So, the latest backlash against women is the recent article in Forbes.com proclaiming that men should not marry "career" women. (http://www.forbes.com/home/2006/08/23/Marriage-Careers-Divorce_cx_mn_land.html) While I was wondering aloud what exactly a "career woman" was, I read futher to find out it means any woman who works more than 35 hours a week and makes more than $30,000 a year. So technically, both before and after my divorce I wasn't a "career" woman (whew) - but heck, why did I end up in divorce court anyway? I'll tell you why. Because stupid generalizations like the ones stated in this article do nothing to help today's family. Being a stay-at-home mom working part time jobs to make ends meet didn't stop my husband from straying. Working part time jobs that kept my income under $30,000 only served to make me totally unprepared for the day I suddenly had to become the main breadwinner for my children and myself. And supporting my ex through school and helping him fulfill some of the duties of his "career" did nothing to help me prepare for the fast approaching "golden years."
It is very convenient for the "career" man to blame the collapse of his marriage on the fact that he married a "career" woman, but in reality, there is no such simple answer. Perhaps there should be more pre-marriage counseling - actual classes that address the realities of life once the glow of infatuation fades. Couples should know before they tie the knot what each other's expectations are for household responsibilities, child-rearing, even how to handle business trips and long work hours.
If this article is to be believed, then divorce should only be a problem for the upper middle class and above - and without a statisical expert sitting next to me, maybe that is true (but I doubt it), since the working poor, women AND men, don't have the luxury of deciding whether or not to marry a "career" person - they are just trying to survive. And that, in itself, is a career.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
A Sad Week for the Universe
There are two images I can’t get out of my head. The first involves the Disney character, Pluto. Suddenly, I am seeing him dressed like one of the Seven Dwarves, swinging a pick ax and singing “heigh ho, heigh ho, its off to work I go.” The second image is of the mythical god Pluto, straight off his gig in the underworld, standing on stage, doing Rodney Dangerfield’s trademark “I don’t get no respect” routine.
It’s been a sad week in the universe.
It’s been a sad week in the universe.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Life In My Skin
It’s back.
The first innocent looking bump appeared on my stomach, an itchy red mark that could easily be taken for a mosquito bite. But very soon it revealed itself for what it was, the beginning of another attack of a bizarre and uncomfortable blistery skin rash that I have been battling for 5 years. I’ve been to at least three dermatologists, several emergency room physicians, and have had three skin biopsies – all to no avail. It’s been guessed at being a systemic reaction to poison ivy, excessive reaction to flea bites, shingles of the eyelid, even the lovely parasite – scabies. Each diagnosis was wrong. I’ve been treated with cortisone creams of varying texture and strengths, some of which just made things worse. I’ve taken prednisone, which seemed to work, only to have the rash return, worse than ever, when the prednisone was stopped. Despite the warning that people with thyroid problems shouldn’t take it- I often must resort to Benadryl so I don’t scratch myself into a bloody pulp. I’ve been tested for lupus and celiac disease and had skin prick allergy tests. I’ve endured topical insecticides and bug bombs in my house. I’ve scoured the dog for nonexistent fleas. I’ve accused my family of leaving the doors open and letting in legions of mosquitoes that seem to only attack me. I’ve switched to hypoallergenic detergent and soap. None of this brings relief.
Each year, as warm weather approaches, I wonder if this will be the year I escape this agony. I avoid yard work, and my lawn shows it, but I am afraid there is something growing out there that hates me. I stay out of the sun, fearful that sunburn will only add more misery to my condition. Each fall, I celebrate the cooling temperatures, because it seems the only relief I get is when the temperature and humidity go down. Could it be as simple as heat intolerance? Do I need to move to Alaska, Siberia or Antarctica?
With my luck, I’d then develop an allergy to snow.
The first innocent looking bump appeared on my stomach, an itchy red mark that could easily be taken for a mosquito bite. But very soon it revealed itself for what it was, the beginning of another attack of a bizarre and uncomfortable blistery skin rash that I have been battling for 5 years. I’ve been to at least three dermatologists, several emergency room physicians, and have had three skin biopsies – all to no avail. It’s been guessed at being a systemic reaction to poison ivy, excessive reaction to flea bites, shingles of the eyelid, even the lovely parasite – scabies. Each diagnosis was wrong. I’ve been treated with cortisone creams of varying texture and strengths, some of which just made things worse. I’ve taken prednisone, which seemed to work, only to have the rash return, worse than ever, when the prednisone was stopped. Despite the warning that people with thyroid problems shouldn’t take it- I often must resort to Benadryl so I don’t scratch myself into a bloody pulp. I’ve been tested for lupus and celiac disease and had skin prick allergy tests. I’ve endured topical insecticides and bug bombs in my house. I’ve scoured the dog for nonexistent fleas. I’ve accused my family of leaving the doors open and letting in legions of mosquitoes that seem to only attack me. I’ve switched to hypoallergenic detergent and soap. None of this brings relief.
Each year, as warm weather approaches, I wonder if this will be the year I escape this agony. I avoid yard work, and my lawn shows it, but I am afraid there is something growing out there that hates me. I stay out of the sun, fearful that sunburn will only add more misery to my condition. Each fall, I celebrate the cooling temperatures, because it seems the only relief I get is when the temperature and humidity go down. Could it be as simple as heat intolerance? Do I need to move to Alaska, Siberia or Antarctica?
With my luck, I’d then develop an allergy to snow.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
HealthCare Rationing is a Reality
It started with HMOs — the rationing of medical care based on cost, and that old corporate stand-by — ROI (return on investment). If you can afford it, you can purchase any kind of medicine, operation or device that may or may not help your condition. No one questions you. However, be poor — or more commonly, middle-class with some sort of employer-provided health plan, and suddenly, you can find yourself in a medical version of Deal or No Deal, keeping what little you have and going with less costly treatment, or going for the whole expensive regimen which could ultimately bankrupt you and your family.
While the CNN article referred to below deals mostly with end-of-life issues, this is an issue that is much larger than that, and can affect whether or not you get the best drug for your heart condition, or a cheaper, less efficient substitute. It even means the difference between your child getting the lighter, waterproof Fiberglas cast on his broken arm, or the cheaper, heavier plaster version. It can mean not being able to remove a painful and troublesome gall bladder because the insurance company only pays if there are stones present. Recently, in reading the book "Marley and Me" I was aghast to find out that pain medication for women in labor is not always considered medically necessary — and that women being treated as "charity cases" don't get the epidurals and other pain meds that women with better insurance get.
I also read recently about a hospital association complaining that its member hospitals were not making their expected profit margins. How any health care facility (with the exception, perhaps, of Beverly Hills plastic surgery clinics) can even be run as a for profit entity offends me. Of course health care workers deserve a living wage just as much as the checker in Wal-Mart. So what is the answer? How can we, as a society, "level the playing field" when it comes to access to health care? I wish I knew. What I do know is that the system we have now doesn't work, and is getting worse.
Read about the high cost of end-of-life care on CNN: http://www.cnn.com/2006/HEALTH/08/15/spending.to.death.ap/index.html
While the CNN article referred to below deals mostly with end-of-life issues, this is an issue that is much larger than that, and can affect whether or not you get the best drug for your heart condition, or a cheaper, less efficient substitute. It even means the difference between your child getting the lighter, waterproof Fiberglas cast on his broken arm, or the cheaper, heavier plaster version. It can mean not being able to remove a painful and troublesome gall bladder because the insurance company only pays if there are stones present. Recently, in reading the book "Marley and Me" I was aghast to find out that pain medication for women in labor is not always considered medically necessary — and that women being treated as "charity cases" don't get the epidurals and other pain meds that women with better insurance get.
I also read recently about a hospital association complaining that its member hospitals were not making their expected profit margins. How any health care facility (with the exception, perhaps, of Beverly Hills plastic surgery clinics) can even be run as a for profit entity offends me. Of course health care workers deserve a living wage just as much as the checker in Wal-Mart. So what is the answer? How can we, as a society, "level the playing field" when it comes to access to health care? I wish I knew. What I do know is that the system we have now doesn't work, and is getting worse.
Read about the high cost of end-of-life care on CNN: http://www.cnn.com/2006/HEALTH/08/15/spending.to.death.ap/index.html
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