Your Diet Is Driving Me Nuts

Nut allergies have risen dramatically over the past two decades. I'm writing about it because food blogger and writer Michael Ruhlman was commenting on the current germ phobia and musing how the stampede of food allergies started.

"My guess is that they began around the time their parents began to consume vast quantities of industrial, processed foods. Sterile food. Food that can sit on a shelf for a lifetime."

I think he's right. In no other era did people tote around hand disinfectant, wipe table tops with Clorox wipes or toss out the wooden cutting board. Anyone who understands antibiotic resistance will know we may be killing out a lot of the microbes that keep us healthy and help us digest our food.

Now, in addition to the germ phobia, we're also seeing a sharp uprise in food allergies. Once, during a flight, the attendant apologized for not being able to hand out the requisite nuts. It seems just the scent or powders from peanuts would have thrown one person into a serious anphylactic shock. I really didn't mind, as long as it there wasn't something with a Snap-E Tom allergy that would've banned my Bloody Mary as well.

But I wonder if those with this allergy weren't introduced to peanut butter when they were young. Was this generation raised in an era when parents found it easier to go through McDonald's for a high-fat, high salt "Happy Meal," than make a PBJ?

Anyway, I guess the way we did things when my generation grew up was to eat what was made for us. Perhaps because of this, our immune systems were built up so that we tolerated much of what we could eat. We never heard of wheat allergies, or even lactose intolerance (and lest you think I'm discounting these things, I'm not. These things are all real. But this doesn't explain my shrimp allergy. I used to down shrimp by the bag when I was small).

But if anything this surge in allergies are a call to everyone to start cooking again. Eat a broad diet, learn to cook from scratch on the fly, don't shop in the middle aisles, grow your own fruit and veg if you can, and when in doubt, eat an orange or an apple.

Letter To Military Spouses From Our First Lady, Michelle Obama

From Military One Source
On Tuesday, as people from all walks of life come together in common purpose to begin the work of renewing America's promise, my daughters and I will stand beside my husband as he takes the oath of office as the 44th president of the United States.

People have asked me how I'll feel at that moment. As a wife, I'll be thinking about how proud I am of my husband and how I believe so deeply that he will be an extraordinary president. As a mother, I'll be bursting with pride at the thought of my girls now being able to envision endless choices for themselves and the joy it will be to watch them grow up in the White House. And as a daughter, I'll be profoundly grateful to my parents, knowing that I am here only because of their lifetime of faith and hard work.

They're my proof that the American promise endures. It's that promise we all share that our children might grow up with unlimited possibility, that our families might know the dreams of opportunity and prosperity, that people in every nation might look at the proud banner of this country and know the boundless meaning of hope.

As I take on my newest role First Lady, I'll be thinking about what that promise means to all those whom I've had the humbling privilege to meet these past two years on the campaign trail: Americans across the country who opened their doors and hearts to share their stories with me stories I carry to this day.

I particularly cherished my visits with military families all across the country. I met so many strong and inspiring military spouses eager to share their stories, their dreams for the future and the unique challenges they face because of their families' selfless service to our country.

And if there's one thing I learned, it's that when our servicemen and women go to war, their families go with them. I saw how they take care of each other, heard how they fill in whenever the system fails and discovered that the trials they faced always were matched by the hope they shared that better days are still ahead.

The simple 35-word oath my husband will take and the peaceful transfer of power it completes makes it easy to forget that the great fortune of our citizenship isn't free at all. It's a responsibility inherited only because generations of Americans have fought and bled and died for it.

So as I watch Barack take that oath, I'll be thinking especially about those members of our American family who stand guard across the world and the loved ones who await their safe return. Because even as we mark this moment in American history, there still will be empty seats at the dinner table; there still will be spouses struggling to juggle roles and responsibilities; there still will be children who mark the passing of a birthday without Mommy and toddlers who know their father only by a grainy video stream from a far-flung corner of the globe.

My husband and I are deeply grateful for the sacrifices that these families make to protect all American families. And we join them, today and every day, in praying for their loved ones and their safety. They don't ask a lot in return, just a Washington that understands the challenges they face as part of their extraordinary commitment to our country.

My husband understands that commitment, and he will ensure America lives up to its end. As military families join us on Tuesday, in person and in spirit, I want each and every one of them to know that for as long as I have the tremendous honor of being your First Lady, your voices will be heard, you will have an advocate in the White House, and the American promise you preserve always will extend to you, too.

All of us can learn a fundamental lesson from our military families: You don't need to wear a uniform to serve your country. We all have something to contribute to the life of this nation.

Monday is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. And to honor the legacy of a man who believed that everybody could be great because anybody can serve, my family and I will spend the day performing activities in service to others. And we'll ask all Americans to join us in making an ongoing commitment to serve their community and their country, because in this new season of hope, that's the only way we'll begin renewing America's promise for all who reach for it and all who defend it as one nation and one people.

On Tuesday night, my husband and I will tuck in our daughters like we always do. Their bedrooms will be different, their home unfamiliar. But they will drift off to sleep protected by that same sacrifice that has kept all of our families safe and safeguarded our freedom for generations the sacrifice of our men and women in uniform and their families.

For that, we could not be more grateful or more proud.

From Surgeon's Wife To Army Surgeon's Wife

Note: This was originally posted on my day-to-day blog Get Lost With Easy-Writer and had comments then.

Everyone has a story.
You never know where you'll end up.
When I was in my twenties, The Hubs was a resident in a surgical program. We had been invited to dine with the staff surgeons and their wives. I found the wives interesting, worldly, capable, independent, and opinionated. I was overwhelmed: not only did they cook the sumptuous meals and have beautiful homes, they were professionals with interests all their own. These wives had no patience for pansy-ass women. They knew --as I would find out, the TV stereotype of a surgeon's wife was a joke. They ran their professional and home lives alone --one of the conditions of being married to a someone who worked regular 14-16 hour days saving lives. No doubt there were, as there are now, husbands of female surgeons who accepted the same.

Flash forward twenty-some odd years later. Middle age and all the illusions are gone. Life hasn't been a day of shopping at Needless Markup. In fact, most of my shopping was done at Target. Instead, it's midnight and I'm on a balcony because it's leaking into the kitchen below. It's raining, there's a gale force wind. I'm bungy cording an enormous blue tarp to the balcony in an attempt to seal it off to deflect water. As I'm being battered by the elements, the tarp acts as a sail. I get one corner secured, and then another before the wind comes tearing through ripping it out of my hands. And so I start again. One, two, three, only to have it all happen again. Finally, after an hour, I've got an elaborate shelter for the balcony constructed --we're safe for now. This entire time, I was alone. The Hubs was in the OR operating on an accident victim.

My husband wasn't in the military yet --first he worked for a large medical group. Later, he started a solo practice. He worked his ass off. I got used to days on end by myself and him being called in the middle of the night. There wasn't a dinner nor a day, where he wasn't having a conversation with me --and another on the phone with a nurse, doctor, hospital, pharmacy or patient. I found our houses, submitted the bids, started escrow and completed the sale. When it came time to move --I packed and gave him the address. And I even ran his practice. I went from a wisp of a 24 year old to becoming a mother, housewife, small business administrator, negotiator with school districts, money investor, household accountant, a contracting foreman, a cook and always --a writer. I had become a tough old bird.

Decades passed, and the fights with healthcare administrators, and witnessing the lack of cohesiveness of the medical community were like a daily fist fight. It was time to look for other opportunities. We looked across the country, but one very insistent young man kept us in his loop. It was a healthcare recruiter from the US Army. Their new push was to find doctors with at least 20 years of experience.

Believe me, nothing in The Hubs' background lead to this. He was, after all, the son of rabidly liberal academics, raised in the 60's, a certified conscientious objector during the Vietnam war. But... life changes, rather, it kicks the shit out of you and either you change, or accept mediocrity.

And so we were left with a question --why not? Why not provide the best clinical and surgical care for the less than 1% in this nation who serve? Why not share his skills --honed after 23 years as a surgeon in the busiest and pickiest metropolitan area in the nation? Why not heal those in less privileged countries? Why not just do something totally "out there?"

So here we are. Smack in our middle age. On Planet Military. With 1 cat, a dog, one ambitious teen, and another who is a self-identified "skater" (this means, graduated from high school and currently unemployed). Update two years later: he has a job, the board has been replaced by a car.

Though we are living on different coasts --life is as good as we make it. There's no expectation he might come in and save the day. But before it was harder --I kept thinking he might be around, but because of his staggering hours, often he wasn't. The kids would wait for him and many times, he didn't show up until they had gone to bed.

I read forum postings from younger wives who grapple with their husband's deployment. I sympathize with them, as I've felt their loneliness during our own journey, and expect I'll continue to do so. But never have I felt more support or a sense of community in all my years as a surgeon's wife.

I'm here to observe, learn and offer support where it's needed. Truth is, we were never going to retire anyway. Whether it was as a civilian working in Eastern Los Angeles County for peanuts, or in the military whether stateside or deployed --the mission has always been the same: to help and be of use.

Update: the physicians who do the best are the ones whose mission to help and to be of use remains solid all the way from medical school and beyond.

Shift & Focus, Back and Forth

Over the past few months, I've found many military wives blogs written anonymously. Some write anonymously because they divulge personal details, others want to get all out political. I understand why they do this.

But anonymity isn't an option for me. I've been blogging on my first blog, Easy-Writer for a few years now --longer than we've been in the military. I've forged my way as an observer, listener, sorter and writer for almost 30 years. I'm 48, I'm starting to wear a tiara, thanks to Empress Bee. So you see, anonymity would be sheer folly! I'll continue what I've always done --unearthing stories on books, fashion, travel, and life. There'll be a sprinkling of current events and I'll do my best to continue to do it not crossing any boundaries. After all, first and foremost, I'm a writer.

Overheard from the mouths of others whilst running around the past few days (or things that stood out.)

About the impending surge in Afghanistan:
"They're sending all these young men in and they're just going to be killed. I mean, they can't win. It's a tribal area."
About Pakistan:
"The real problem behind Afghanistan is the sheer corruption of Pakistan."
About Gaza:
"Enough is enough. They have been firing rockets at our terrritory for far too long." --by one Israeli diplomat
and
"Well, if Arizona were sending bombs over to California on a regular basis, you wouldn't put up with that, would you?'
On Israel:
"Even though I don't agree with everything Israel has done historically, you can't blame them for defending their country."
About Palestine:
"They just want economic opportunity."
About Israel:
"There's a lack of younger leadership in Israel and Palestine, a lack of vision on how to bring the two sides together so that they can coexist with equal opportunities."
About Hamas:
"Hamas is against the existence of Israel. However, Hamas is not representative of all Palestinians."
and
"Free Gaza!"
About Palestinians:
"Those that can get out are trying. But there are blocks on all sides."
And...from me....
About the price of gasoline:
"Shit, it just went up again." -what I said when I went to fill up.
After talking to my CPA:
"Okay, I paid my quarterlies. I might have enough to go to WalMart and buy some dog food."

As I get older, I realize there are no easy answers. There's a multitude of reasons why a given situation exists. Listening to all sides has been interesting, reading up on the history of the region is engaging. But as for answers? For every answer there's a new question to research and try to gain a deeper understanding.