Chiroscope

Quit your swining...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 13:22:00 +0000

Hi! How are you? Are you going to get the H1N1 shot?

Lately, this is what passes for conversation. Never before have I used the words "shiraz" and "squalene" in the same sentence, but you asked what my weekend plans were...

Ah, vaccines. They kill us/save us, depending on who you ask. They are either the greatest example of medical advancement or proof of government conspiracy - pork barrel politics, if you will. I've heard the Illuminati are involved, but one can't be sure.

I have many conflicting emotions over this issue. I feel at once:

concerned. I don't go looking for viruses just like I don't go looking for trouble. I avoid them like the plague! Sometimes, however, they find me, virus and trouble both. I'm concerned enough to keep hand sanitizer at the clinic front desk. I'm concerned enough that I wash my hands even more than normal, and then sometimes spray alcohol (rubbing, not schnapps) on them for good measure. I'm concerned enough that I've bookmarked this site, which tracks the number of deaths associated with H1N1 in Canada.

skeptical. Did you click the link above? Uh...101? Out of 33,834,093 people? I am so sorry for each one of the victims and their families, but I wonder if we are exposed to more FEAR than virus?

apathy. All the information and misinformation becomes jumbled in my brain, and then I remember that I do not currently have a flu, swine or not, and that to date, I don't think I've ever had a serious flu, of any combination of letters and numbers. I simply don't feel like I'm going to DIE from the FLU tomorrow, and so apathy sets in, and I admit I'm inclined to wait a bit, and see what happens.

suspicion. Something's not kosher. Squalene in the vaccine... a few weeks of testing... deadly pandemic vs. mild flu variant... everyone either wants my money or my arm or my defiance.

fear. I'm suddenly in the position of having to make a decision for another person. At 9 months old Oliver hasn't yet decided what he thinks of flus and vaccines and all things porcine. But he's awfully little, and I dislike the prospects of him facing such an intense virus and such an intense vaccine.

phlegm. This isn't really an emotion per se, but Oliver and I have runny noses, and I'm loath to ask our bodies to fight an injected version of a virus (among other things) while we are currently fighting a virus. Give a body a break.

ennui. Swine flu? H1N1 still? Isn't this soooo last spring? Can we get over this? Let's talk about something more current. Like the balloon boy.

concern again. Sure, it's just a virus. But... it seems to be a fast virus. And an unpredictable virus. And a nasty virus. Fast, unpredictable and nasty, the kind a nice girl like me was told to stay away from.

So here we are. I'm still unsure of how my family will proceed, but we're formulating some plans. There are strong arguments on both sides of this issue, and I think in the long run we benefit by dispensing information and letting the individual decide what is best for themselves. Those who chose to vaccinate feel safe knowing that they are protected while contributing to 'herd immunity' (though the reference to 'herds' is a little touchy (incidentally, a herd of pigs is called a drove. Who knew?)). Those who decline the shot feel better about avoiding the less savoury vaccine ingredients (thimersol, squalene... yum!). We are all playing the numbers game, irrespective of which side we are on. And people aren't exactly dying in droves (catch that?).

Catch that?? The odds favour us, irrespective of what we do. Some people will have vaccine side effects. The vast majority will not. Some people will become seriously ill with H1N1. The vast majority will not.

The point is, we're going to be ok. Breathe. We. Are. Going. To. Be. OK. So make your decision using research and consideration and instinct, get on with your life, and quit swining about it!

Tick Talk

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 02:54:00 +0000

They say Time Heals All Wounds.

This prognosis makes me uneasy, both as a wordie (for lack of a better word) and a doctor, because a) I dislike cliches and 2) it's just a way of beating around the bush, no? Isn't this what we say when we don't know when a problem will go away, or even if? Romance gone awry, lingering injuries, problems big and small that we are powerless to mend. Just when you think you are out of options - don't despair! There is one thing you haven't tried - Time! And the good news? It has a 100% effectiveness rate!

Furthermore, there is absolutely nothing in the entire universe that I despise more than hyperbole. All wounds? Each and every one? I assume this extends beyond basic flesh wounds and lacerations, but to what end? Wounds in which salt has been rubbed? The walking wounded? A wounded heart? Does it matter if the heart was broken via love lost or arrhythmia? Dropsy? (Does anyone even get dropsy anymore?)

I say with confidence and authority that time most certainly does not heal all wounds. Like trepanation, reparative therapy and retail therapy, Time as a treatment modality is not guaranteed effective (though I once used retail therapy in the form of these shoes to cure a particularly stubborn cough*).And I wonder - are we ever fully healed from the things that affect us? My own back injuries have been treated and no longer impede me the way they once did, but I still bear the scar and my nerve will never be the same. Am I healed? Does being healed mean that all evidence is cleared? Or just that the symptoms are gone? We are remarkably markable, us humans. Our bodies remember. And if therapy and treatment and ice cream and love can't heal us, what makes us think that something so amorphous (and debatable!) as Time, will?

One of the most common things I hear in my office is "I thought it would go away". Or else the problem seemed to 'go away', but then came back, usually with a vengeance. This is the problem with waiting instead of treating; you risk making an acute and often simple problem into a chronic and complicated one. Scar tissue builds up, compensating muscles take over. Inflammation sets in, pain cycles develop. Sure, healing takes Time, but it also takes effort. And in my experience, waiting and seeing is rarely the best choice of (in)action. All chronic problems started out acute, and only worsened with Time. So much for its healing powers...

So what is it about Time that we have such faith in, anyway? And if it truly is such a miraculous healer, wouldn't someone besides Jim Croce have bottled it up and marketed the hell out of it?

(get it? Time in a bottle? I've been working on an ending for weeks... and all I can come up with is a 70s song reference. But the point stands - when injured, don't wait! Get treated!)

* results not typical

Gratuitous Baby Update

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 02:17:00 +0000

I'm working on posts relevant to this blog. I haven't forgotten why I started writing. Stay tuned for things chiropracticish... soon!

In the meantime... Oliver!

Does this Manifesto make my butt look big?

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 14:05:00 +0000

I went shopping for yoga pants the other day, at a certain overpriced and unnamed yoga pants emporium. And printed on their shopping bag, was the company Manifesto. While I appreciate their use of Lycra and respect their dedication to athletics, I am perplexed by their Manifesto. For starters, why does a clothing store need a Manifesto? And why does making fabulous pants that mold my rear in ways that yoga promised to but has not, make one an expert on life in general? Please understand, I need these pants, I LOVE these pants, among my wardrobe, these yoga pants shoulder stand alone. They are suitable for work and for work-out, and worth every one of the $10,000 pennies they cost. I'm sure the yoginis on the mountain tops will agree that they've, like, totally changed the sport of yoga, for sure.

But a Manifesto... really?

Quit playing philosopher. Nietzsche you ain't. Witness the following gems of wisdom I received, when all I wanted were well-fitting pants...:

"Breathe deeply and appreciate the moment. Living in the moment could be the meaning of life." Could be? A bit under-convincing, no? Hell, the pursuit of the perfect pair of comfortable but cute sandals could be the meaning of life. A manifesto should be definitive! I need answers!

"stress is related to 99% of all illness" While I don't doubt that stress negatively impacts the immune system and makes us vulnerable to illness, this is so obviously contrived. Besides, people can come up with statistics to prove anything. 14% of people know that.

"the pursuit of happiness is the source of all unhappiness" Seeking joy is the source of misery? How depressing.

"Take various vitamins. You never know what small mineral can eliminate the bottleneck to everlasting health" Now really. Various vitamins? This is not a prescription for health. For starters, the prevailing concept of 'vitamins are good, so more vitamins must be better' is false. In fact, some vitamins negatively interact with certain conditions or medications. Also, vitamins in synthetic form are not the same as their natural counterparts. In vivo (fancy for 'in the living') vitamins interact with each other and cofactors and other stuff that I should have paid more attention to in biochemistry, whereas in pill form... well, it is processed by definition, hence, inferior. I believe in using vitamins as medicine - when needed and as needed. This careless advice is foolish, and if your health is so 'bottlenecked', then perhaps you need more than 'one small mineral' to lead you to 'everlasting health'. Bollocks.

"Don’t trust that an old age pension will be sufficient" - you are an accountant too? What can't you do?

"Children are the orgasm of life. Just like you did not know what an orgasm was before you had one, nature does not let you know how great children are until you have them". What? *blush*. I... I just wanted yoga pants?! Orgasm? I... uh... do you have these pants in a size orgasm i mean size 6? Does the person who wrote this have kids? Because I vow to never, EVER, refer to my child that way. I just... oh my.

"Communication is COMPLICATED. We are all raised in a different family with slightly different definitions of every word. An agreement is an agreement only if each party knows the conditions for satisfaction and a time is set for satisfaction to occur." Well. My brain officially hurts. I don't think we each have different definitions for every word, that certainly would make communication as COMPLICATED as they find it, since words would cease to have meaning, and THAT'S WHAT DICTIONARIES ARE FOR YOU CAN'T JUST DEFINE WORDS HOWEVER YOU WANT, EVEN IF YOU'VE STRETCHED THE DEFINITION OF YOGA PANTS TO MEAN SEMI-FORMAL WEAR. Hence, I disagree with your manifesto and don't anticipate being satisfied at any time in the future.

An eco-friendly shopping bag is a powerful thing - it carries purchases and the meaning of life and lets me save the earth by shopping. But few, if any, of history's great manifestos were printed on a shopping bag, and this one... I'm not buying.

Things that are a pain in the neck

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 21:46:00 +0000

1. The pain between your shoulder blades. You may think you have been stabbed in the back, but unless your name is Caesar, that sharp pain is probably due to a 'pinched' nerve in your neck (and not your best friend!). It is called cervicogenic dorsalgia, fancy for 'back pain originating in the neck', and it is very common. Et tu, Brute?

2. Tailgaters. Especially when you have to keep checking your blind spot, because some jerk is attempting to drive into your trunk.

3. The pain in my neck. Really, it hurts! Fortunately I was able to get an adjustment of my own today. Someone needs to treat the chiropractor!

4. Your flat pillow. Your really fluffy pillow. Your 4 pillows stacked one on top of the other. Find a pillow, one pillow, that gives you sweet dreams and neck support. I like a cervical pillow with memory foam.

5. Necking. Actually, I have yet to see a patient injure their neck while necking. So consider making out a chiropractically safe activity!

6. Headaches. Neck tension and misaligned vertebra in the cervical spine are a major cause of headaches.

7. The albatross around your neck.

8. Rubbernecking. It causes 16% of distraction-related traffic accidents, and whiplash is another major cause of neck pain.

9. Younger sisters. (Hi Pam!)

10. Trying to think of a 10th witty and relevant item to complete this list. Yeesh...

Lunch is on me...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 14:46:00 +0000

Pregnancy is said to be a beautiful and wondrous time in a woman's life. And it is. But in retrospect, it is also a bloated and hormotional time in a woman's life, and let's face it... a totally surreal and bizarre time in said woman's life. You not only double in size, but in number of people.

As my pregnancy crept ever so slowly to an end, I thought a lot about whether I would miss the experience of nourishing this other, of being able to provide everything it (he) needed to survive. Then I started having contractions, and 3 short weeks later Oliver was born. We got off to a great start breast-feeding, and while nursing him before dawn it dawned on me - aside from baby Gap, I was still the sole provider of everything he needed. Just the method of delivery changed.

I love nursing. I love that my son's chubby thighs are from me (my milk and my genes!), I am privileged to spend every few hours (a little less privileged in the middle of the night) cuddled up, bonding, nourishing... it is lovely. I didn't know I'd enjoy it this much - it surprises me still. It is sort of like discovering that what was previously only decorative is suddenly functional - like your favourite bracelet is also a GPS unit. Breasts - pretty and useful! Who knew?

I realize how fortunate we are, Oliver and I, to have navigated nursing with only a few minor injuries*. This 'natural' process is not so natural or easy for some, and I urge those mamas who have trouble nursing but want to forge ahead to seek out a lactation consultant. Irrespective of how you feed your baby, from the bottle or the breast, poor posture at mealtime will cause discomfort in the upper back; do this every two hours and it can become agonizing. Add in a lack of sleep and bending over a change table... and you get the picture. I'll leave the technicalities of nursing to Janice, my favourite doula, prenatal educator and breast-feeding instructor, but allow me to draw on my dual qualifications as a nursing mother and a chiropractor to offer a little help and some relief for nursing pain and discomfort unrelated to the chestal region.

Breast-feeding moms, nature and the laws of engorgement are on your side, since they dictate that you hold the baby on alternating sides with each feed. Bottle feeding moms (and dads!), on the other hand will usually pick a preferred side, leading to asymmetry and more pain. Another downside to single-sided feedings is that the baby may develop neck muscles asymmetrically from turning their head in one direction. Consider switching sides, even if holding the bottle in the other hand feels odd at first.

The most useful prop is a nursing pillow - especially in the early weeks when the baby is tiny. It helps bring the baby closer to the breast, to prevent hunching over. There are a variety of different types, so find the one that works for you. Mine was polka-dotted, that worked best for me. Really any pillow will do, you don't need a cleverly-named one (really - breast friends?) to support things (the baby, arms, low back). Stack pillows under and around yourself and the baby until you are comfortable. It's not rocket science.

Put a pillow or other support in the small of the low back - maintaining this curve is key. When you collapse through the low back, your shoulders are thrust forward and the neck must compensate to stay upright. Keep the lumbar curve supported, and your upper back and neck will fall into a better position.

Get a massage! Have someone watch the baby, or ask if you can bring the baby along (they sleep so much in those early days, and many therapists will be happy to accommodate you, especially during slower periods in the middle of the day). At the very least, have your partner attempt a shoulder rub. If anyone deserves a massage, it is a new mom. 'nuff said.

Get an adjustment! Really... just do it. Your posture has experienced so many changes throughout pregnancy, hormonal changes have relaxed and tensed your ligaments, you now carry around an ever growing load of baby... the stress on your spine is significant. A chiropractor can restore mobility, reduce pain, get things back to normal, whatever that is! The relief from that first adjustment after baby arrives is enormous. Moms... get your back adjusted. Aaah.

Relax the shoulders. There is a tendency to raise the shoulders when we don't need to! This shoulder hiking happens when feeding the baby, holding her, rocking her... but your shoulders are not needed! Relax them. You can hold the baby just as well with them down, away from your ears.

Get comfortable at the start of a feeding, so that 10 (or 45!) minutes later you aren't going numb or in pain from holding the baby in an awkward position. In a cradle hold, soften the shoulders and rest your elbow on a pillow, not against a hard arm rest. A food stool is great too, for taking pressure off the legs and low back. In a side lying breastfeeding position, put a pillow under the neck and another between the knees. If Mama's not comfortable, NO ONE is.

Experiment with different feeding positions. Bottle feeders, switch sides, or have someone else take over a feeding or two to give yourself a break. Breast feeders, there are many positions to try, and even though you may have a favourite, mixing it up may prevent muscle overuse. And be creative - you don't need to use the positions listed on a website or breastfeeding pamphlet. Whatever gets the baby to the breast comfortably is good. Lying across your chest, sitting on your lap... really, whatever works, works. Oliver will quite literally latch in any position possible. I once fed him suspended from the ceiling by a series of bungee cords.

Hopefully meal time is an enjoyable one, for all parties involved. Luckily, my young son has a sophisticated palate and really enjoys eating; indeed I am consumed with joy.

*don't let the baby latch onto your chin. It may seem funny at the time, but you will regret it.

I love food...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Thu, 14 May 2009 20:06:00 +0000

When I met Devon Strachan, a holistic nutritionist who ALSO loves food... well, it was like a match made in heaven... or a kitchen... or a restaurant. The point is, I love food, she loves food, ergo, I love Devon. She and I will sit down and start to chat about food, real food versus the fake food we tend to eat, how to cook food, how to use food to be more healthy... food, glorious food, and whad'ya know, it is 2 hours later, and boy am I hungry.

So I did the only thing I could - I made her a part of the team at RHCC.

And the best part? Each week, she brings a snack for everyone to try. A healthful snack. An easy-to-make snack. A delicious snack. But most importantly, SHE BRINGS A SNACK.

Today Devon treated the patients of RHCC to the following concoction. If you weren't in the clinic to sample Devon's version, feel free to make it yourself at home!

Olive Tapanade
How to make it:
Blend 1 can black olives, 2 cloves raw garlic, 2 tablespoons caper juice in food processor .
Remove goat cheese from fridge to soften.
Spread thin of layer goat cheese on the bottom of the bowl,all of the olive spread, a second think layer of goat cheese, top generously with capers.
Serve with whole grain bread or crackers!

Why to make it:
Olives: good source of vitamin E
Capers: powerful antioxidant
Goat cheese: promotes good bacteria in digestive tract
Garlic: naturally anti-bacterial

Unfortunately we were too hungry to take the picture before diving in... enjoy!

Post-partum recession

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 17:30:00 +0000

There comes a time when every new mother must accept that maternity pants are not meant to be eternity pants. When the 'maternity' part of the equation no longer applies, lets face it, they are now just pants; elasticized pants, large pants. In truth, they are buffet pants.

We are in a recession, it seems, and I'm ready to do some receding of my own. Time to get in shape, or rather out of my current pear shape and into something more angular. Muscles are the new black.

I admit to indulging over the last few weeks - the last 52 weeks, to be exact. A year ago I peed on a stick and saw a + sign. Since then, the '+' has come to refer to '+ sized' - portions, garments, waistline. It is getting harder and harder to convince myself that my gaining weight is good for the baby.

And so, back to the gym I go. Salads and grilled chicken for me please, maybe a little guidance from Devon the holistic nutritionist. A little hard work for a new pair of jeans. Spring cleaning for this body.

I have many motivations to get in shape. I want to be healthy for my family, for myself. I want to have the energy to keep up with my son, and be strong enough to carry him in my arms, always. And I want to go shopping for a new pair of jeans... ones without an elasticized waist band!

Is that so wrong?

Hi Ho, Hi Ho...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 14:29:00 +0000

Back to work I go!

My maternity leave is over. Though I much enjoyed the time with Oliver, I am excited to return to work, happy to have conversations with people who converse back and who don't drool on me. During these early days I will often have my young son with me at the office, which is convenient for feedings, cuddles and getting an early start on his chiropractic training. It also allows me to use him as a tax deduction - an 11 week old can be considered an 'assistant', no?

There is a lot going on at the clinic now; I am excited to start working with Devon Strachan, a wonderful registered holistic nutritionist who has joined the practice. She is a real foodie who understands that healthy can and should be delicious, and that simple is usually best. Monday night yoga classes are ongoing, and our monthly baby massage classes are a hit. There is nothing cuter than a roomful of nearly naked babies. NOTHING. Of course we also offer acupuncture treatments and qi gong classes and massage therapy, and of course... chiropractic.

Spring is a wonderful time, for renewal, returning to work, getting in shape, getting back into health. Let us know how we can help you fully express yourself this spring.

Welcome to the last resort, enjoy your stay

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 04:02:00 +0000

There is a time and place for everything. That's what they say. Actually, Barclay said 'there is tyme and place for euery thynge', but that's the kind of spelling you'd expect from someone who travels on a ship of fools. The point is I haven't slept in a couple of months... oh, I've already used that excuse, excuse me.

Ah right. The point is, there is a time and a place for everything. Of course, this assumes that I am referring to the observable universe and not the possibility of multiverse, in which case there would be more than one time and place for everything. But dopplegangers and Hilbert Space are beyond the scope of this blog, so I'll leave the parallel dimensions to the less sleep deprived, to people whose conversations don't regularly include such poetics as "did someone make a poopy diaper?" and "who's mommy's little puppy bear? yes you are! yes you are my puppy bear!!".

The point, for real now, is that there is a time and place for everything. Of course, this relates to chiropractic, as do all things chiroscope. See, chiropractic is remarkably effective. It is safe, efficient and great at fixing a lot of ouches and twinges and whatnot. But sometimes, it can't. Medicine and surgery, on the other hand, are also great. Sometimes. You see? A tyme and a place for euery thynge.

Take me, for example (well, I don't see any other volunteers...). Chiropractic helped me manage my lower back issues for many years. It still does. But when the situation became unmanageable, despite my most dogged attempts at all things conservative, surgery was recommended to prevent permanent nerve damage. It was time to visit the last resort. And though I was drug-free and as natural as could be during my pregnancy, when my son's heart rate decelerated enough to make my own heart stop, a cesarean section was recommended. Again, I visited the last resort.

It is not a place you go to easily, the last resort. It is not a choice destination, but rather a choice we make when it seems we are out of choices. Both times I have resorted to the last resort, I've been lucky and grateful to have the option. I'd exhausted all other avenues, and it was the right place at the right time.

For people who pride themselves on being healthy or able to resist pain, on choosing the natural path or being able to self-heal (uh... me?) it can be difficult to succumb to more drastic measures and interventions, hard to acknowledge that the simple solution isn't going to work this time. For people whose identity lies in these factors, say practitioners of natural healing arts (me again?), it can be hard to admit 'defeat', that we couldn't fix this problem, that the philosophies and techniques that we espouse weren't helpful, this time.

I've stayed at better places, but I'm glad to know that there is always an vacancy at the last resort.

Fight The Good Fight

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 04:18:00 +0000

I am a pacifist. Actually, lately I suspect that I'm also a pacifier, though I try to encourage the baby to not loiter too long after eating. The point is... what was the point? Oh, the point is that I haven't slept in a long time and can no longer hold a train of thought.

Oh! No. The point is, I generally avoid confrontation. If you are going to yell at me, I'll probably just give you what you want to save my eardrums. Please don't tell my child this, though he likely suspects my weakness for shreekiness. Take last night, for example, when I felt that 3 hours seemed like an appropriate amount of time to swing a person. My 10 lb 14 oz opponent disagreed. We compromised, concluding that I'll just swing him in my arms until he starts high school, and he'll never cry again. And it's fine, really it is!

There are some times though, when I cannot walk away from a fight, when standing up for myself becomes not just a matter of principle, but my well-being and possibly my survival. This is when the discussion turns to my health. There are no people more worth fighting for than myself and my family, nothing more important than our health, and no doctor or facility that will ever back me into a corner. Which is not to say that I go around looking to fight endocrinologists or to imply that I enjoy going head to head with psychiatrists. I have deep respect for those in the health professions, especially in Canada where the vast majority are overworked and underpaid for their efforts. Actually, Canada is a big part of the problem. Canadians are the rest of the problem. Oh, Canada.

Because of our FREE! and wonderful health care system, we wait in long lines to see a doctor and are just grateful to be seen. We are less inclined to realize our rights, since we aren't paying for the service (directly) and, well, the doctor knows, right?

But what about when the doctor isn't right, or the treatment just isn't right for you? What if the wait time is too long? Maybe the specialist you were so lucky to get into didn't listen to you or rubbed you the wrong way? Well, then you remind yourself that your tax dollars pay for these services, and you speak up. I realize this is easier to do when you have the vocabulary and training behind you, certainly hospital staff are less likely to think you are just a pain in the butt when tell them you have an acute gluteal antalgia, but even the less eloquent have rights. You are entitled to a detailed and thorough examination and explanation of your problem. You deserve to know your treatment options, including what happens if you don't accept a proposed treatment. You are entitled to seek a second and even a third opinion. You should be free to ask as many questions as you have, even the stupid ones. You deserve to be treated with respect and empathy. We need to understand that when we visit a doctor, we are hiring him to do a job, paying with our tax dollars instead of our wallet. We have rights.

I recently exercised my right to fight the system. A day after checking out of the hospital with my new son, I had to return. The baby was fine, but I was only a few degrees away from having cat scratch fever. The doctor recommended antibiotics, which after confirming that they were compatible with breast-feeding, I agreed to take. It was further recommended that I stay the night, and since I had no plans except to hallucinate my fever away, I also agreed. Then I was told that while I was welcome to stay chez Women's College, for FREE! natch, my 4-day-old son was not welcome, since he had already checked out. The hospital claimed that there was nothing they could do, it was impossible, their hands were tied. This was the best option they could come up with.

And just like Dee Snider, I wasn't going to take it.

To separate a newborn from his mother, his comfort, and his food source because of administrative 'impossibilities' was unacceptable. So much so, that I was prepared to take my medication, go home with my infant and return the next day for my next dose and follow-up, a plan the hospital did not like. After negotiations and help from my husband and midwife, we came up with an acceptable solution, one that satisfied my medical and personal needs. But I wonder what a more timid or 'compliant' patient would have done, and I feel for the patient who doesn't know that they can say no or request a different plan of action.

Fighting for your rights doesn't mean being belligerent or demanding, but rather it means tactfully insisting on getting the care you need. In my health history, this has meant 'hiring' a neurosurgeon, a midwife and an obstetrician, a family doctor, and many, many chiropractors. These experts have helped me to manage different concerns, but always it is me who is ultimately responsible for my health decisions and outcomes. I have declined some medications and taken others. I have refused some tests and demanded others. I have asked for help getting earlier specialist appointments when my body told me not to wait and been a patient patient at other times. I do my best to make my doctors aware of my expectations, my needs, and my preferences, and this way I have been best able to look out for myself, and know that I will always be OK. I hope that you can say the same.

As the Beastie Boys teach, "you've got to fight for your rights"...to party... but it still applies. Give a new mother a break, this was the best closer I could come up with on 3 hours sleep, besides, I'm busy swinging my son.

You Make Plans...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 16:45:00 +0000

There is a lot of talk these days about 'health plans'. These two words don't always go together well though, 'cause when it comes to your health, anything can and will happen.

I hope this isn't scary, but rather freeing. You might exercise a little or a lot, eat at Burger.King daily or never, follow the rules or break them, and typically, your health will follow suit. But sometimes the exercise freak has a heart attack, and his chubby friend rushes him to the hospital. Sometimes the yogi has low back pain and the weekend warrior cruises unharmed. Sometimes genetics/fate/happenstance intervene, despite (or in spite of) our best intentions.

So what is a fatalist to do? How does one accept that we can't always control or even predict how our bodies will behave? As corny as it sounds, I think the answer is to accept and let go. Search for the message in the event. Listen to your body, really hear what it is saying.

It is not unusual for people to come to me in crisis right before Christmas. Or a vacation. Or a wedding. Back pain often strikes at the worst time possible, in part because there really is no good time to be laid out flat on your back (well, not many good times). Fortunately, there are things you can do to expedite the healing process - chiropractic comes to mind (!), but always, time and patience are required. If you are injured, as frustrating as it may be, listen to your body, hear its message. It might be that you need to slow down, rest more. When we ignore the whispers (ooh, my back is a little tight!) the body shouts (AARGH my back REALLY HURTS!!!). Pay attention, spine owners!

I have a long history of painful back episodes, most coinciding with major life changes, as though my body was trying to sabotage my plans; the first time my back 'went out' was right before I started university. Other major flare-ups conveniently occurred at the start of my chiropractic internship, the week before my wedding, and during the first trimester of my pregnancy. My back is my weak spot and is at risk when I am under stress, and I now understand that I need to take extra precautions ahead of potentially stressful times. I get an adjustment before the vacation, start yoga before I'm stressed, get a massage before I really need one. I try to avoid being shouted at by my body by giving it what it needs, before it NEEDS it.

But it doesn't always work, and inevitably, we all will get aches and pains. So when those old familiar (painful) feelings come back, relax. Cancel your plans, call in sick, visit your chiropractor, have a massage or some acupuncture. Invest in a good reusable ice pack (really people, spend the $5, and make the peas for dinner!) and rent some DVDs (I recommend Arrested Development - even funnier the second time around). Get some rest, chances are you need it.

Remember, this too shall pass.

All In The Family

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 00:35:00 +0000

When I was pregnant, people warned me that when the baby comes, all other things fall by the wayside. Not for me, I insisted... I'm a multitasker extraordinaire. In fact, right now as I compose this blog, I'm concurrently typing, getting a head start on my 2009 taxes, baking a souffle and sanding the floors. Puh-lease, a little tiny baby should present no problem.

And yet, here we are, over a fortnight since my last post. My readers must be outraged. But trust that I've been racking my sleep-deprived brain for chiropractic and health-related blog topics all the while. Knee injuries? The effects of foot pronation on low back pain? Natural headache remedies? All fascinating, to be sure, but not as captivating as my TINY ADORABLE BABY!

To hell with lumbago, my baby is taking his first bath!

Who cares about proper sleep positions... my baby sleeps swaddled up tight!

Sure, I can treat your foot pain... but check out my baby's tiny foot!!

So you see the problem. But presently he sleeps, and here I blog. In the spirit of this weekend's holidays honouring St. Valentine and his family, please allow me this bit of cyberspace to 'kvell'. For I have recently gone from being part of a couple to part of a family, and I am deeply, severely, completely, in love.

So enjoy this long weekend, spend time with people you love and with your family (if you are lucky, there will be some overlap there), and forgive me for being slightly baby obsessed for now. I blame it on the oxytocin coursing through my veins.

But can you blame me?

Oliver Everett Roth

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 23:14:00 +0000

Born January 24, 2009. Oliver shares a birthday with both his mother and his paternal grandmother.

6 pounds, 11 ounces of fuzziness.

I'm in love.

Labour Strike

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 01:30:00 +0000

It is now day 10 of the labour strike, but it is unclear who is on strike - the baby or I? Scientists don't fully understand which party initiates labour, who 'gets this party started' as it were. In sheep, where thankfully extensive research has been done, it is the fetus who makes the exit strategy. But my baby is no sheep, and here we are, on day 10 of our stand-off. Silly me for assuming that 41+ weeks of gestation entitled me to a baby, that contractions were part of the contract.

Further attempts at deploying a peaceful withdrawal strategy have included evening primrose oil, more acupuncture, spicy food in every form, meditation, recipes incorporating eggplant and pineapples (eww, not together!), homeopathic remedies and walking every mall and street in Toronto. I've also made tons of dates and appointments I couldn't possibly keep, in the hopes of tempting fate. Instead, I've brunched and lunched, visited the salon and watched long movies, and started, completed and eated 8-hour-crockpot recipes.

A good friend likes to tell me that this is my first lesson in parenthood, that things don't go according to plan. Got it. Lesson learned. Let's move on now, shall we? Surely there are other lessons awaiting me, like how to put on a diaper, or uh, how to raise a child.

There is a lot of talk about induction lately, and January 20th holds much promise. As I watched Barack Obama's induction into office as President of the United States, I thought a lot about my own induction ceremonies, though unlike Obama, mine may include castor oil. These are desperate times, people. It certainly is an auspicious time for a new arrival though, a good day to mark the end of one, full term, and start another, yes?

Yes we can, baby... yes we can.

If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 06:28:00 +0000

People have much to say about pregnancy, everyone seems to be an expert. Take me, for example - I've written how many posts about having a baby? And I don't even HAVE a baby!

Old wives, new wives and even my plumber all have tales about what to do, what not to do, what to expect when you are expecting. (Interesting fact: I've dealt more with my plumber than my midwife in the last few weeks. Everything water-related seems to be breaking, except my water.) Now that I'm officially overdue, I hear a lot about how to induce labour. I thought I'd sum up my experiences so far.

Chiropractic adjustments. These have been a part of my routine this whole pregnancy. Drs Bain, Steiner and Weisberg have all kept me aligned and feeling well. To be honest I didn't bother making an appointment this week, since I'd obviously be busy with my newborn. Ha.

Red Raspberry Leaf Tea, said to tonify the uterus. I've drunk (drank? drinken?) so much of this. It is all we have in the house. Even my husband is drinking it. And neither one of us has birthed a baby, yet.

Prenatal massage. This is not a luxury, but a necessity. Amanda saved me when my back flared up early on, Kaaren kept me going in the middle months, and Kristy has worked her magic on my ribs and hips in these last weeks. I managed to get one more massage in last week, though if this baby stays put, I guess I'll just have to book another treatment!

Energy Work. I visited with Shawn Gallagher last week to try out some new therapies she has been studying. This is the same woman who taught us hypnosis for childbirth, a class I really enjoyed and will report on after I've had the chance to put her lessons to use. She is a wonderful practitioner, intuitive and calming, and we worked on releasing any blockages or fears that I may be holding onto surrounding this upcoming birth. I felt remarkably lighter after the session with her, no small feat for a person carrying around so much weight! I can't recommend her enough.

Stretch and sweep. The midwife does this. On one's cervix. You may feel crampy after. That's all I'll say about that.

People have recommended, uh, partaking in certain, umm, activities to induce labour, the kind of activities that get a lady in this sort of predicament in the first place. Ha Ha. That's all I'll say about THAT.

Acupuncture. Lisa Quaning is one of my favourite people, and without a doubt my favourite acupuncturist. She personifies tranquility and exudes peacefulness. Her treatments are as lovely and relaxing as they are effective. She painlessly inserted the needles, smiling as she suggested that there may be some tenderness to come... and I'll admit it, it was a bit tender. But the baby moved a lot and got the hiccups, so that has to mean something, right? I will try this again on Monday if I haven't had the baby.

Eviction notice. Unfortunately the tenancy laws in Toronto are notoriously biased toward the resident, who at this point is technically a squatter.

Evening Primrose Oil. I took this, though it is hard to say if it worked, because I also ordered in take-out that night. Leading me to...

Eat spicy food. Indian! Chicken tikka massala, aloo ghobi... yum. But I think it was the lamb vindaloo that got me. Because a few hours later, I woke up having contractions! They increased in intensity and frequency, enough that we called the midwife... only to be accused of the rookie move, jumping the labour gun. Back to sleep it was.

So, those are my experiences so far. I'm resting now, hoping that tonight's full moon works its lunar magic, but I'm open to suggestions for next week, just in case. I'm thinking: return to work (maternity leave isn't really living up to its name, is it?), trampoline lessons, eat jalapeno peppers, more acupuncture, install new shelving in the laundry room, begging and bribing the baby.

But you know, (love,) there's one more thing to consider - the words of the poet Axl Rose, who said woman take it slow, it'll work itself out fine, all we need is just a little patience...

Eviction Notice

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 01:15:00 +0000

Dear Baby;

The fat lady has sung (laaaa!). It is time... get out!

Your lease is up. I assumed it was understood that the current domestic arrangements were temporary, a place for you to stay until you could make it on your own in the outside world.

I also feel that you are too attached to me. Let's try some time and space apart - just a little bit! You'll be fine. Please vacate the premises ASAP.

You've generally been a great tenant, though at times I questioned the hours you keep, and apparently you are a cast member of Riverdance. We can talk about these things on the outside though, after you are born! (and can you get me tickets?)

Frankly you've outgrown your current space, you've run out of womb. The superintendent (your father) and I feel that you should expand your horizons. It is time, baby, to explore the world.

I look forward to meeting with you in person - I'm so excited, I'm literally bursting at the seams!

Respectfully and with love,
Your mother.

auld lang syne

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 21:45:00 +0000

Finally, 2009... I for one couldn't be happier.

After the gluttony of the holidays, it is now time to make empty promises to be better next year! Resolutions... do you ever think that perhaps the people who need them most are the ones with the least resolve? Most resolutions revolve around promises of better health or a vow to increase the proportion of virtue to vice (or vice versa). I suppose if they motivate change for the better resolutions can't be all bad, but the act of resolving to do something seems destined to fail. Better we choose our paths along the way, not just when the Gregorian calendar adds a year... no?

However, being of particularly sound and sober mind this year, I am ready to make a few... choices, myself. And not just regular boring 'get in shape!' or 'be nicer to my sister!' ones, but ones I can really do... or at least have fun failing at.

For 2009, I resolve and choose to:

Have a baby! Within the month of January!
Be able to do push-ups again, without my belly getting in the way. And chin-ups. Less one chin.
Continue to blog.
Not let this space turn into a 'mommy blog'. I'll try to remember why you come here - the health tips! The astute observances! The sarcasm!! (and... maybe a few baby updates...!!)
Aim for balance in my life. It is difficult enough at the best of times to balance being a chiropractor, a wife, a friend and an individual. Adding 'mother' to the mix can only complicate things, in the most wonderful way possible. I'm up for the challenge.

I hope whatever choices you make for the upcoming year bring you happiness and fulfillment. For me, 2009 promises to be a year of watershed moments and new milestones.

I'm ready. Bring it.
Happy New Year!

A Great Miracle Happened Where?

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 23:00:00 +0000

I've been told that my baby-to-be is a miracle.

People stare in awe at my bump, and declare it miraculous. And though the fact that there are garments generous enough to cover my circumference is somewhat awesome, it has more to do with the extraordinary properties of lycra than any metaphysical occurrence. The word miracle gets thrown around a lot, and while I'm blown away that a HUMAN BEING IS GROWING INSIDE OF ME and privileged to be its host, with 4 births occuring every second around the world, you'd think we'd stop being impressed by the event.

A miracle is defined as an extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause. A wonder, a marvel. The spiritualist in me agrees that this life being created is indeed a wonder, whose existence is the result of a love between two people, the whim of a higher being, and elements that we cannot understand like fate and chance. The scientist in me rolls her eyes, and says that specialized cells meet under favourable conditions, and approximately 40 gestational weeks later, baby is born. The scientist then goes on to ask, sarcastically, if something that can be created just as well by a pair of randy 16-year-olds can ever be called miraculous. She then gets kicked in the ribs by her very own miracle.

But 'tis the season, and there is a lot of talk about miracles, what with immaculate conceptions and oil lasting a week longer than expected, and it just has me thinking, 'tis all. I've decided that this is something of a miracle, but in the same way that a tree is a miracle; an everyday, beautiful, boring, miracle.

So whether you are spending this holiday season contemplating the arrival of a baby, thinking about people with big round bellies, lighting candles and eating deep-fried potatoes, or just spending time with friends and family, I hope it is a nice one for you. (I'll be doing all of the above!)

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and Happy Festivus (for the rest of us!)!

As the twig is bent...

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 23:02:00 +0000

There is a saying in chiropractic. Well, actually there are a few sayings in chiropractic, such as "Chiropractic adds years to life, and life to years!" (incidentally, this was disproved...) and "See you next Tuesday, Janice". But one I really like is "As the twig is bent, so grows the tree".

It is used to illustrate the necessity of chiropractic for kids. For some reason the idea of adjusting kids is off-putting to many adults. They picture me cracking delicate little spines, crunching tiny vertebra. They reason that kids don't, or shouldn't, have back pain, that this is an affliction of the middle-age, like arthritis and mom-jeans.

I'm not going to convince you that your children need to be adjusted regularly, I'm not convinced myself. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right? But what do you do for the 8-year-old complaining of back pain? Or the 4-year-old who fell really hard on his bum at the park? Maybe your child has been having unrelenting digestive issues but has been cleared by every specialist in town... and you've heard that chiropractic just might help?? What then?

Then bring that child to the chiropractor. Find a doc who is comfortable working with little kids and little spines. Learn how gentle adjustments are on children, the force proportionate to the person. On tiny babies it is really more of a gentle, sustained pressure at a specific spot!

We ask a lot of kids. We encourage them to be active, making them vulnerable to the usual sports injuries, then sit them at a desk all day long like adults, predisposing them to postural problems. Yet we are shocked when little bodies hurt, and often reluctant to treat them. "Dylan shouldn't have back pain, he is only 10-years-old!" Can you imagine doing this with any other health problem? "Little Madison shouldn't have bronchitis, she is only 10-years-old!". Pain is just as real and important in kids as in adults, and they are no less deserving of treatment than we are.

One of the best things about treating kids is their lack of attachment to their aches and pains, combined with their short attention spans. Most of the time when I treat a child, only two or three visits are needed to 'resolve' the problem. They just... get better. When I ask at follow-up how their pain is, they often shrug and say 'fine', as if only 3 days ago they weren't complaining about the pain and asking to be let out of gym class. They just... get better.

As a chiropractor, I enjoy treating kids if and when it is appropriate. As a parent-to-be, I'll treat the spine of my spawn the same way - conservatively, if and when needed. I don't plan on ignoring their problems simply because they seem too young to be having them, and I don't plan to include back problems in their inheritance.

So back to that saying. As the twig is bent, so grows the tree. Injuries in childhood can become big problems in adulthood. Taking care of them early, nipping them in the bud as it were, will encourage good posture and spinal health.

Comings and Goings

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 16:00:00 +0000

I can't believe it is already now. Today, or soon from it, once seemed so far away. Impossibly far away. Unbelievably far away. In the spring, when I first considered the passing of time and what it would bring, the seasons seemed resolutely unchangeable. But it's astounding, how time is fleeting... almost like a time warp.

And here we are. Now is the winter of my content, and I'm full with child, (yes, still only one in there...), due in about 4 weeks, getting ready to take a break from work to do... well, I'm not quite sure. Other work, I suppose - more motherly, less chiropractically.

We all must leave sometimes, right? Change is good, right?

I will likely start my maternity leave around Christmas, just like Mary did. I anticipate returning to work... sometime in March, in part because our socialized government never thought to extend any maternity leave benefits to self-employed women (If I were the type to get angered by unfair politics and policies that punish female small business owners, I'd surely blog about this sort of thing...). This is of course dependent on the whims of my new boss and his feeding and sleeping schedule.

During my baby sabbatical, my patients will be attended to by Dr. Alanna Steiner and Dr. Zachary Bain. Many of you have already met Dr . Bain at the clinic, but please allow me to introduce Dr. Steiner, an extremely caring and competent chiropractor.

Dr. Steiner's technique is remarkably similar to mine, and I will be in regular contact with her to make sure that she is up to date on the details and particulars of any patients she will be treating. You'll be in good hands!

Remember, although I'll be absent physically (and mentally from what I hear - apparently Baby Brain progresses to Mommy Brain) for a few weeks, I'm never really gone. I'll be posting blog updates (chiropractic! babies! random thoughts!!) and I'm always reachable some way or another... in the meantime, I'm still here, so get that adjustment while I can still reach across the chiropractic table!

Miss Conception

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 17:23:00 +0000

All seems to be fine on the baby-making front, everything (everything) rounding out as it should. I seem to have entered the 'nesting' stage, a phenomenon seen throughout the animal kingdom as gravid mammals prepare the nest for their offspring. We are opting for a crib instead of a nest, but the preparations continue nonetheless.

I'm at mother nature's mercy, powerless against this cruel taskmistress's drive to clean and organize. I've cleaned the skeletons out of my closets, dusted the insides of all my envelopes and even done the laundry. It is doubly grueling work for me, because my new OCD doesn't stay confined to the house. At my clinic I'm cleaning just as frenetically, straightening up and straightening spines, and I find I cannot stand to let a patient leave with a single vertebra out of alignment - my baby simply must be born in a state of order.

As I obsessively and cleanly come to the end of my gestation, I've had time to reflect on this procreative era, and while I think I've mastered Pregnancy 101 (except for the final exam!), I still have a few outstanding issues that I'm confused on, misconceptions if you will. Raise your hand if you know an answer.

Is it OK to ask a woman how much weight she's gained? I thought the answer was almost always unequivocally NO. But it seems that the more protuberant my belly became, the more people wanted to know it's mass. Oh, I'll tell them, I'm not ashamed and it's not like I can hide this bump (hell, a muu-muu couldn't hide it) or the ice cream stains running down it for that matter... I just... thought that... people, MEN in particular... knew not to ask this. And by golly, they asked.

"Are you sure it's not twins?" Is this funny? Am I THAT large, or do you think that I may have already forgotten (one of) my babies? For the record, I'm sure.

What is the point of the linea negra, that charming line that appears down the stomach? I like to think it is slimming, being a vertical stripe and all, but perhaps I'm deluding myself? Why isn't there more research on this phenomenon?

Why the fascination with food cravings? This is one of the more popular questions I've heard - and don't get me wrong, meals are a favourite topic these days, but I feel like I'm a big fat disappointment when I don't cop to craving pickles and ice cream. Does 'food' count as a craving?

Baby stuff. Do I really need all this stuff? I'm being given lists of things that bounce and swing and vibrate and play music. Things to use for the first few weeks and a whole new inventory for the next few weeks. Things to sterilize with and things to stroll with, and their many, many accessories. Are these all necessary? Because I thought that all I really needed to start was couple of lactation dispensation devices (got 'em!) and some blankets...

What is the obsession with knowing the sex? I'd like to find out eventually, perhaps on the baby's birthday at the latest, but am I alone in savouring this delicious surprise? I want so badly to know, I can't wait to find out, I studied sex determination on ultrasound imaging and stared at that screen like my life depended on it...therefore I think I know the sex of this child, but I don't know for sure (I'm told that can look like a number of things...). And that uncertainty is tantalizing to me. It's like an unread book by your favourite author, an unopened letter, the anticipation of a good meal. (See? Back to food. Always back to food.)

The funny thing about being pregnant is that just when you think you've got it mastered, it changes. And from what I hear, that's what parenthood is kind of like too. But until then (5 weeks!), I'm enjoying this time between life before and life after, this pregnant pause if you will. Just call me Miss Conception 2008.

My Hips Don't Lie

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 22:45:00 +0000

Today's blog post is about hips.

I know... you think you know 'the hips'. Often curvy, located between the thigh bone and the back bone. (Oh, those bones, those bones, those crazy skeleton bones.)

But when patients come in complaining of hip pain, it often becomes obvious that one of us didn't pass Anatomy 101. "My hip hurts", you say, pointing to your waist or lower back. "Fix my hip" you insist.

The picture to the left was found by Googling 'hip pain', though I'd refer to that area as the low back, the upper glutes, or even the 'iliac crest' if I thought you'd be impressed by that sort of thing. True hip joint pain will present in the front near the groin, as demonstrated by the picture to the right. Note that these are my favourite patients, the ones who present with their bones visible through their clothes and the problem highlighted in bright red. Makes for an easy diagnosis.

Just so we are clear: the hip joint proper refers to the connection between the femur (leg bone) inserting into the pelvis. So in fact, the thigh bone connects to the pelvic bone, and I don't really know what the hip bone is. It is a fascinating joint, the hip (to me anyway... though my favourite joint is the shoulder. Fun!), influenced by a host of muscles like the iliopsoas and the gluteals. It is a stable ball and socket joint, which sacrifices mobility for stability. This means that it is strong enough to hold up your hefty 'hips', Beyonce, but just mobile enough to let you walk, and rarely mobile enough to do the splits or the cancan.

I've had some of my own hip pain lately, thanks to a certain fetus who shall remain nameless (Especially if it is a girl, seriously, we can't agree on a name. Suggestions welcome...). This is a common pregnancy complaint, hip pain, due to pressure from the growing baby directly on the pelvic joints as well as muscular compensation around the area. In my case, the baby was positioned diagonally, the head pushing against the inside of one side of my pelvis.

Funny thing, it felt just like someone was pushing my pelvis apart from the inside.

My relief came in the form of massage, pelvic adjustments, and the baby committing to a more head down position. A complete cure for my particular condition apparently involves becoming a parent. Fortunately, most hip pain problems are much simpler to treat. Hip pain from arthritis is often managed with a combination of massage and modalities such as ultrasound, as well as nutritional supplements like glucosamine. Hip pain in runners is commonly due to iliotibial tightness and can be relieved by releasing that muscle. Hip pain may also be due to bursitis, a local inflammation that responds to ice and rest.

Tragically, hip pain is often misdiagnosed due to simple anatomical confusion. (Tragically Hip pain is entirely different, often due to pain in little bones, but can be fully completely treated.*) The important thing is to really understand the origin of your 'hip' pain, and treat it accordingly.

So, Shakira, your hips may not lie, but they sure are misleading. Work that into a catchy tune.

*I'm so sorry for this... so very sorry.

Baby Brain

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 00:20:00 +0000

I've been trying to get a blog post up for the last week. I've got many started, covering fascinating and sure-to-be popular topics such as: 'Anatomically Relevant Idioms!', and 'Hip Hip Hooray... not. When Hip Pain Strikes', and the much anticipated 'Mind Over Uterus: Using Hypnosis to Manage Childbirth'. Of course these are all working titles only, but I'm sure I've whetted your literary and chiropractic appetites.

The problem? I can't finish a damn thing. This is not writer's block - I've got plenty to say! I just can't find the words. I'm... a little slow lately. With words. And stuff. Like on any given day I usually have at least one article of clothing on backwards. Fortunately (or not, as it were) it is usually a garment not visible to the public. I recently washed the television remote control along with the duvet cover, not noticing until halfway through the dry cycle (45 minutes of CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK didn't tip me off!). I know I've done other dimwitted things, but they've seemed to have slipped my mind. My sieve-like mind.

It took me a while to catch on. Perhaps I needed more sleep? A case of premature senility? Maybe too much zinc in my diet... or would that be not enough? Why was I so obtuse (thank you thesaurus.com)?

Baby Brain.

To be perfectly frank, I had always doubted the veracity (is that the right word?) of this condition. I felt it was an excuse that the, let's be honest here, more simple moms-to-be used to make up for their... uh... shortcomings. Surely a braniac like myself would only thrive during pregnancy. I'd spend the 9 months reading up on child-rearing philosophies while mastering sign language to teach to my genetically gifted infant, and maybe finish that book on Jung that I'd started.

Well. Mea Culpa (does that make sense? Latin is not a strong subject right now either...). My bad. Apparently, you're with stupid. I've got a bad case of baby brain. My blood stream has been rerouted to the womb.

So, loyal readers, forgive me if there is greater space between posts, for there seems to be greater space between my ears. I've got a bunch of really, really good stuff started... but these days the only thing I seem to be able to finish is a meal.

I Remember

noreply@blogger.com (Dr. Michelle Fagen) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 16:11:00 +0000

Remembrance Day.

As a child November 11th was about fuzzy plastic poppy pins (and wearing them in your mouth as funny lips), reciting "In Flanders Fields" and listening to a trumpet sound. And something about soldiers.

I never really felt much on this day, but this year seems more momentous. Maybe my own life-changing events are causing me to reflect. Perhaps the recent political election and renewed sense of hope from down south are affecting me. I just find myself thinking a lot this remembrance day, hoping that soon, the concept of war will be so far from our day to day life that it will become harder and harder to relate to. That we will need Remembrance Day more than ever, because otherwise, we will have forgotten that some people are not free.

Until then, I remember.