Contemplating My Navel

by Annie Anderson

22,995

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22,995

22,995 what?

This is the number of prescribed pills I have taken in the last 6 years and 22 days. This is not including any antibiotics for things, or multivitamins. Why so many? I have heart disease and as such have had heart surgery and now I take these medications three times a day to stabilize my heart’s electrical activity.

They are required to keep me safe and alive. I am grateful to them, but as I lay in bed last night, I realized I had forgotten to take my nighttime batch. I was frustrated and I didn’t want to have to get out of my nice warm bed to go get them. I texted my husband and he brought them in to me. Lazy, right? I prefer the word efficient, actually.

He brought them in and I could see 0.001% annoyance at my request. I commented that in the last six years I have maybe forgot them 6 times…..in 6,000 doses. 6,000 times so far I have opened the hatch and swallowed these life saving pills. Then I did the rest of the math and came up with 22,995 pills in total, and I still have another 56 years to go before I hit 100! That is another 160,000ish pills to go, barring any additions to my med list.

I shook my head and had a ten second long pity party at having to take them and then was grateful to have them as I rolled over and went to sleep.

Food for thought and the ripple effect

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Food for thought and the ripple effect.

Do you ever think about what is behind the scenes with the food that you eat, or the things you get to experience? I mean, to the subatomic particle type level of how it got to be in front of you at that moment?

Take a simple apple for example. If there was an apple sitting on the table in front of you, how much do you take for granted that you just get to simply eat that apple? Aside from all the aspects of being able to afford that apple, and the simplicity of there being an apple at your disposal to just go and buy. What, or more specifically who, do you need to thank for getting that apple to your table? Let’s work it backwards.

Did you buy the apple, or did your spouse or parent? They, or you made the trip to the store, after working enough time at a job they may or may not have enjoyed doing, to earn the money to buy it. They/you got up some morning, when you may or may not have had enough sleep the night before to feel cheerful about getting up when you did. You waited the two weeks after the payroll person processed your pay stub to get the money and then went to the store.

If you drove to the store, you needed the gas in the vehicle to get you there, and the person to deliver the gas to the pump; And the refinery person to even prepare the fuel to be ready for the delivery guy; and the rigger to drill for the gas etc…

There was a company somewhere that produced the shopping carts and baskets used in the store that you used to put your groceries in to bring to the till, and all those associated positions with the manufacturing of these carts and baskets.

The cashier who sold you the apple had to deal with the politics of their job enough to want to show up at their checkout that day, and then process your transaction.

The clerk who stocks the produce section had to unload the truck filled with fruit and put it out on display. The truck that delivered the fruit to that store employed someone who drove the fruit from the warehouse or maybe even airport to that store. Maybe that delivery driver is freshly back from being off on disability with a broken ankle and on that particular morning was still a bit tender, but he came back to work early anyway. The thought of staying home with a boss who thought they were milking the injury to get out of work was something they were tired of having to deal with.

Don’t forget the delivery driver from the farm who brought the crates of apple boxes in to the distribution warehouse. The night before his son was up all night sick from his infected tonsils..again. 11th infection in 18 months and his wife was working night shift so it was up to him to administer the Tylenol and Auralgam drops. He was so tired driving this load to work he almost didn’t see the kid on the bicycle before it was too late. Thankfully though, he did.

We then make our way down this chain to the farmer who grew the apples. His dad before him had the orchard, like his grandpa did before him. The expectation of carrying on the family business landed on his shoulders after his older brother was killed by a drunk driver 9 years ago. He didn’t have the heart to tell his dad he wanted to be a writer and live in New York wearing tweed coats with leather elbow patches in a loft in Soho. The closet thing he came to doing that was making up stories for his girls that he jotted down on napkins from the diner gas station in Violet Grove, where he stopped to pick up milk on his way home and had the occasional slice of pie.

This proverbial apple sitting in front of you now was even influenced by the farm maintenance man who noticed the back row of trees weren’t as big as the others. Once he fixed the tap and the water was flowing where it should, the apple trees caught up with the others nicely and thus this apple was created.

ALL of these people, and likely many that haven’t been listed here, helped shape the fact you have an apple in front of you to eat. This is only a small example of all the food you eat in only one given day. A food with only one ingredient in it. One with no manufacturing involved, or baking, or labelling or coming from another country to add to the growing list of people who contributed.

Just imagine for a moment all the things you eat in a day, and then a week and then a month and then a year. Kind of gives you some appreciation for all the people who contribute to what goes in your body each time you eat.

Keep it in mind as you chew and maybe have a moment of gratitude if you would, from time to time. Those good thoughts might one day add up to a shift in the world’s energy and help make the world a better place.

Now, go enjoy an apple!

We are on the way!

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How this got to be upside down I will never know… Still playing with this site… I was hoping to post the pic of us and our luggage at the airport entrance… Lol

Well, here we sit.  Gate C52….sucking up all the free charging we can before we board the red eye to Toronto.  Technically C53 is our gate, but we are being rebels and sitting one down so we all have a plug in.

Our drive up was as smooth as butter, and once our check in was sorted, (having wrestled with bags, extra check in charges, stickers where they shouldn’t be, oversized bags…even though they weren’t….) we had a yummy supper at Montana’s.

I had to yield my lighter as apparently it was the terrorist kind, so now when I bring out the candles I brought for Alynne’s birthday dessert, they will be unlit (until Lee saves me with his standard non terrorist lighter).

We found out our waitress wants to be a lion as her spirit animal, she believes 15% is an appropriate tip, and Ester from Air Canada is good at solving over charged baggage problems.  Once I explained SHE was THE person to help us out with a little problem we had, she did just that.  Badda bing, badda boom.

Another 90 minutes to go till we are airborne, so hopefully I can finger out why my keyboard isn’t working with this mini iPad.

Have a good sleep everyone as we fly back East to our next leg of this journey.

Be well.

Epilogue to it all…..

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Well, we are home from Africa.

Freezing to death any bugs I may have brought home with me…..

We are safe.

My kids were super surprised to see me come home early, and my family and friends were happy all was well.  There were some who were able to finally exhale once we got back….and some that didn’t even realize they were holding their breath.

I know that when I go away, especially to a non-traditional place-as I am prone to do it seems, there are those who are terrified beyond belief at my travels.  They are certain that when I go, I will end up dying at the hands of a madman, or end up in some terrible wreck, alone and suffering.  They try and convince me I shouldn’t go, and life is better when it is safer.

Obviously I disagree.  I keep going to these far away places, and talk about the wonders of what the world has to offer to everyone who wants to listen.  I am glad that I do, for unless someone can guarantee me something else, we only get one time around in this life.  There are so many things to see, do, smell, eat, experience, try, and take pictures of in this world, that I don’t want to limit myself to my own backyard.  I want to inspire others to go places and do things that they never felt quite brave enough to do, until they see that someone they know and love has done it….and survived!  I hope that I keep doing that for the next 43 years.

I have done a lot of reflecting on this journey, both in it’s planning, during the trip itself, and now upon my return.  I was unable to articulate to my husband why I wanted to go, and am forever grateful for his unwavering support even though he wasn’t sure it was a good idea.  He also didn’t understand why ten years ago I went to India before our son was born.  Going places where women aren’t highly regarded wasn’t a sane choice in his mind, and he still supported me in my journey then also.  He is a good man to do this, as I know many would not.

People are asking me how the trip was.  Was it everything I thought it would be?  Would I go again?  What was the best part?  What was the worst?

I think back to why I was going to start with.

I was compelled.  I cannot say why.  I am not a religious person, but I am spiritual.  There have been times in my life where I have been completely unable to anything other that what I have done.  I cannot explain it, I cannot articulate it other than a feeling of something greater than me compelling me to.  Not even after I have done these things have the reasons become clear always.  Sometimes yes.  Sometimes immediately.  Sometimes not for years, if ever to date.

I am not totally clear on the why yet either for this.  I have had some reflections though, and those I will share.

Immediately I am clear that I am more grateful for my life now.  For not only the things I have, but the people I share them with.  I am clear on the details that I seemed to have either taken for granted, or not really noticed.  Simple things like the number of freckles on my youngest son’s nose that add to his cuteness.  Larger things like a hot, hot shower and a wonderful home with my family.

I was struck by the contrast going from Canada to Ethiopia where they country is filled with people that are lean, and strong and absent of overweight people.  When we went to Malawi, the differences in people again was striking.  My preconceptions of what people “should” look like in Africa was shattered, and that I found surprising.   Coming back to Canada I was again shocked at how Canadians look in comparison to how they looked in my mind before it was opened just a little bit wider by the world.

Again, I was struck by the fact we are sooo lucky when it comes to our healthcare and our health in general.  How easy it is for us to take advantage of all we have in front of us, and how often we don’t.  When I say we, I don’t have a mouse in my pocket.  I mean we, as Canadians.  So often people will die for the lack of what we waste, and knowing this and acting on this are two different things.

I have also been wrestling with the thought that somehow I should feel guilty for what I have.  That I should pity those with less.  Why should I?  I have been angry at this thought, and had conversations in my mind with imaginary people as I play the devil’s advocate for all positions in this discussion.  The truth is there will always be people who have more than me in life.  There will always be those who have less.  Should I help those with less when I can?  Of course.  Should I feel guilty when I have more?  Absolutely not.  Unless it has come to me in less than an upstanding way, of course (which it hasn’t for the record).  I work hard.  My family works hard.  My friends work hard.  I know no one who has inherited or won by way of lottery massive riches that has brought their lives to a standard that is above most.  People who have what they have in their life have worked hard to get there.  That does not mean they should be ashamed of what they have earned or accomplished.  This also doesn’t make me any less happy that they have something I do not.

I think about the people in Africa and the abject poverty that they live in.  Some are very happy with how things are in their lives.  Some are not.  Some are working hard to change their situation, and others are content to stand on the corner, chewing hallucinogenic grasses, whiling away their days with less than others.  The saying that ignorance is bliss can also sometimes be applied.  I am not saying that in a rude way.  Ignorance is also bliss in the lives of those with much more than those at the poverty line.  I do not know what it is like to have a jet plane at my disposal, nor to have live in house-staff, or to have a different car for every day of the week in every city I own a home.  There are many people who have these lives, and I wish for them that they don’t look at people like me with pity that I only have a minivan to drive most days.  I wish for both them, and me, and those with less than me, that we are all able to find happiness in wherever we are in our lives.  It is often perspective only after all.  Many people who are rich are unhappy or wealthy but dying.  Many of those with less wouldn’t trade what they have because they are loving everything that is in their lives on a daily basis.

But, I digress again.  Back to Africa.  Did I enjoy it?  Yes.  Were there parts I didn’t enjoy?  Also, yes.  Was I surprised at certain things?  Absolutely.

I loved how proud the people there were, and how often they would give everything they had, even though it was not much.  I loved how appreciative they were of our time spent coming to see THEM.  I loved learning new ways to dance, and understanding better how they communicate, and being able to explain to others here that what they thought was being communicated, actually may have been something different.  I didn’t love the squat potties.  Let’s be honest.  It was nasty at times.  I was grateful for hand sanitizer.  I was grateful I don’t have to raise kids as a single parent living with HIV in a home smaller than my bathroom.

Also grateful for fresh fruit and vegetables that I can buy down the street from my home.

When asked if I would go back, I say that I would.  That being said though, there are many places I have not yet gone on an adventure to, and perhaps I would like to go places for a first time first, than go back somewhere for a second time.  I would like to go to Finland and see the Northern Lights with my Dad.  I would like to go to Churchill, Manitoba and see the polar bears walking down the street with my own eyes.  I would like to take our kids to Alaska and eat picnics along the way, and that is just the start of the list….

Everywhere I go in life I have the opportunity to learn about myself and to have the world opened up just a little bit more.  For this I am grateful, and for Africa I am also grateful.