Under Pressure

Some of you already know, but for the stray reader who happens upon this blog and doesn't, my teen aged daughter has been suffering from headaches for months. Actually, it's not "headaches" but one continuous headache that varies in intensity. I've said from the beginning that I thought it was because she was under pressure. She disagreed saying through clenched teeth, "I'm not stressed!" I reminded her of when it all began...soon after securing a role in her high school's production of Peter Pan.

It was her first speaking/singing/acting role and she loved every minute of it. Every minute included working til midnight in rehearsals most nights for about two months. Her days began at 5:45am. She attended two high schools. The first one is a Mass Communication center whose classes began at 7:15. After three classes she'd drive to the second school and closed off her day at around 3:30pm when she wasn't in the play. All her classes are Advanced Placement ones which means AP tests as well as SAT's. I noticed as her Spanish 4 grade began to plummet her headaches increased. Let it be known, I was not on her case about her grades. She was the one who insisted she needed a 4.0 and a high SAT score...both impossible to achieve with a constant mind-numbing headache.

To be on the safe side we made the round of doctors. First she saw an emergency doctor at her primary's office. She suggested her eyes needed to be checked. We did that. Nothing was wrong so we went back to her regular doctor. She suggested she get an MRI. Thankfully nothing major was wrong so we went back to her regular doctor. She suggested she see an ENT specialist. Nothing major was wrong so we went back to her regular doctor. She suggested we see a neurologist. The next available appointment was at the end of August. I hoped once school ended the pressure would be off and the headache would go away.

School ended, the pressure is off but the headache remained. So it was with great joy that I received a call from the neurologist's office yesterdy saying they had a cancellation today, asking if we wanted the appointment. Yes! After repeating her medical history for the umpteenth time, signing away my life, giving her what looked like a sobriety test as well as other balance tests he put his hands on the side of her face up by her jaw and pressed. "Does this hurt?" "Ouch!" And just like that he came up with the diagnosis...tension headaches.

Apparently she unconsciously is tensing her jaw and grinding her teeth while she sleeps. This action has caused the muscles to become sore radiating pain in her ears and through her head. She has to stay away from caffeine (she does love Mt. Dew) and gum, has to massage her jaw and slack it when she feels it tightening. He recommends a mouth guard for night and one pill a day for a month to relax her. He's so sure this is going to work that he doesn't even want a follow-up.

I feel positive this is going to work too. I know so many other teenagers that are going through the same thing as my daughter and it's from the pressure. It's tough being a teenager. The doctor said you wouldn't find this diagnosis or treatment many places (true, I've Googled her symptoms a million times) but it comes from his over 30 years experience. I told him I agreed with him that it was due to tension but would never have thought it was coming from her jaw muscles. He said, "Well, you haven't been practicing medicine as long as I have." I replied, "No, but I did stay in a Holiday Inn Express last night."

Fingers are crossed...

Here Come Da Judge

When I was growing up and heard the word "Judge" I felt no fear, actually I probably laughed as this is what came to my mind...



When the kids of today, especially in Roanoke County hear the word "Judge" followed by Trumpeter, this is how most of them react...



After my daughter and I spent two hours in his courtroom last Friday I really don't know why. Neither does she. No, she wasn't in any sort of trouble. It was actually a celebration of sorts as she, along with 60 other teenagers, received their permanent driver's license.

Virginia is the only state where it's mandatory for a new driver to go before a judge to receive their license. And it's not just mandatory for teens either -- their parent or guardian must attend the two hour "ceremony" as well. Before the parents are handed the license, yes the parents are the holder of the license and can only hand it over to their teen if they think their teen deserves it, the Judge talks to the crowded courtroom covering many areas that their driver's educational classes probably hadn't gone deep into.

Sure there was the usual what to do if you're stopped by a cop, but there was also so much more, including Virginia's three-strike and you lose your license rule, the prohibitive costs of speeding -- money-wise, point-wise, and losing license-wise, the illegality of texting or talking on the cell phone, and the deadly danger of driving after drinking.

The Judge related facts, figures and explanations of how even one beer affects judgment and the reason why. I was surprised to learn that the average age when boys have their first drink is 12 and girls is 13. The real shocker was that the parents are usually the ones who gave their kids their first drink. And worse, it's the parents that host the parties that allow the teens to drink.

What really got me tearing though was the personal story Judge Trumpeter relayed about the straight A, multi-talented high school sports star who by the age of 16 was secretly drinking and by the age of 18 was dead -- taking two innocent folks walking along the side of the road one Christmas Eve, with him.

At the end of the ceremony the bow-tied Judge called my daughter's name, handed me the license and thanked her for dressing up for court. He said he had an open door policy and his phone number was in the book if we ever needed to talk to him. I thanked him for showing he cared for the kids and told him, "I hope I never have to see you again."

After we left my daughter said, "I don't know why everyone freaks out when they hear Judge Trumpeter's name. I think he was quite an interesting character with his bow tie and Harry Potter glasses. I actually liked him. I guess I might feel different if I had to be in front of him because I was in trouble, and I don't have plans of that happening!"

I hope not. And to drive the issue home we spoke some more in depth about the privilege and dangers of driving. I remarked to the girl that I never want to be the answer to the question, "Who gave you your first drink?" She said I wouldn't be as she already had the answer. "Who?!" "A priest at church when he gave me a sip of wine at communion at grandpa's funeral. It was disgusting." Yes, it was.

And then when I got home I sat my son down and drilled into his head the same messages I had just heard. In between rolling of the eyes he said, "Mom, I know. I'm not a moron. It's not like I haven't already been faced with my friends drinking. I know how to say no, and I know how to take their keys away from them, and I have."

I told both of them, mistakes happen and if they ever found themselves in a "compromised position" whether it be them or their friends, they shouldn't hesitate to call me. I will come and get them immediately, no questions asked. There'd be plenty of time for repercussions later, and there would be. Personal responsibility is the only way to teach a teen that there are consequences to their actions, but first and foremost is the safety of them and others around them. If more parents would drive that message home to their children I think their children might give a little more thought to their actions.

The driver's license court ceremony is really a wonderful opportunity to begin a dialogue between parent and teen, and much more important for the parents who need to listen too, than the kids. Good luck to all the new drivers. Good luck to their parents too...

The Tiniest Bunny

Is this bunny not adorable? Look how tiny he is. I've never seen a bunny so tiny. He could fit in my palm. And he's not afraid of me either. He's too young to fear anything. What a wonderful feeling that must be...

Drop That Turtle!

As I was strolling along the trail in Garst Mill Park I came upon this little fellow...



I took the pic with my phone so it's not a good shot and you probably can't tell how big the turtle is, but he was a tiny little thing no larger than two or three inches. I had never seen a turtle in the creek at Garst Mill so was happy that there was a good possibility I would begin seeing a turtle family during my future strolls.

I continued walking to the end of the trail, looking forward to seeing the little guy again on my way back. When I did my turn-around to head back I saw a woman far ahead of me. She spotted the turtle too, but she did not leave him where he was. She stooped down and picked him up. Now, I know a little about having wild turtles as pets from years ago when my kids found two in our yard and decided to built an outdoor habitat for them. After researching it we realized it was not fair to Thunder and Lightning and the best thing we could do was put them exactly where we found them, facing the way they were headed. We never got the chance because they escaped and went on their merry way alone. We realized wild turtles do not make good pets so anytime we'd see one crossing the road, we would help them get across to safety, always facing the way they were heading.

Anyway, I stepped up my walk to a sprint to catch up with the woman who had picked up the little guy. Out of breath I caught her as she was talking on her cell phone in Chinese or Korean. I hoped she would understand when I said, "Miss, excuse me, but you really should put that turtle back where you found him. He's so tiny he needs his mother and if you don't he'll most likely die."

She gave me a dirty look and said, ok, ok. I continued my walk and then after a couple of seconds turned around to see if she had put the baby back. At first I couldn't see her but then noticed someone walking through the grass towards the parking area. It was her. She had something in her hand and I couldn't tell if it was a cell phone or the turtle. She got into her car and left.

I looked at the ground where the baby turtle was originally and didn't see him. I scoured the grassy path from where I had first seen him to where I had confronted the woman. Nothing. I can only hope she did put him down, somewhere in the grass and not in her pocket.

Chasing Wood Windmills

It's rare you'll encounter an "old" mechanic. Usually they'll "retire" way before they should because they have no choice. It's a hard field...hard on the bones...hard on the hands...hard to deal with so many morons, just kidding, no, I'm not.

As many of you know my husband is a mechanic, but he's always thinking about what he'll do next when he can't turn a wrench anymore. His preference would be to work with wood. He's very talented in that area, as he is in engine rebuilding, but woodworking is hard to "make a living" at.

But, he enjoys it so who am I to tell him he's chasing windmills? In this picture there are three things my husband has built from trunks of trees. The planter shelf is one...



The planter which is so heavy I cannot move it is another...



And the last is the birdhouse, which is really large enough to be a bird hotel.



He's pretty good at it. Too bad by the time he factors in his material costs and labor each project ends up costing him money.

Nacho Blogger Award

Over the last week Blogger has been riddled with problems. Today is the first day I can sign into my dashboard but only using Firefox and not Internet Explorer. When I tried signing in with IE it would take forever and then I'd get an error message saying the URI is too long. Clearly it's a problem with Blogger as others have experienced it as well. I've been following the "help" boards which Google and Blogger have chosen to ignore. Fellow bloggers have been able to help others with their suggestions, alas, it did not work for me. I think it's terrible that Blogger is announcing everything is back to normal when clearly it isn't.

I don't even care anymore as I don't have the same desire to blog as I've had over the years. Still, I'd like to be able to sign in now and then when the urge strikes without getting frustrated. For all the rants and raves I've written over the years I've decided I should receive an award so I proudly bestow upon myself the Nacho Blogger Award. Thank you, thank you.

Garst Mill Creek

I stumbled upon the "special effects" setting on my camera so went to town on the creek at Garst Mill Park in Roanoke County...