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Posts Tagged ‘health’

Just Smile

Sometimes a smile is all you need.20141122-151126.jpg

When we are happy we can’t help but smile. Big grins ear to ear. Or maybe a coy smile, the kind we make when thinking about a loved one, the kind we make when we think nobody is watching.

There is more to the smile than the the actual smile too. There are the eyes. They light up when you have a genuine smile. There is a twinkle, a glow. Even if you are one of those people who doesn’t have a big grin to show off, you still have eyes that portray the smile your lips don’t.

When we feel down and blue we don’t often smile, but a smile from somebody else can make our day. It doesn’t have to be from anyone in particular, a total stranger will do, but somehow that smile touches us and makes us feel we aren’t alone.

When I look back at times in my life when I have struggled it was the kindness of strangers that helped me through. Their smile and helping hand did more for me than and doctor or pill or therapist could. They did more for me because I could see the genuine desire they had to help. They weren’t helping because they would earn a dollar by doing so. They weren’t helping because they got a kick-back form some pharmaceutical company. They helped because it made them feel good, and that showed in their smile.

20141122-151110.jpgThe same holds true for our partners, whether they be strictly play partners or forever loves. There is a joy that shows thru when they are truly enjoying what they are doing. We can’t help but notice even if they don’t. Even the sadist has a smile. A wicked evil one that may leave you scared of what could be coming next, but still you can see the genuine pleasure they are experiencing in the moment.

For those times when you are alone, when there is no stranger or partner or friend to give you the smile you need, just smile yourself. I’m not sure if this is a “fake it ’till you make it” kind of thing, or if it’s the smile that makes you happy versus being happy that makes you smile, but either way it will work. Come on, try it. ūüôā

 

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You should always trust your body and it’s limitations. Easily said when you are living a vanilla life, but not so when you enter the world of kink and BDSM. It isn’t that easy because we are may be pushing a limit, some boundary that we want to move beyond or that our Dom wants to help us move beyond. We will engage in activities that cause pain or draw blood, or that generally scare the shit out of us and excite us to no end at the same time.¬†We test ourselves, our Dom’s test us, we test them…. (Yes, we test you. It’s true. Any sub who says they do not or have not tested their Dom is lying.)

The thing is though, that our bodies can only go so far and we need to recognize that before we do great harm. When our endorphins are rushing through us and we start heading¬†off into subspace we can miss or neglect the signs of going to far. This is when you need to trust your Dom to notice the signs for you. When you can’t trust your body, trust your Dom. If you can not trust your Dom then you need to find another.

When your Dom is whipping you and you start to fly you aren’t paying attention to your body heating up or the shakes that start or the fact that you are unable to respond in any comprehensible manner to the pain he is inflicting on your body. Even if we like it, it’s still pain and pain can mean damage. You aren’t paying attention to the signs your body is giving you, but he is. He is checking in with¬†you throughout the scene and¬†notices every little movement and nuance of your body. He knows how it reacts and when it reaches it’s limits.

This means that even though you didn’t use your safe word or get to the point of play that you thought you would, he is going to stop the scene. He should stop the scene. If you are in a public play space or play party and he doesn’t stop¬†the scene a DM will. Keep in mind that just because someone has to step in to stop a scene does not mean that you have a bad Dom. It could be that while you are flying into subspace he is flying into Domspace and not fully aware of the situation. When he is checking in with you during your scene you should be checking on him as well. This way you will notice if he is starting to fly or if he is becoming agitated¬†and you can stop the scene at that time.

I know I said trust your body and if you can’t trust your body trust your Dom, but the reality is we¬†are all human and there may occasionally be times when¬†things happen that we don’t expect or are out of our control. This absolutely must not be the norm. If this becomes the norm you need to find another Dom.

When you aren’t able to trust your body, here are some things your Dom is looking at:

  1. Your breathing – Is your breathing becoming shallow or erratic? Are you having a hard time catching your breath? Maybe you have asthma and an attack is coming.
  2. Your ability to communicate – If you needed to use your safe word, could you? If you can’t communicate verbally are you able to communicate another way?
  3. The sounds you make – Have you stopped making sounds you normally would make? Are you being more vocal than usual?
  4. Your body shaking or lack of movement – How does your body normally react to what he is doing? How is it reacting now?
  5. Your eyes – Are you able to focus on him or something in the room?
  6. Your sense of touch – Do you feel the whip as it makes contact? Are you numb? Is your skin overly sensitive?

These are just a handful of signs your Dom may be looking at. I am by no means an expert on the matter. There can be many more and different signs depending on the dynamics of the people involved and the kind of scene they are having.

 

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Let’s all join in and show our boobs this Wednesday, September 25th. As anyone who reads my blog or twitter know, I’m a big fan of my boobs. A scare and surgery last November did little to hinder that love of my boobs, but it did change the way I look at them and take care of them. Now, do I wear a bra, a t-shirt, a pair of hands……

Lisa Fulham - Author

 

Today some of you may have seen that I posted the following picture on twitter.

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I had posted a picture of my new bra and then said that my tattybojangles looked rather good in said bra. This prompted a small army of people demanding proof and after some huge self doubts I did it. The response I got was amazing and I‚Äôm glad that I digged deep to find the courage to do it. I LOVE my boobs; they‚Äôre just like me‚ÄĒbig, in your face and like to jump around. In fact I love boobs in general and will always point out a damn good pair to my husband and congratulate other women on their impressive pair. Boobs should be celebrated no matter their size, but more than that, boobs should be protected.

 

Now this post is turning a little serious and I do hope that you…

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My grandmother is in the hospital. I have been told it isn’t serious but come on now, at ninety years old just about anything can become serious. She apparently mixed up her medications and had some kind of reaction. She is ninety and lives alone. Your first thought is probably how lucky she is still able to live on her own at that age. That was my thought on her birthday two months ago. Today I think about why it is not good she lives alone. This medication mishap is tops right now.

She was deemed legally blind this last year. She lives on the side of a friggen mountain, with somewhere in the neighbourhood of one hundred stairs between her door and the road. She has no help from home care or a meals on wheels type of thing. Why doesn’t she? Because she is old and stubborn and set in her ways.

My aunts and uncle, even my dad, have all asked her over the years to sell the house and go live with one of them. No, she can’t do that. I understand where she’s coming from. She has lived in that house for over sixty years. Three of her five children were born in that house, not just while they lived there, but actually in the house. My grandfather, the one and only love of her life, died in that house. After more than sixty years she knows every inch of that house and can get around it easily, sight or no sight.

Honestly, her home is the best place for her but she should allow her family to bring in help. Her family, my family, should just do it anyway. Why haven’t they yet? Because she has fought them on it, she’s a stubborn old lady remember, and they let her win. Where has this letting her win got her? In the hospital.

It can be difficult to deal with aging parents. We love them and want to take care of them but we don’t want to take away the things in life that give them joy, that allow them their own independence. No matter what we want for them, what we feel is right, forcing someone to so something they don’t want to do can often do more harm than good.

I don’t know. I worry about her. I do hope she comes out of this troublesome episode quickly, and I hope my family does something to help her, to allow her to continue to live on her own rather than force her to do what she doesn’t want.

I worry about my own aging parents too. Stubbornness appears to run rampant in both families. I wish I wasn’t so far away from all of them.

The rain outside, which I usually find very soothing, just seems to amplify my brooding mood this morning. I must go wake up my child and get a dose of laughter and smiles in before we have to head out and start our day.

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Now It's Gone

It’s been several months now since I found that lump in my breast. This week I had it removed. And now it’s gone.

Initially finding the lump really freaked me out. I’m not gonna lie. My breasts are a big (no pun intended) part of me. They came in early and they came in large. As superficial as it may sound, they are part of my identity. To have something wrong with them, to think that I may end up not having them, was a¬†hard prospect¬†to consider. Luckily that didn’t happen.

The tumor removed from my breast was 3.3 x 3 x 1.8 cm. A fair size. No wonder I could so easily feel it. No wonder it was causing such discomfort. Granted, it was in a nice big cushy space but even the princess felt that pea underneath all those mattresses. It wasn’t like one day I felt my breast and it was there. I was getting gradually more uncomfortable sleeping on my right side and stomach as I was used to.¬†At first I didn’t feel anything internal, but then one day I did. I kept checking it for the next month before going to see my doctor.

You may be thinking a month is a long time to wait before seeking medical attention but it isn’t for this particular¬†issue. Women have a regular, or mostly regular, monthly cycle and during this cycle the body goes through natural changes. Right before the menstrual cycle breasts may appear tender, swollen, and more lumpy than usual. It is important to do regular self examinations. Knowing your body and how it changes during your cycle will help you determine if what you are feeling is really a lump that shouldn’t be there or a natural change.

Aside from the fact that my tumour was causing much discomfort, I would have had it removed anyway because it was something that shouldn’t have been there. It’s not like¬†replacing a heart valve or¬†getting a pin put in your hip. This was something that was growing inside of me that shouldn’t have. It was internal. It wasn’t welcome. During the surgery to remove the tumor, it was found to have a cyst attached. Funny thing that. A¬†cyst having its own cyst. A¬†tumor having a tumor. The tumor was a collection of cells but the cyst was fluid filled. What would have happened if I left it and the cyst burst? I was lucky to not have to find out.

I know I come off as strong and independent and having my shit together. Truth is I am really anything but. I second guess myself all the time. My home is often a sea of piles of papers, bags of books and other stuff that I never put away. I’m not a¬†hoarder by any stretch, I’m just not organized at home like I am at work. I am a procrastinator. I worry. I worry¬†about raising my son alone. I worry about what will happen if I am not around for him growing up.

This worrying thing is new. I know I shouldn’t worry. I know it doesn’t solve anything. If anything it just makes situations worse. No matter how we live our lives, no matter how together we seem, we all worry about various things. It’s ok to worry a bit, ok to let our fears get the best of us, but only for a minute. Then we have to let it go and carry on.

My tumor is gone. I may get another, possibly, sometime down the road. Next time I may not be so lucky but I can’t dwell on that, worry about it happening. I just need to continue living my life. I need to carry on.

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Parenthood (the show) and Me

I was watching television this afternoon and had a moment of realization. Seem to be having a few of those recently.

Parenthood¬†was on. I watched two episodes. In the first, Kristina Braverman¬†went for a breast examination and they found she had a lump. It turned out to be breast cancer. She was all by herself for the examination and the doctor’s appointment, but then she went home to her husband and family. In the second they dealt with seeing the surgeon and deciding how to proceed, together. He was, and I am sure will continue to be, with her all the way.

What I realized was that through all of my tests and doctors appointments, through all my worrisome days so far¬†not knowing what was going to happen, I was all alone. I don’t have a husband, or boyfriend of any consequence, or any family in this town aside from my two-year old son. I don’t have someone to go home to who’s going to hold me, comfort me, care for me and tell me everything is going to be ok. Nobody to watch my son¬†while I¬†go have a meltdown or¬† just an hour to myself.

Sure, I have friends, but they have their own lives and as much as they say they are there for me it isn’t the same. One friend watched my son for a couple hours¬†while I went for a massage, and my cousin in Kitchener took him for a weekend to give me a break. I am thankful for their help, but I always have to ask for it. One day it would be nice to have someone just show up and say they are taking the boy for the day so I can go have some me time. I can dream.

My Mother was here, but she left. She lives in Alberta and comes spend a couple weeks¬†at the cottage every few months. She took my son the week I went for my first doctor’s appointment, but that was only because the babysitter was on vacation and she was already taking him for the week. I didn’t see her other than that. Even when I went to see the specialist, she stayed at the cottage because a neighbour didn’t want to be alone for the night. Forget that her daughter is dealing with something and having to take care of a two-year old all alone during it. Forget that she chose to leave to go back to Alberta knowing that I wanted her to stay. Forget that she said¬†she hates that¬†she is never around¬†when things are¬†going on, trying to make me feel bad for her. Yeah, I’m a tad bitter about that one.

I go back to see the surgeon in two weeks for an after biopsy check-up and to book a date for surgery. When I do have the surgery I won’t be able to lift or change the boy. I won’t be able to give him a bath or be his Mommy jungle gym. I am not sure how long this will be for. Not sure what I am going to do with my son then. At least I have a bit of time to figure it out.

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Invaded

sore and bruised
a scar was left
but so much more was taken

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