Jeanne Faulkner

Just another do-gooder story - Burgerville, Banking and Back to School

My car was packed with little girls and dogs and our destination was Jamison Square for a hot summer's evening, picnicking and playing in the fountain.  We pulled into the drive through at Burgerville on Martin Luther King Blvd in Portland; the one near the Oregon Convention Center.  We placed our order, pulled up to the window and was greeted by the friendliest, most gracious and happiest-to-have-a-job order-taker I've ever met. He wasn't a teenager or college kid and if he wasn't just plain delighted about  providing customer service, than he sure fooled me. It's good to have work.

I dug  in my purse for my debit card and...didn't have it.  Not a credit card, not cash, not even my check book.  Nada.   I've had this moment before. This is a moment I hate. I told the guy, "Sorry, this sucks. I don't have my card.   I only live five minutes from here. Just hold on to my food and  I'll be right back."  He told me to hold tight and he'd get the manager.  The manager, who was just as friendly as the window man and said, "don't worry about it.  Just take the food and come back when you can."  I am not kidding you.  He handed me two bags of food, three milkshakes and a Sprite, extra ketchup and salt and said, "I'm sure we'll see you sometime soon."  I'm sure he thought he'd see me sometime like never.  I drove  home, grabbed my debit card out of the pocket of the dirty jeans I'd dropped on my floor, jumped in the car and cruised right back through Burgerville's drive-through.  I handed window-man my card and  he said, "W My manager's going to want to talk to you."  The manager said, "Seriously, you didn't have to do that.  I would have been happy for you to come back tomorrow."  When I said, "Thanks for being generous and for trusting me," he said, "Well, we sure need more of that in the world, right?  Thanks for being honest."  If you don't already love Burgerville for being the only fast-food joint around that uses local, sustainable and organic materials or for their blackberry or hazelnut milkshakes, you should love them because they're kind to their customers. 

I've been working on some banking issues.  Let's just call them that, shall we?  Banking issues.  Again, this is a moment I hate.  The recession isn't making any bank feel like risking their money on freelancers and On Point Credit Union isn't any different.  Thomas was my loan liaison and even though he had to email  me a disapointing, professional and not very surprising, "sorry, no luck,"  he had the decency to call me a few days later to tell me how I might amend my situation and offered ideas.  He wasn't hawking another On Point product, he was just offering his opinion and advice and he was just plain nice about it.  It really took the sting out of the situation and yes, if things change (AKA, if I'd just quit freelancing and get myself some W2s for Lord's sake) , I would definitely go back to On Point.  Decent, professional and kind.  I loves me some good customer service.

This rejection led me back home to my own bank - Umpqua Bank on 14th and Weidler.  Candace, Jessica and Faye are "my bankers" and we know each other well enough to notice each others' new haircuts, weight loss, promotions, maternity leaves and the daily changes that come with doing business together over time.  Here's what I love about Umpqua - if my balance is dangerously flirting with disaster, they call me and say, "hey there, did you get any paychecks in the mail today because if you could get a deposit in  we can cover your mortgage."  This is how you take a moment I hate and turn it into a moment that sucks  less.  I can say for certain,  I never received that kind of customer service, support, kindness and respect from any of the big-name banks.  That's why I bank here.  I like Candace, Jessica and Faye.  They take care of me and are currently looking for ways to help a hard-working freelancer with a big ol' family make it.  

And now, a word about people in the back-to-school business.  I want to give a shout out to Susie O'Donnell at University of Puget Sound for being a sweetheart who heard me, helped me and held my hand again through the daunting college-funding process.  Thank you, thank you, and thanks again.

My son is starting his freshman year at Grant High School next week.  We stopped by the school to pay the fees for his "free" public  education and the doors were locked tight.  We found one propped open at the side of the building and walked through dark halls to the office. A woman sitting in the otherwise empty office greeted us and introduced herself as   Vivan Orien, the new principal. She told us no one was supposed to be in the building yet and that she had  sneaked in too.   When I said, "That's cool, we were just here to pay fees and get books," she looked at my son and said, "Hey, I know you.  You're an incoming freshman, right?  Do you know who I am?"  My son didn't have a clue until she said, "take a good look and think of a 'skinny little Michael Jackson.'"  My son dropped the WTF? look and recognized her. "Oh yeah, you're Jake's mom. He was in my core class  in middle school.  You're the new principal?"  A short conversation ensued where in the principal recognized my son as the prematurely man-like, sweetheart 8th grader who'd shared a classroom, his sense of humor and some kindness with her son, a skinny little 6th grader who apparently impersonated Michael Jackson in a talent show."  A personal connection was made that will help my son stand out in his new big school.  Honestly, the principal was just doing her job and my son would stand out anyway but still it's good to have a personal connection.

Sometimes, saving the world means  good customer service.  Yeah, it's  just good business but business is always at least a little bit personal no matter if it's fast food, banking or back to school. 

Just another do-gooder story - Saving the World: A Fashion Story

Once again, Pakistan is drowning from natural disaster.  They haven’t recovered from their earthquake and now, flood has taken their collective breath away.  These war-torn, desperately impoverished yet strikingly resilient people are suffering from their own “Hurricane Katrina.”  And once again, Americans are called upon to dig deep into their hearts and pockets and help them.  And we will.  Americans are among the most generous of nations and our citizens can’t help themselves.  They will help. 

 

Of course, CARE was already on the ground and able to help in a hurry.  That’s because Pakistan is one of the countries they have development projects in.  What’s frustrating is that while the need never abates, resources do so when the call goes out for help, fewer people are moved to donate.  It’s like we suffer from crisis fatigue and still, we’ll help.

 

So, in order to lighten the mood from so many disasters, let’s talk about humanitarianism from a different angle:  Saving the World – A Fashion Story

 

Dr. Helene Gayle, President and CEO of CARE, is a powerhouse doctor, who runs the most effective humanitarian organization in the world (I’m sure that’s a fact).  More Magazine ran a profile of Dr. Gayle in their July issue (Gayle Force by Jan Goodwin) describing her schedule, stamina and surgical focus as she swept through Africa, hosting a learning tour for American politicians. I’ve had the privilege of interviewing Dr. Gayle so I wasn’t surprised by her brilliant education, resume and skill-set, which are dazzling.  I read the article looking for one thing – what was Dr. Gayle wearing.  I’ve dubbed her “Helene of the fabulous dresses” because every time I see her at CARE events, she’s wearing a brightly colored, perfectly fitted dress, understated accessories and gorgeous shoes that accentuate her crisp and stunning presence. 

 

Yes, she’s the CEO and President of CARE.  Yes, she’s headlined on some of the world’s most important stages from the Centers for Disease Control to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Yes, she keeps a grueling schedule. But she’s also really fashionable and kind of girly.  I love that about her.  She wears black pants and a print button-down in the photo that fronts the article but read all the way through and … there it is:  “Gayle showed up for the event looking fabulous in a vivid orange linen two-piece with a wide cinch belt.”  Thank you, Dr. Gayle, for adding fashion to your list of fabulosities.

 

Fashion’s an important part of saving the world – Tom’s shoes and Gap’s Red jeans provide important revenue to help children in poor countries and people with AIDS. They mean you can do good just by getting dressed in the morning.  Nothing’s more functional for people providing direct aid than a uniform of Chaco sandals and a pair of cargo pants.  And then there are accessories produced by women in developing countries who’ve received microloans. Scarves, jewelry, bags and other beautiful handmade garments are creating an important personal and financial link between women around the world.  Fashion changes lives. 

Just another do-gooder story - A Trifecta of Do-Goodery at the Train Station

I dropped my daughter off at the train station this evening.  High on the wall of Union Train Station in downtown Portland, the sign above the lobby store said:  Parcels, News, Cigars.  After my daughter boarded her train, I wandered over to see if Parcels were the same as Sundries. 

A little boy, maybe 9 years old, waited on an old wooden bench and watched as his grandmother shuffled back from the lobby store, clutching a dripping ice cream cone.  When she finally reached him, he grabbed on and said "thanks, Gramma."  She sat down with a huff that rattled the bench and the ice cream promptly fell on to the boy's shoe.  He looked like he wanted to cry, but in that split second of reaction to losing that hard won ice cream, you could also see his face register - he was too old to cry. 

One bench over, a woman with a lap-full of toddler, grabbed a handful of baby wipes, tucked her little one under her arm, walked over to the little boy and wiped the ice cream off his shoe.  She didn't say anything about: cleaning up kid-splatter was a reflex. 

Just a few feet away, a grubby man in sagging, dirty jeans, (he looked homeless), had been asking people who walked by, "hey, can you spare some change?"  He saw it all go down: the old lady's struggle to walk  with a cone for her grandson,  the fall of the ice cream, the splat on the shoe, the little boy's restraint from having a total ear-piercing tantrum, the woman cleaning up a child she didn't know.  He looked like he hadn't eaten lately yet he walked over to the ice cream store, unloaded  his change and bought that kid another ice cream.

He carried the napkin-wrapped cone over to the little boy and said, "Hey lil buddy, here you go. That ought to make you feel better."  You could tell by looking at the grandma's face she was thinking, " eating  ice cream that guy just touched is probably not a good idea."  But instead,she said: "go ahead, honey, enjoy it."  As the little boy happily dug into the cone, the old lady looked up at the homeless guy she said, "Well aren't you just the sweetest thing?" 

That was damn near Rockwellian.  I wanted to kiss for not saying, "No, thank you" to that homeless guy.  That would have broken my heart.  As I was walking away, a couple was walking up to talk to the homeless guy.  I don't think this do-goodery chain was anywhere near over.

  Sometimes, all it takes is a little ice cream to save the world. 

Just another do-gooder story - PDX Pop Now and Portland Bridge Festivals

Portland is a weirdly wonderful city filled with generous do gooders, even while they're trying to be all cool, aloof and alt-cultural. PDX Pop Now and Portland Bridge Festival were teeming with hipsters, hippies, students, divas and those who will not be classified. Young men with trying-too-hard mustaches and young women with handcrafted skirts and treasures from the Goodwill bins, yards and yards of silk of sarongs, crinolines and the special clothes one saves for Burning Man.  They were all there, so present for the music enhancing their own unique vibe of sophistication.  And yet...they couldn't help themselves.  They were good.  So good.  

Standing in Rotture, (the warehouse turned music venue that has donated their space for the past five PDX Pop Now festivals), a teenager crowded in with a hundred other fans, listening to  free music with her boyfriend.  Standing next to her was my daughter, hanging out with her friends, just having fun.  The teenager fainted and the surge of do-gooding began. My daughter and other strangers helped the woozy girl out into fresh air, got her water and something to eat, called her dad and stayed with her until she was well again and they were certain she'd be OK.  Was the girl drunk or under the influence?  No, she was just hot, thirsty and hungry.  She'd forgotten to take care of herself.  She'd locked her knees.  We've all done that when the music was just too engrossing.  

I joined the festival a couple hours later, dragging my youngest daughter along with me.  This was sooo not her scene, a ten-year-old girl in a bright cotton sundress and red sandals, looking so clean and fresh, just like all these festival kids looked, not more than 10 years before.  She and I stood at the edge of the crowded warehouse and watched for a while.  During the course of one set, half a dozen scrubby, unwashed, tattooed, rough-around-the-edges kids came over one by one and said  "Excuse me, would you like a set of ear plugs for your little girl?" They were so sweet, so generous, so delighted to see a need and go out of their way to take care of it.   I said " yes, please and thank you" to every one of them, even though her ears were already suitably plugged.  They were just so adorable and kind, I didn't want to discourage them with a , "no thanks - we're good."  Random acts of kindness should be accepted whenever possible, even when you don't really need them.  You can save them in a little spot in your heart for when you might need it later or can donate to some other stranger in need.

Out in the street, waiting for the next band, I saw countless acts of goodness.  PDX Pop Now is volunteer run.  Dozens of people carried equipment, wrapped cords, snapped pictures, poured drinks and picked up trash, all to  shine a spotlight on Portland musicians.  They kept it clean so it could be an all ages event and kept it free so everyone could be in on it.  Everyone there had a small part in saving the world, one musician, one audience-member, one friend or stranger at a time.

Later, we walked over to the Portland Bridge Festival.  Bearded, men dressed in brightly colored tutus and toting guitars (part of the band "Sneakin' Out) set up their equipment under the giant dome.  Just another way to keep Portland weird. 

We didn't stay long at this festival.  My little girl had blisters on her feet from her new red shoes.  We stopped by the KBOO radio booth (one of the festival's sponsors) and asked where one could find a bandaid.  The guy manning the table dug in his wallet and handed over his emergency stash of bandages.  What kind of person keeps bandaids in his wallet?  A really good one who wants to be ready to help someone in need.  Sometimes, all it takes is  one bandaid, to save the world.  At least one little girl's world. 

Just another do-gooder story

Just Another Do-Gooder Story - CARE, Merkley, The Mountain Fund and Spider Man

I wrote an introductory email this week to Senator Merkley, telling him I'm going to be his new best friend, as Oregon's state and district chair for CARE.  Merkley is already a big supporter of the type of work CARE does.  He's spent time in developing countries and gets why it's important to help our global neighbors out of poverty.  He was an exchange student in Ghana while in college, then went on to study international relations at Stanford and then worked in India and Mexico on projects like building and operating an environmental camp for Mexican children. 

It won't be a hard sell talking to him about women's issues and poverty alleviation.  We're already players on the same team.  Plus, his wife used to work at Providence Hospital (my ex-employer) with my friend, Kelly who says both he and Mary are super nice.  That's such a bonus.  I know CARE supporters in other states are fighting an uphill battle when they have meetings with their Senators and Congressmen.  My job will be breeze

So, maybe you're asking, why IS it important to help our global neighbors out of poverty?  That's not such a lame question considering how tough things are here at home.   Simple story - Because we can.  The US is the biggest political power in the world.  We have the power to seriously improve the lives of people who live on less than a dollar a day.  We should help them because we can.  If that's not enough of a reason, then here are a few more: 

Because it's better to make friends than enemies.

Because the health of the world is every country's responsibility.

Because we're the ones causing a whole lot of climate change problems but it's the folks in developing countries that live with the fallout. 

Because, we can learn so much about what's truly important in life from other cultures.

Because Americans are unfailingly generous, creative and excellent at helping out in crises (Katrina? Haiti?) and if we put more into helping developing countries build infrastructure, they'd be better equipped to survive the next crisis.

Because nothing feels better than truly helping someone out.

And last but not least - quoting Peter Parker (Spiderman) here:  "Those who have great power, have great responsibility."  C'mon guys...Spidey says. 

Advocating for people less fortunate than we are is easy and doesn't cost a penny.  Last month, I met with staff members in Merkley's Portland office to ask for his support in passing the International Preventing Child Marriage Act of 2009 (S.987/H.R. 2103).  I sat around a table with State Director, Jeanne Atkins, CARE staffers Ellen Carmichael and Belen Cordovez a few other CARE supporters (among them Michelle Smith, owner of Piccolo Mondo Toy) in Beaverton) and we talked about it.  That's all.  We explained what it was, asked for his support and a few days later...he signed on and pledged his support to pass this thing.  It was as simple as that.   All it took was us asking him to help prevent little girls around the world from having to get married too young.  He said, OK - I'll do it.  Politics in action. Easy-peasy

Besides CARE - I want to spotlight a really inspiring non-profit organization that's looking for volunteers. They won't be offended by donations either.  The Mountain Fund, run by Scott MacClennan (who's this year's winner of the  Sir Edmund Hillary Mountain Legacy Medal) sets up childcare centers, health clinics, schools and more in Nepal and Peru and, here's their really cool project...trek-clinics.  That's right. Scott regularly organizes volunteers from all over the world to trek with him to remote mountain villages and provide health care.  You don't have to be a healthcare professional to help.  He'll take anyone and find a use for their skills.  I went and saw a slide show this week that Scott's touring her in the US. Log on to his website and find out when he's coming to your neck of the woods.  Then, buy your hiking boots and start breaking them in.  You won't want to get blisters while you're saving the world. 

Just another do-gooder story

I am forever pitching article ideas.  I like writing about people who are doing something to make life better for others.  Sometimes that's a child selling cookies and brownies door-to-door and donating the money for kids in Haiti. Sometimes  it's a rockin' NGO  helping girls in some small corner of the world learn to read.  A lot of the time, it's CARE - my favorite, excellent, and totally hot global humanitarian organization.  This is the stuff that sparks me. 

So, I pitch and pitch to magazine and newspaper editors but far too often here's what they say:  "Gosh, we love this idea.  We think it's great you want to write about it,  but we only have so much space for do-gooder stories.  Maybe they're just being nice and shutting me down easy, but I think the truth of the matter is:  they only have so much space for do-gooder stories.  The thing is, there are millions of really fascinating do-gooders out there, myself, of course, included.  They all have a story of why they're inspired to do something fabulous.  So, even if the big mags out there don't have the space, I'm going to write about it anyway.

 
Introducing:  my new blog - Just Another Do-Gooder Story:

This week, I took on a great big do-gooder project.  CARE asked me to become the State and District Chair for Oregon.  That means I'll talk to my senators (hey- Jeff Merkley- howyoudoin?) and congressmen (Earl Blumenauer, um, I like your bike pin) and their crazy-brilliant staff members about legislation CARE supports.  I'll have coffee with other CARE supporters and try to bring more people into the "save the world" community.  I'll throw a few parties, attend a lot of other do-gooder events and whatever else CARE asks me to do.  All the while, I'll try to be articulate, warm, funny, inspiring and, of course, fabulously dressed with impeccable hair and make up. 

This is going to be a bit of a challenge for me - and not just the lobbying part.  I think I may have gotten a C- in high school civics. Most of what I know about the constitution and how the government works, I learned from Schoolhouse Rock and my daughters We The People, Constitution Debate Team at Grant High School. This weekend, I'll go find a used copy of US Government for Dummies and try to unravel the difference between a bill and an act.

Sometimes, I can be kind of snarky and catty.  I try to be like the Dalai Lama, and never speak ill of anyone, never gossip and never accidentally badmouth someone who's great but annoys me.  Really, I do.  But I fail.  Instead, I'll work on it.  My goal:   become a freakin' saint.

So far, the fabulously dressed part has gone pretty well.  Thanks to those who gave me Nordstrom and Macy's gift certificates for my birthday and to Jennifer Bartels - my very first personal shopper who guided me through the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale and didn't even mind that I wasn't spending much money.  Between that and the Target clearance rack, I'm looking just fine.

The impeccable hair and makeup?  I had a meet and greet on Tuesday with Adam Handler, Deputy Director, Policy & Advocacy at CARE-USA.  We met for breakfast at Stepping Stone Cafe, whose motto is "You eat here because we let you."  It's a seriously accurate description of their service but I love this place nonetheless.  I would love it more if they actually refilled my coffee.  This was my first official function as a big time CARE lobbyist and, wouldn't you know it, was also Giant Zit Day.  So, to end my first post for my new blog - Just Another Do-Gooder Story, let me leave you with these inspiring words:  Never underestimate the power of Mac concealor.  That's what it takes to save the world.

Check back for daily posts about Do Gooders, make up tips and saving the world.

I want to win this thing

I've done a crazy thing.  I sent an audition video to the Oprah Winfrey Network to compete for my own talk show about women's health.  She with the  most votes on the website goes on to compete in a Mark Burnett reality show and eventually, someone wins her own show.  That really ought to be me.  Log on to this clip and vote, vote, vote.  Thanks y'all.

Jeanne's OWN audition

Inspired to Write about Optimism, Power to the Peaceful and CARE

Last week, I attended the Power to the Peaceful Festival in Golden Gate Park.  It was a festival of musicians, yoga practitioners and global humanitarians and activists who all see the potential for a world without poverty.  Crazy optimistic, right?  So true, so sincere and I'm willing to bank on it.  Michael Franti put the event together for the eleventh year in a row.  He started with a pre-September 11th vision of creating a massive party to celebrate global harmony and activism.  It has grown to be a major musical event and opportunity for those who also believe the time has come to create positive momentum in the world.  Franti has teamed up with Care - the global humanitarian organization that invented the Care Package back in WW2.  Now, they work with communities, focusing on women and girls, in 66 developing countries.  They work within cultures in countries that need help with infrastructure, healthcare, sanitation, hygiene, nutrition and education.  They're an up-and-up organization that I've spent the past year traveling with and writing about. I have a feature in the Aug/Sept issue of Fit Pregnancy magazine about work they're doing in Peru to improve maternal mortality.

I spent the weekend experiencing the festival and follow-up Care educational forum with a writer's eye.  I came home with dozens of ideas to write about.  Here are some of my favorite people/organizations who participated in the event:  Seane Corn - Off the Mat Into the World; Howard Schiffer - Vitamin Angels; Les Leventhal - Yoga and Recovery; Room to Read; Spark; and of course, my favorite - Care.  

I'm most optimistic about how many ways there are to help people who need what you have to offer.

Adventures of a Fortysomething: The Golden Rule of Marriage

"Originally published on MyRegence.com

Adventures of a Fortysomething: The Golden Rule of Marriage

      

You don't have to wrap yourself in cellophane to keep the marriage fresh.

   

by Jeanne Faulkner, Contributor

     

Jeanne Faulkner is a freelance writer and registered nurse in Portland, Ore. Her work appears regularly in Pregnancy and Fit Pregnancy, and she has contributed articles to the Oregonian, Better Homes & Gardens, Shape and other publications.

   

As I sit down to write my wisest advice for a long and happy marriage, all I can think of is fancy face creams, my pretty new bra and the dress I'm wearing tonight. Maybe I sound vain, but I prefer to think of myself as a smart married lady. My husband's hot. He's funny, good-looking, interesting, well-employed and a great father who totally gets my sense of humor.

Who would he rather be married to? The lady with the gorgeous dress, pretty skin and great looking underwear who happens to be taking him to the symphony tonight or the one slumped in front of television reruns, wearing Winnie-the-Pooh sweats, an old stretched-out bra and with skin that looks like leather? Hmm, tough choice. Would he rather be married to the happy, healthy, interesting and funny lady who's pretty darn delighted with herself or the one who's cranky, disappointed, boring, unhealthy and totally out of fashion? Hmm, again, I say, tough choice.

I'm not saying women should dress up in cellophane and greet their husbands at the door with Jell-O salad and a smile. (That's so environmentally incorrect. Try waxed paper instead and suspend some Twinkies and Pepperidge Farms goldfish in the Jell-O--a classic construction called "ships in the harbor.) Keep the smile, though. If you get home from work and your spouse is genuinely happy to see you, that makes for a happy marriage. If Jell-O's not your thing and you find waxed paper abrasive, here's my tip for a good marriage: Be the best person you can be. That includes your appearance, profession, hobbies, habits and attitude. Oh, and pick a really good partner. Then treat each other really, really well.

My husband and I were too young to get married and didn't do any of the things experts say you should before getting hitched. I was 21; he was 25. He was a musician and I wasn't sure what the heck I wanted to do. We didn't own a house, had not a nickel to our name and hadn't finished school. We never planned the future beyond "after you're a famous rock star and I'm whatever I'm going to be; let's travel the world then have some kids." We didn't talk about what we'd do with our money and keep separate accounts--mostly because we didn't have any money. We just tossed everything we had into one pot and scrambled.

Experts advise discussing parenting philosophies prior to marriage. Nope, not us. We were too busy avoiding pregnancy to plan one. We didn't put much thought into how we'd stay married. Instead we treated each other thoughtfully and pulled our own weight. The odds were against us for a long marriage, but maybe the odds had nothing to do with it. We loved each other, chose kindness and blundered along as best we could.

Looking back, we could be in the divorced half of marriage statistics instead of 26 years into this thing and pretty darn happy. As life happens and we all hit some of that "for better or worse" stuff, lots of couples fall apart. We got lucky and followed our own Golden Rule of Marriage: Treat each other as you'd like to be treated. I'd like to be treated with respect, supported and loved well by a totally hot man. Except for the "hot man" part, I'd bet my husband wants the same thing.

In surveying couples young and old on marriage advice, the older couples talked a lot about work; the younger couples about play. The newlyweds were dewy-eyed with good intention, and clearly hadn't been through many of life's rough spots yet, but their advice was solid: Have fun together, treat each other kindly, create special rituals, and be appreciative of each other. It's sweet.

The older couples, and I include myself in this category, have been through some tough times together. Really tough. Life and death, illness, money problems, raising children, depression, addiction, aging parents and more. You know … life, the stuff that takes the edge off all that fun and sweetness. But by following the Golden Rule, treating each other lovingly, respectfully and carefully, we hang in there. We try to be our best and treat our partners as if they're the most important person in our world. 'Cuz they are.

Marriage isn't for slackers. Nobody's saying you have to be fabulous all the time.  Sometimes I'm a mess. I wake up with raccoon eyes as often as not and get the flu as much as the next gal. Sometimes I can be a real--ahem--witch. I didn't have stretch marks and creaky knees when I was a newlywed. Heck, there was that whole year where I lost my hair and sparkling demeanor while we did time "in sickness and health." Still, if you make an effort to be your best and follow the Golden Rule, it evens out the odds.

All we can do is our best, right? If our spouse does the same, we get lucky. Those newlyweds with their brand-new marriage licenses have the right idea. Be kind to each other. Have fun. Try not to take things too seriously. Don't nag. And my tip: Wear your nice underwear, put on your pretty dress and take him out to play.

"Originally published on myRegence.com  

The Fortysomething Report: Internal Audit

Originally published on MyRegence.com

The Fortysomething Report: Internal Audit

      

Or, the hubby went in for a colonoscopy.

   

by Jeanne Faulkner, Contributor

     

Jeanne Faulkner is a freelance writer and registered nurse in Portland, Ore. Her work appears regularly in Pregnancy and Fit Pregnancy, and she has contributed articles to the Oregonian, Better Homes & Gardens, Shape and other magazines.

   

My husband had an ache that bothered him for weeks; it wandered from his upper to lower abdomen with a dull pain. No nausea, diarrhea or drama; just persistent pain. Like me, he's willing to sit on annoying symptoms for a while before getting them checked out. These things usually go away without the inconvenience of a doctor visit. But the pain wasn't going away, so he eventually went to our family physician. She poked him in the belly, ordered an ultrasound, and took a peek at his stomach, liver, kidneys and gall bladder. When that didn't show any specific problem, she recommended a CT scan if the pain continued. In the meantime, she announced, it was time for his first colonoscopy.

"Oh goody," he said. "I've been wondering when that would come my way.  Nothing says 'fun' like a tube up my bum." He didn't actually say "bum," but we're keeping it PG-13 here.

My husband's a bit over 50, and medical experts recommend colon screening for people in his age bracket. Apparently, the best way to avoid colon cancer (which I hear is way less fun than it sounds) is with colonoscopy. They snake a tube, a light and a microscope up your heinie and have a look-see. It's a bit like having Roto-Rooter clean your drain. If they find any polyps, they take them out before they turn into big nasty cancer. He's been a healthy guy and never had much call for medical care. As a matter of fact, this was his first real medical procedure. Oh, geez, I'm getting misty-eyed. My baby's first probe. I'm all verklempt.

As with all men, it took him awhile to drum up the courage to actually call the "butt clinic." No, he didn't actually call it a butt clinic but "A-- doc" is not family-friendly. After a bit of nagging (no surprise there), he finally scheduled a pre-procedure appointment with the gastroenterologist.

There's a bit of preparation that goes into getting a colonoscopy, or as my accountant-husband calls it, "an internal audit." The "getting to know you" appointment (where they kept him waiting in the lobby for over an hour) was with a nurse practitioner (NP). She gave him the drill on getting ready for his "thorough reaming." (Right--his words, not hers). After another 20 minutes in the exam room, the NP rattled off a to-do list of rectum-related rules and told him the scheduler would "be right in" to arrange the actual procedure. By this time, he was annoyed and running late. Fifteen minutes later, with no scheduler in sight, he walked out. An assistant apologized for the delay, but the scheduler was "busy." My husband said, "Me too--I've been here almost two hours for what amounted to a five-minute visit. Have her call me."

Oh, she called all right, leaving apologetic voice messages that he took his time returning.  Still fuming, he vented, "It burns my butt how they assume a patient's time isn't as valuable as their own. She could have mailed the instructions to me." Welcome to the medical world. I explained two probable reasons for the in-person appointment: 1) not every patient reads and follows directions--some need one-to-one instruction--and 2) now they can bill for two office visits, not one. "Great," he replied, "another way I'll be taking it in the shorts." No, he's not usually a curmudgeon; he just doesn't like having his time wasted or his plumbing professionally inspected.

It takes three days of dietary restrictions to thoroughly clean out the pipes. Day one eliminates all nuts, beans, seeds, fibers, hulls, and virtually everything we vegetarians eat. They want him spic-n-span in there so they can see everything clearly. It's a no BS procedure.

Day two is clear liquids only--broth, clear juice, Jell-O--that sort of thing. I've said it before: There's nothing as useless as a hungry man, and a full day with nothing but broth is bad news for everyone. He was a good sport, though, and didn't get his knickers into a big twist over it.

On colonoscopy-day, it's nothing by mouth except a gallon of laxative-laced liquid called "Golytely." Who are they kidding? You go like Niagra Falls. (Sorry, it's not a delicate situation.) Once you're done preparing for your intestinal interrogation, you're clean as a whistle inside and out.

The colonoscopy itself was no big deal. They gave him IV drugs and he slept through all the fun. When he woke up, he had no memory of the undignified event--and no discomfort either. There were, of course, jokes about needing a cigarette (no he doesn't smoke) and "wham, bam, thank you, Ma'am" (really, there's no better time to quote Bowie). The doc read his report in the recovery room, pronounced my husband's inner tubes healthy, and invited him back for a repeat performance in 10 years. Dopey as he was, my husband managed a little drug-induced humor.

"Gee, doc, it's been fun, but we'll see about another date. This one has been a pain in the a--." Originally published on MyRegence.com