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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUERHs8fip7ImA9WhdVGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331</id><updated>2011-09-25T03:53:25.576-04:00</updated><category term="surgery" /><category term="family vacations" /><category term="spina bifida" /><category term="Well here goes nothing. independence" /><category term="shopping" /><category term="chores" /><category term="wound care" /><category term="college" /><category term="independence" /><category term="my new bedroom" /><category term="Well here goes nothing." /><category term="driving" /><category term="health" /><category term="chores mealtime" /><category term="employment" /><category term="car shopping" /><title>Bifida Babe</title><subtitle type="html">Just the day-to-day stuff I deal with ( and everyone else too ) but focusing how my disability causes issues for those simple tasks.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/BifidaBabe" /><feedburner:info uri="bifidababe" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>BifidaBabe</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MHRXs-eyp7ImA9WhdRGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-1335091575154223665</id><published>2011-06-28T19:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T18:37:14.553-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-09T18:37:14.553-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="surgery" /><title>surgery ( take 2)</title><content type="html">Well, I finally had my surgery. I was home for a week with a PICC line that my mother took care of. went back into the hospital and had the surgery. The day of the surgery I went down and the OR seemed so bright, I am so used to dark scary OR's. I saw all the team there Dr Felderman, Dr Garbus and others. They made sure they positioned me OK before putting me under. That was a breeze since I had my PICC line and they didn't have to go hunting for a vein. I woke up in recovery and went back to the room. I seemed pretty awake. Mom stayed with me on a chair in the room 24/7. II was there another week, half the time still on a liquid diet (UGH). Since the surgery I had mucous in my throat that I couldn't cough up because of my stitches. I felt like I was choking and the nurse called in the Respiratory team who tried to put a tube down my nose into my throat; That didn't go over very well, ...I couldn't stop gagging and finally the guy gave up. Eventually I went to sleep and the next day one of the nurses came in and was coaching me on coughing. I went home. I came home and still couldn’t go back to work.I missed the end of the school year and feel really bummed about it. It still doesn’t feel like summer time to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-1335091575154223665?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i_ZKZ_mxis0jDxKBOS-EsxjtotE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i_ZKZ_mxis0jDxKBOS-EsxjtotE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/-oBIysQg_kQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/1335091575154223665/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=1335091575154223665" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1335091575154223665?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1335091575154223665?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/-oBIysQg_kQ/surgery-take-2.html" title="surgery ( take 2)" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2011/06/surgery-take-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcCSH8-eyp7ImA9WhZUE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-1692465509338179090</id><published>2011-06-05T14:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T14:54:29.153-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-05T14:54:29.153-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wound care" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><title>another surgery!</title><content type="html">Well, Something has happened that hasn't happened since 1997.... I am Hospital bound!!! I went to the doctor on a Wednesday&amp;nbsp;for a nasty Bladder infection ( very common in those with Spina Bifida) and when he catheterized me he&amp;nbsp; didn't like what he saw so he sent me to see a Colo-Rectal specialist the next day. when&amp;nbsp;I got to the Colo-rectal &amp;nbsp;Doctor ( who by the way is very cute) he said he was admitting me to the hospital. --RIGHT FROM THE OFFICE!! So last Thursday I found myself in Winthrop, on a liquid diet,&amp;nbsp;Pending surgery a week later. I had to go to Radiology and get a PICC line put in . the procedure wasn't that bad and now i don't need to be poked with needles, everything goes into the port ( Well, ALMOST everything, I still&amp;nbsp;need finger pricks for blood&amp;nbsp;sugars and shots in the tummy for anti clotting meds)&amp;nbsp;well, the&amp;nbsp;morning of the surgery came and next thing&amp;nbsp;I know my doctor came in to say the surgery was postponed...TILL NEXT WEEK!!!&amp;nbsp; So I am home now till next week, So much for EMERGENCY surgery!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-1692465509338179090?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kCO-6mBwlB--5XN4DgjToRNnQz4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kCO-6mBwlB--5XN4DgjToRNnQz4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/M9wAqTx3u7U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/1692465509338179090/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=1692465509338179090" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1692465509338179090?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1692465509338179090?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/M9wAqTx3u7U/another-surgery.html" title="another surgery!" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2011/06/another-surgery.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcMSXo6eCp7ImA9WhZaFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-8727377031667756190</id><published>2011-04-09T17:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T18:34:48.410-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-02T18:34:48.410-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="my new bedroom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chores" /><title>Doin' the Laundry</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;well&amp;nbsp;I didn't realize how long it's been since I've blogged about my new surroundings.&amp;nbsp; I am actually a pro at the laundry now!! I've done lots of successful loads. -- Dark, white, stain removal, folded, put back into draws. etc!!! Wish I had made a bet with my family, as to if I was goimg to follow through,.....I'd be rich!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-8727377031667756190?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3nH9SZIaP2pIQrYvn7CFlcnlOnk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3nH9SZIaP2pIQrYvn7CFlcnlOnk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/Y_tfpsZyq_M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/8727377031667756190/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=8727377031667756190" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8727377031667756190?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8727377031667756190?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/Y_tfpsZyq_M/doin-laundry.html" title="Doin' the Laundry" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2011/04/doin-laundry.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYGQn47fip7ImA9Wx9VEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-1740456971581344186</id><published>2011-01-27T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T17:25:23.006-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-27T17:25:23.006-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chores" /><title>My New Bedroom and washer/dryer</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;been sleeping in my room now for a month. a few weeks ago Joe set up my washer/dryer the day before he had to go on a trip. well, mom and I were alone in the house and decided to try it out. we ( I ) put the clothes in and the soap, shut the door turned the dials and proceeded to go into the kitchen to eat dinner. when all of a sudden we heard this loud BANGING!!! We went into the room and saw the washer/dryer going crazy swaying back and forth and actually moving across the room ( I thought this stuff only happened on cheezy '70's sitcom &amp;nbsp;episodes )&amp;nbsp; we rebalanced the clothes and shut the door. a few minutes later the same thing happened, so mom ended up&amp;nbsp;finishing&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;the clothes&amp;nbsp; down the basement. now we just have to wait for Joe to get home to see what the heck happened!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-1740456971581344186?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4PBRLvWSNttmO1jA25YINC9j8MA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4PBRLvWSNttmO1jA25YINC9j8MA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/cOiHKTP_kYw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/1740456971581344186/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=1740456971581344186" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1740456971581344186?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1740456971581344186?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/cOiHKTP_kYw/my-new-bedroom-and-washerdryer.html" title="My New Bedroom and washer/dryer" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-new-bedroom-and-washerdryer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08HQn09fSp7ImA9Wx9XFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-179449755857025810</id><published>2010-12-29T14:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T18:30:33.365-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-09T18:30:33.365-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="my new bedroom" /><title>My New Bedroom Christmas Day</title><content type="html">Woke up in my new bedroom Christmas morning. I'm not used to all the windows so it was very bright. But very cozy. went into the new big bathroom and into the shower; It was so easy!! The inspector came and gave a thumbs up to everything... except the ramp ( which we have had for 17 YEARS!!!)&amp;nbsp; he said the new code calls for a metal railing to go along the ramp and steps. So Joe went out and bought the necessary materials. ( complying to NYC code!) it was huge metal piping, not very decorative. I didn't mind but&amp;nbsp;I thought mom was going to have a stroke. but, when they saw how easy it was for me to ascend the stairs she accepted it. so all that was left was to wait for the inspector... again!!&lt;br /&gt;
The inspector came for the second time and we were all set for him to approve the railing. when he left the house he called Joe and UGH!!! the railing has to go along the WHOLE deck not just the steps. so we are still not approved. Update to come!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-179449755857025810?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/haSSEo3yEv7bSIuX2oyso2GibWE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/haSSEo3yEv7bSIuX2oyso2GibWE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/2y0hLvSBAoU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/179449755857025810/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=179449755857025810" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/179449755857025810?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/179449755857025810?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/2y0hLvSBAoU/my-new-bedroom-christmas-day.html" title="My New Bedroom Christmas Day" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-new-bedroom-christmas-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYMQ3kzfCp7ImA9Wx9QFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-913152651079335149</id><published>2010-12-18T20:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T14:49:42.784-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-29T14:49:42.784-05:00</app:edited><title>My New Bedroom</title><content type="html">Well, it's finally here, tonight I will be sleeping in my new bedroom.&amp;nbsp; -- let me start from the beginning. The whole venture started over the summer, I wanted to expand my bathroom to be wheelchair accessible and we decided to add on to my bedroom as a whole-10 feet to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;The first thing we did was get a contractor, my neighbor's relative.Then we needed a plumber, so we asked my uncle who's good friend, Jay,&amp;nbsp;is a plumber, but he couldn't do the work, so he brought in someone else and he would consult.-- Here is a small world story, The partner is the uncle of&amp;nbsp; one of my friends from the Spina&amp;nbsp;Bifida clinic who I have recently got in touch with trough Facebook!!&amp;nbsp;Well, my friend and i had a laugh over that. Unfortunately, he didn't work out and we had to get another plumber.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-913152651079335149?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1DYHY4nzuAbBsgNkd8bDeQ2yIhs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1DYHY4nzuAbBsgNkd8bDeQ2yIhs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/P8RPJSsRwXI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/913152651079335149/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=913152651079335149" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/913152651079335149?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/913152651079335149?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/P8RPJSsRwXI/my-new-bedroom.html" title="My New Bedroom" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-new-bedroom.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIFQHg6fSp7ImA9Wx9REUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-8335166338120324881</id><published>2010-12-12T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T16:48:31.615-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-12T16:48:31.615-05:00</app:edited><title>My New Bedroom (Part II)</title><content type="html">This past weekend the contractors have been putting in my bathroom: On Saturday at dinner, Mom asked me about where to put grab bars and&amp;nbsp;brought me into the room which has the sink toilet and shower pan already installed along with the tile. We needed now to place grab bars for when i am maneuvering from the sink to toilet to the shower and also to my new washer/dryer. so she had me going through the motions and, as usual, we had a little... SARCASTIC FOR&lt;em&gt; ...HUGE...;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;tiff. She would ask me the same question over and OVER!! Frustrated, I said ' exactly what answer to you want me to give.' (OK wrong thing to say&amp;nbsp; guess ) she stormed out and that was the end of the bathroom venture for the night. &amp;nbsp;I went into the kitchen and the table was not cleaned off but I said to myself ( If i clean it off she'll comment, so the heck with it ) and of course she came out and said&amp;nbsp; 'So you couldn't even clear the table' -( Damned if I do, Damned if I don't). We went to bed in a huff. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Sunday morning we woke up and made up. I took a shower , had breakfast and Mom, Joe and Myself went into the room to figure out the grab bar situation,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-8335166338120324881?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-vStF7Of8sIjcrGSjTbInYxDjQE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-vStF7Of8sIjcrGSjTbInYxDjQE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/T3_5MTQ9ycs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/8335166338120324881/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=8335166338120324881" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8335166338120324881?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8335166338120324881?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/T3_5MTQ9ycs/my-new-bedroom-part-ii.html" title="My New Bedroom (Part II)" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-new-bedroom-part-ii.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQHSHg4eSp7ImA9Wx9REE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-8030488313974005585</id><published>2010-12-10T20:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T20:52:19.631-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-10T20:52:19.631-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><title>My New Bedroom/sitting room</title><content type="html">Well, it's Friday and&amp;nbsp;the time is almost here the room is DONE.!!!!!! all that Is left is some touch up painting ( Mom's in there as I write) and to get all my furniture back in the room!! tomorrow I will go down the basement where my stuff has been stored and go through it and &lt;em&gt;TRY&lt;/em&gt; to purge some stuff I don't need ( wish me luck I am never really good at getting rid of stuff!!) Mom says that I should be sleeping in my room Saturday night!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-8030488313974005585?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CvD5ubbyBAvSOZ301_xs38VwoZw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CvD5ubbyBAvSOZ301_xs38VwoZw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/bv-WKrA-vUc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/8030488313974005585/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=8030488313974005585" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8030488313974005585?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8030488313974005585?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/bv-WKrA-vUc/my-new-bedroomsitting-room.html" title="My New Bedroom/sitting room" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-new-bedroomsitting-room.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcBR3w5fCp7ImA9Wx9REE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-4054230619731347823</id><published>2010-11-20T19:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T20:47:36.224-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-10T20:47:36.224-05:00</app:edited><title>My new Bedroom-- First Installment of more to come</title><content type="html">Well,today the painters are here. They are painting the walls of my new bigger Bedroom. Tan and Shark (blue) I just went to see the progress and it is beautiful! Let me backtrack…. I thought I started this entry when I began this venture, but apparently not, so I have a lot of ground to cover &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
. Over the summer, I decided to expand my bedroom into a sitting area since this is where I spend most of my time (other than times like now when I am on the computer playing games, and writing my blog).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Throughout this ordeal I have moved temporarily into the back spare bedroom, I thought it was going to be a nuisance but the bed is SOOO COMFORTABLE, even more than my day bed. Mom said it's because there is a board between the box spring and mattress, so she said Joe will put a board in my bed if I want (and I DO!) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The First thing I picked out was my floor; I went with my Aunt Patti and my mother to G Fried Carpet. and met a salesperson I can't remember his name I just recall he was a Yankee fan and the Yankees were playing that night so he and my Aunt ( another staunch Yankee fan) were chatting away about the game and the players ( HO!HUM!) The walls were filled from top to bottom with samples. I told him I needed a floor that had good traction and one that wouldn't scuff, since I sometimes use my wheelchair in the house. That narrowed it down to a reasonable amount. I started to pick out tiles and --You guessed it,-- Mom found something wrong with EVERY choice I made; the first one I picked and loved Mom said that it had a pattern in it, and it would drive me nuts when it was down. after biting my tongue, I picked 4 samples, gave a deposit and took them home - One was too white, I said it made my room look like an examination room in a doctors office, and another, which I really liked, Mom said it had a color in it that would clash if I wanted to change my color scheme, even though to me it looked neutral. (The HS Art major strikes again).In the end I ended up with my original pick. (Score 1 for me) &lt;br /&gt;
Next stop, Blackman, a bathroom showcase place where I saw many bathrooms set up, again nothing struck me right away. The place was HUGE! There I picked out a sink. and toilet: I saw a shower from a vendor in my book from the Abilities Expo, but It was a one piece pre fabricated and the material seemed slippery so I bought three pieces separate; a shower pan, shower chair and a hand shower. the contractors ( a neighbor's cousin and his son) have been working diligently to get my room framed out. and finally finished that, the spackler was here and took two days. and boy did my room finally look like a room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-4054230619731347823?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dls4O4FGa6SI8DOLn_6z4AidkQg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dls4O4FGa6SI8DOLn_6z4AidkQg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/XAKHuTWtkZE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/4054230619731347823/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=4054230619731347823" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4054230619731347823?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4054230619731347823?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/XAKHuTWtkZE/my-new-bedroom-first-installment-of.html" title="My new Bedroom-- First Installment of more to come" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-new-bedroom-first-installment-of.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8MQ3o-fCp7ImA9Wx5UE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-541880117940426992</id><published>2010-08-03T13:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T17:28:02.454-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-17T17:28:02.454-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family vacations" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><title>My summer Florida Vacation</title><content type="html">The first week of July, Mom and I did what we've been doing for the past few summers; packed up and took a&amp;nbsp;off for Florida with my Aunt Patti.We got there on July 6th; Patti stayed for 5 days and in that time we swam in the pool,.went to her in-laws for a visit .and our cousins' kids and grandkids came. We went to Hollywood beach and&amp;nbsp; rented one of those terrific beach wheelchairs, all we had to do was show a license. (you can even buy one&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;from &lt;a href="http://www.wheeleez.com/"&gt;http://www.wheeleez.com/&lt;/a&gt; ). Mom and Patti wheeled me right down to the water, and I&amp;nbsp;went in;. the waves were amazing; mom and Patti were holding on to me for dear life,&amp;nbsp;Had fun but lost a pair of earrings in the process. On another day, Mom and I took Auntie to 'Le Tub' a fantastic hamburger place near the water. we got a table in the back and the waitress asked us if we wanted bug spray... after a while we took her up on the offer it was very buggy (guess the flies like the burgers too!!). The hamburgers were delicious, but that's not all we were treated too, while looking out at the water we started to see what looked like&amp;nbsp;air bubbles from fish; everyone got up from their seats too look out; It turned out to be ...MANATEES!! Our waitress said she's been working there for more than 10 years and this was the First time she saw a Manatee!!! HOW EXCITING!!Patti left and we stayed for another 2 weeks, at first we felt homesick but we stayed, and got down to business decorating our condo.First up was&amp;nbsp; my room; I&amp;nbsp;had to do something with nanny's old furniture. We realized we couldn't get rid of it, so we did the next best thing... Changed the draw pulls; and boy did that change the look &lt;em&gt;completely&lt;/em&gt; from 'Nanny old-fashioned' to 'Lisa Modern'. Then we (Read: 'mom') made new&amp;nbsp;slipcovers for the living room couch throw pillows. and, finally, what we have set out to do for the last few trips down....Put a fresh coat of paint and went to the store and bought new chairs and cushions for the lanai, AAAHHH beautiful......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-541880117940426992?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/33L_HSL88-MXjL4BlmuBMvOxtUg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/33L_HSL88-MXjL4BlmuBMvOxtUg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/6PiGLAz5ImM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/541880117940426992/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=541880117940426992" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/541880117940426992?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/541880117940426992?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/6PiGLAz5ImM/my-summer-florida-vacation.html" title="My summer Florida Vacation" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-summer-florida-vacation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUEQXc8cCp7ImA9WxFWE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-1161183891511835855</id><published>2010-05-31T16:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T16:20:00.978-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-31T16:20:00.978-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="driving" /><title>Runnin' on empty</title><content type="html">&amp;nbsp; OK, so&amp;nbsp;the other day&amp;nbsp;I went to work and after had to go to a union meeting. when I got to there,&amp;nbsp;I looked at my gas gauge and I saw that it only had 4 dots!!&amp;nbsp; this is how I judge whether or not to get gas, mom and I figured out that each dot is a gallon-- anyway,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I had all&amp;nbsp; intentions of going home after the meeting&amp;nbsp;and telling my mother but of course I got side-tracked and forgot!! well, the next morning mom went out to turn my car around (17 years experience and&amp;nbsp;I still can't back out of&amp;nbsp;our driveway) and she noticed that my gas was low.&amp;nbsp; i said that i meant to tell her and forgot. She said not to worry that i had enough to get to work and she'd get me gas when I got home; So off to work I went.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Well, I got as far as the turn before Motor Parkway and panic set in, . Now, I don't know how many of you have noticed in your travels, but there are not many Full Service gas stations around these days, so when I saw a one I decided it's now or never and turned off the Service Road to get gas. So I'm sitting outside in my car and not an attendant to be found, so I had to ask someone heading in to the store to get one for me, and he so nicely informed me that this was a self serve island. So I had to go through the edited version of how&amp;nbsp;a disabled individual can get their gas pumped at a self serve price. Anyway the man finally came out and of course I&amp;nbsp;was parked in front of a pump that was out of order, so&amp;nbsp;I had&amp;nbsp;to maneuver to another pump --back up turn the wheeel, pull forward .!.repeat!( this was an interesting experience) I got the gas, called work to say&amp;nbsp;I may be&amp;nbsp;late,&amp;nbsp;and was on my way. No sooner was I on the main road&amp;nbsp; did I realize my trunk was open. ( I did this when trying to open the gas tank.!)&amp;nbsp;not to panic&amp;nbsp;up ahead at a red light&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I saw construction workers; I rolled down my window and asked the guy to close my trunk. then proceeded. Well, I got to work with time to spare, and called my mom and told her about my experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-1161183891511835855?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UqBsIBTENp_irSWH65WHOmfbVkk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UqBsIBTENp_irSWH65WHOmfbVkk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/z0_aPPdCmto" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/1161183891511835855/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=1161183891511835855" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1161183891511835855?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1161183891511835855?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/z0_aPPdCmto/runnin-on-empty.html" title="Runnin' on empty" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/05/runnin-on-empty.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYMSHY5cSp7ImA9WxFQFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-4341177109347413442</id><published>2010-05-09T16:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T16:49:49.829-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-09T16:49:49.829-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="independence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shopping" /><title>A day out Shopping --(WITHOUT my mother)</title><content type="html">Last weekend,&amp;nbsp; my mom and Joe were doing yard work to prepare for the upcoming Mother's Day Brunch, my aunt called me up and asked me if I wanted to go to the movies&amp;nbsp; or just take a ride around&amp;nbsp;since it was such a beautiful day; after thinking I said let's take a ride. When in the car, I remembered that I needed new sneakers for the summer so&amp;nbsp;we decided to go out&amp;nbsp;east&amp;nbsp;to Tanger Outlets in Riverhead where they have SAS shoes.. this store is good because it carries shoes in wide widths ( DOUBLE wide to be exact) and they supposedly came out with a new sneaker. So Aunt Patti and&amp;nbsp;I went inside and it was very busy.&amp;nbsp; I asked about the new sneakers and&amp;nbsp;the sales person&amp;nbsp;measured my feet and brought a pair out.I put them on my feet(after a bit of a tug-of-war with a shoehorn and the sales lady), got up out of the chair and walked around when I looked in the mirror, my feet looked &lt;em&gt;HUGE &lt;/em&gt;, (and not in a good way)I didn't want to make a rash decision so I walked up and down the store for a while, but in the end I wasn't too crazy about them. That is when the lady said that she had the same pair of shoes I had on-- SAS Free Time-- in White ( the pair I had on were beige.) so she went to get them. I put them on and, again, walked around the store, looking in&amp;nbsp;the mirror... I loved them .A white shoe that had support and looked like a summer sneaker; a win!!... I thought. I turned to my aunt and said I like them but,&amp;nbsp; I can hear my mother now saying &lt;span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"&gt;'why did you get another pair of shoes? I told you to buy sneakers.'&lt;/span&gt; well, my aunt said she liked them, and I should make my own decision. (Imagine that make my&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;own&lt;/em&gt; decision at ONLY 44 years old ,lol!).&amp;nbsp;So I bought them and out the door I went. When in the car driving home my cell rang and it was my mother I told her that we went to the outlets and without asking me she said "Oh, I wish I'd known, you could've bought your sneakers there"&amp;nbsp; and I said " year it's too bad... oh well- (WINK WINK) when i hung up&amp;nbsp;I told My Aunt what she said and we both laughed.Then we decided to get an ice cream at Friendly's and while we were there I bought a Chicken Caesar Salad since Mom said she didn't know what to make for dinner. On the way home my aunt wanted to stop at a farm stand to get fresh eggplant, we stopped at two before a farmer said they were not in season (BUMMER). so we just drove back to my place. I said to my aunt,&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;'Don't mention my new sneakers see if my mother notices them'. When we got back to my place Mom and Joe&amp;nbsp;were working in the back yard I called her over and started talking seeing if she'd notice. she didn't, so I pointed them out and, wouldn't you know it, my Mother had a hissy fit!!!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;WHY DID YOU BUY THOSE?? &amp;nbsp;YOU HAVE A PAIR ALREADY!!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;'I tried to explain that I tried on the sneakers but they didn't look good,and that the shoes&amp;nbsp;were different. because they were white. She wasn't buying that and said &lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;now we have to go all the way back to Riverhead&amp;nbsp;to return them and get the '&lt;em&gt;RIGHT ONES'&lt;/em&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt; I just looked at my aunt who tried to stick up for me but to no avail and rolled my eyes. we said goodbye and she took off.-- with my wheelchair still &amp;nbsp;in her trunk--&amp;nbsp; so she turned around and came back and talked with my mother, I decided not to stick around and went into the computer room. a little while later mom came in and looked at my shoes and said 'Oh wow they ARE white' ....DUH!... and did her nervous giggle .When I said 'now do you feel dumb yelling?',she started to make up some story that she&amp;nbsp;really believed that &amp;nbsp;I was joking and I had my same shoes on that&amp;nbsp;I &amp;nbsp;left with and that she was playing along she would've &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; yelled at me if she thought i was serious (Yeah right!!) Well,&amp;nbsp;in the end we made up as we usually do after the scolding and everything is back to normal!! Can't wait until the next outing!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-4341177109347413442?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bD6-hertEeK5jV5OSSzbVvmwPgo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bD6-hertEeK5jV5OSSzbVvmwPgo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bD6-hertEeK5jV5OSSzbVvmwPgo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bD6-hertEeK5jV5OSSzbVvmwPgo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/ZdvnOfsRVfU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/4341177109347413442/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=4341177109347413442" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4341177109347413442?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4341177109347413442?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/ZdvnOfsRVfU/day-out-shopping-without-my-mother.html" title="A day out Shopping --(WITHOUT my mother)" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-out-shopping-without-my-mother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcERnY-eSp7ImA9WxFRE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-4262804823490742322</id><published>2010-04-26T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T17:40:07.851-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-26T17:40:07.851-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><title>It's a crappy job but someone's gotta do it</title><content type="html">I don't want to alarm anyone I just want to share my experiences. I have never been regular from 'Day 1' . I was mostly constipated. i was on everything imaginable ( senokot, citric of magnesia, suppositories, senna tea) nothing worked. when i was 14 i went to a school where my nerves were shot, I started having like a colitis. and one day found myself in the girl's room crying because my bowels let loose big time. when i started to try daily laxatives, i could not hold my bowels and I would go anywhere at any time. i Didn't have any sort of regular routine. then in 1987 when i started work, i I would use a laxative on the weekends. i still had some acidents during the week in the beginning. but now, 22 years of persistence later, what i do is take a combination of laxatives ( what i affectionately call my 'BOMB') on friday or saturday night, It works me through the night and most of the next day. I don't make any plans for that day but it is worth it. It cleans me out enough that i can go the whole week without an accident and my body is so used to it now that i don't feel sick and I can go to work without any worry. this solution is not for everyone, but it works for me!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-4262804823490742322?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wyZckBaVAZ7H1X4v1KgxIa4qCJs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wyZckBaVAZ7H1X4v1KgxIa4qCJs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/rACBb0qlf7U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/4262804823490742322/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=4262804823490742322" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4262804823490742322?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4262804823490742322?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/rACBb0qlf7U/its-crappy-job-but-someones-gotta-do-it.html" title="It's a crappy job but someone's gotta do it" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-crappy-job-but-someones-gotta-do-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYMQnk_fip7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-8052024426401708391</id><published>2009-10-18T14:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:43:03.746-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:43:03.746-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Well here goes nothing. independence" /><title>Home Alone--- Sorta</title><content type="html">Well, let's talk about the past week.&lt;br /&gt;
On Monday, Columbus Day, My Mom and Joe took off for Florida for an 8 day vacation, So Grandma is staying at my house with me for the duration. I can do most tasks by myself, but I still need that occassional assistance. It's not enough assistance to require paying for a home health aide, but enough to warrant someone stay in the house with me, mostly during the night and the morning hours getting ready for work. Some of those things are: being around when I am taking a shower in the a.m.( just in case I channel the &lt;span style="color: #009900;"&gt;'I've fallen and I can't get up' &lt;/span&gt;lady), and helping me to and from my car just in case the weather is bad, Sometimes even driving me, Not because I am afraid to drive in bad weather- I am just as good/bad as the next guy on the road- It's when I get out of the car into the elements that the issues usually start; Putting my crutch down on an icy patch or a wet floor, &lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;and &lt;em&gt;walking against the wind!&lt;/em&gt;(&lt;/span&gt; if a stranger saw me walking into the building with my belongings- Pocketbook, lunch bag and backpack- against even the mildest wind and rain, They'd swear I was drunk! ) Anyway, back to the week-- The first few days were o.k. because I had work to take up much of the day but the weekend gets kinda nuts, you see I like to be by myself; hang out on the'puter and watch the 'tele' but people feel I need to be entertained. I rarely get phone calls from relatives, but as soon as Mom is away it's: ' wanna go to a movie?', 'to dinner?,' How 'bout I come over and watch tv?'. Don't get me wrong I like the people offering but i'd just as soon stay home alone with my thoughts. So far so good, last night I did my Weekend ritual for my bowels and I haven't had any problems-YET! Not that I plan on having any, but it's always in the back of my mind. Mom always did the major clean ups and I don't want gram to have to so I'm doing the best I can. grandma feels when I go to do something myself It's because I don't want her to do it. that's not totally true, I just want to see how much I can do myself before I ask, and so far so good!! Anyway that's all I have for now I am about to play cards with Gram. She keeps beating me!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-8052024426401708391?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hz12rUkL0n6FFqnJZbppii6L7So/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hz12rUkL0n6FFqnJZbppii6L7So/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/RC-pKt-iUPE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/8052024426401708391/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=8052024426401708391" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8052024426401708391?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/8052024426401708391?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/RC-pKt-iUPE/home-alone-sorta.html" title="Home Alone--- Sorta" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/10/home-alone-sorta.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08ERn49fyp7ImA9WxBbFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-4978764729141786490</id><published>2009-09-12T14:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:36:47.067-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:36:47.067-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="employment" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="college" /><title>first week of work</title><content type="html">Well, just finished my first 2 weeks of work after a&lt;em&gt; short, little&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;10 week vacation&lt;/span&gt;!! (&lt;span style="color: #ff6600;"&gt; Insert pity remarks here-- lol!!&lt;/span&gt; ) It went well. I went off to work with 2 new items: my new car and my new &lt;em&gt;frameless&lt;/em&gt; eyeglasses. Nobody commented on my new car, which I understand since nobody saw me drive up in it how can they know who it belongs to? But after going through the whole week talking to and having lunch with my coworkers, only FOUR people noticed my glasses! Could it be the fact that I'm only 4'9" and the ones who noticed were the select few who share my..&lt;em&gt;ahem..&lt;/em&gt; 'point of view' (literally)?? &lt;em&gt;Maybe. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It's nice being back into a routine. You see, if I don't have anything scheduled to do, I usually don't do &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt;. I'm not one to initiate visitations with friends; I guess I always think that if they wanted to be with me, THEY would've called ME ( stupid I know, but that's what i think, ...&lt;em&gt;I THINK) lol&lt;/em&gt; and I'm not one to sporadically get into the car and drive to the park, beach or anywhere where alone just for the heck of it. when I go places I like to be with people. If I want to be alone I'd just... stay home.&lt;br /&gt;
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I've had this job since 1987, I kinda fell into it. You see, I had been going to college. I graduated SUNY Farmingdale with a 2-year degree in Early Childhood Education, then I transferred to SUNY Old Westbury with intentions of taking Mathematics for teaching. Well,... only ONE week into my stay in a dorm. I got sick and had to drop out... missing that semester! I had a surgery and was 1/2 way back to normal by January, but not enough to go back to Dorm in college, so I decidedthat, to keep myself busy, I'd take 2 courses at SUNY Farmingdale, this time as a commuter.&lt;br /&gt;
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that semester ended ( 2 A's , well worth it) and summer came. Well, wouldn't you know it, just before the new semester was to start, You guessed it... ANOTHER SURGERY and another missed semester!! Well, I wasn't about to sit around twiddling my thumbs for another 4 months,so I decided to get a '&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;temporary'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; job until I was back on my feet; enough to go back to school. I started as a part-time lunch relief aide ( a lot of walking the halls!) and in 2004, I went full-time as an aide ( 'Paraprofessional' is the 'PC' term these days) 23 years later I'm still at my &lt;em&gt;temporary&lt;/em&gt; job... why mess with a good thing? I went to night school and finished at Dowling with a Special Ed degree, but along the way I decided to stay as an aide...&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;job security&lt;/span&gt;. I used to think that I was not living up to my potential-- along with many people I worked with who reminded me of the same-- but today I feel I have a great job: Stability, a retirement system and the biggest reason of all---MEDICAL BENEFITS!!---- There's a great feeling when you can go to a doctor of your choosing have him do all the procedures and write him/her a check a fraction of the cost.--That is worth more than any clout a teaching job would get me. and I don't have to worry about lesson plans, State tests or parents with insane requests. It's a great gig!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-4978764729141786490?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eWxdMJ1dSFRjcfp_PC28UDyHyWM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eWxdMJ1dSFRjcfp_PC28UDyHyWM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/4lJBfP5Jkzw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/4978764729141786490/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=4978764729141786490" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4978764729141786490?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4978764729141786490?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/4lJBfP5Jkzw/first-week-of-work.html" title="first week of work" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-week-of-work.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08CRHY-eip7ImA9WxBbFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-7980695304319013425</id><published>2009-09-03T17:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:37:45.852-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:37:45.852-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="car shopping" /><title>a Relaxing Massage</title><content type="html">Well, last October I gave my mother a present, A trip to a beauty salon to get her eyelashes lengthened; (It took forever to find the place, because they didn't say it was a small operation in the back of a Fitness place!!.) It started when I met a woman at a baby shower and we commented on her beautiful lashes, she said they were fake. Mom's lashes fell out in one eye from nerves and she always wanted to do something about it. so the lady gave me the name of the salon and I bought her a gift certificate- &lt;em&gt;Last October&lt;/em&gt;- Mom was excited but as always too busy to pay attention to herself. So time went by and it's now September and only one month till the certificate expires, so Mom convinced ME to use the coupon for a facial. but she wanted me to pretend I was her. ( I hate lying so I was hoping the lady didn't question, and she DIDN'T!! &lt;span style="color: #6666cc;"&gt;PHEW!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;well we found it and I got on the table, and proceeded to close my eyes to relax (this is an important bit of info to remember.) She wanted to do a full chemical peel but I was chicken; I didn't want my &lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;BEAUTIFUL FLAWLESS SKIN&lt;/span&gt; to get ruined. So she just gave me the basics. when I put my head back my neck hurt a little , MOM was there watching and I didn't want to make a big deal out of it!! So I toughed it out. she put on the cream , then the humidifier and it felt great. She left the room for a bit to take a phone call and came back, then started picking at my skin. when she was done getting the &lt;em&gt;MANY BLACKHEADS&lt;/em&gt; (According to her) the next thing I know I felt this HEAVY thing go on my whole face ( remember my eyes were closed to &lt;span style="color: #993300;"&gt;RELAX&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Well here's where the fun started I FREAKED OUT ' sat right up hyperventilated feeling like i was going to suffocate! I felt like a jerk. The lady left the room again for me to relax. after a bit I felt I'd try again so Mom showed me the mask and it looked harmless so I laid down and my mother put it on me and I was relaxed again. ...&lt;/span&gt;I think this is related to my fear of the Anesthesia mask they used on me as a kid. I never liked it and one day at home i was watching an episode of 'Mr. Roger's Neighborhood' where he had to go to the hospital for surgery. When they were putting the mask on him, he held it in his hands and examined it and talked about it. So, the next time I was in the hospital and they proceeded to put the mask on my I went to reach for it just to touch it and.... The nurses HELD MY HANDS DOWN AND PUT THE MASK OVER MY FACE AND WOULDN'T LET GO!! ever since then I didn't like the mask and had IV to put me to sleep.. also back in those days, Mom wasn't allowed to stay with me overnight or walk to the OR with me!! I HATED the hospital when i was younger... more like feared! (Anyway back to the story)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;...So we're Waiting, and waiting and WAITING!! for this woman to come back and finally she does... 20 minutes later!! She said that her groomer called before and said she could take her dog NOW because they had a cancellation, so the woman ...left me on the table, went home, picked up her dog and took him to the groomer!!! ( I can't believe she told me this with a straight face !!) Well, finished the facial and I look terrific, paid the lady and left (after I bought a &lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;necessary &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;cream of course!!) When I got home my neck started to hurt a little. and the next day it was killing me ... that'll teach me to speak up when I'm uncomfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-7980695304319013425?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/m-37RfRDR9gYDg3t_TADl-CPrqk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/m-37RfRDR9gYDg3t_TADl-CPrqk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/hJfqOJAprJw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/7980695304319013425/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=7980695304319013425" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/7980695304319013425?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/7980695304319013425?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/hJfqOJAprJw/relaxing-massage.html" title="a Relaxing Massage" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/09/relaxing-massage.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUGSXY9cSp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-5420282972293211</id><published>2009-08-31T20:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:43:48.869-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:43:48.869-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="car shopping" /><title>Loooong Day, but productive</title><content type="html">Well the day started out at 8:30 am and it was off to the eye doctors for an 11:15 appointment. I got there and the doctor came in and gave me part of the exam and proceeded to dilate my eyes for part II, at which time he left the room for the drops to take effect... which they did very effectively. He finished the exam gave me a prescription for eyeglasses and I left. My next stop was spur of the moment. Mom and I decided to pay a visit to the place that originally installed my hand controls on my Accord 22 years ago. We had the hand controls that Joe took off my car the night before ;( It wasn't an easy job but he figured he'd save them) The guy at the shop took one look at them and said they were dinosaurs and couldn't reuse them, but the Mobility Rebate that I am getting from Honda should cover new ones and part of the car topper, so it wasn't a total loss. Then it was off to the bank for a bank check so I can purchase my new car. (EXCITING) Well, I got to the bank and all went well until I had to 'sign here' - &lt;em&gt;Help my eyes are still dilated&lt;/em&gt;!!- that was an interesting experience. we got the check and it was off to my Grandmother's house to pickup my aunt then to the dealer to get the car. - Let me backtrack, I called the dealer to verify the check amount and &lt;em&gt;newsflash&lt;/em&gt; she gave me an amount LARGER than what we had discussed, she tried to cook up a story that the former quote didn't include all the fees. so I did what any 43-year old mature woman would do....handed my mother the phone... LOL!! after a few words with her, things were ironed out. we proceeded to pick up my Aunt to help us get the car since the hand controls were not installed yet. ( the dealer put the controls on my last two cars but this time said they couldn't do it for '&lt;em&gt;LIABILITY&lt;/em&gt;' let me throw up!!) . I signed the papers ( with my eyes &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; not recovered) and Mom got in the driver's seat (HEY! What's wrong with this picture???!!). Let me tell you about &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Nerves! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;every&lt;/em&gt; time she had to brake, my heart stopped and when I'd see an 18-wheeler LOOKOUT!! We got home put my new car in the garage and had a snack and it was off to the optometrist in the van to get my new glasses, ( and not a day too soon since mine broke 2 days ago!!) Got the glasses then Mom and Joe wanted to take me to dinner at my favorite restauraunt, but I was sooooo *%^&amp;amp; !!EXHAUSTED that I settled for a tuna sandwich and a cup of tea. got in the house, sat in the recliner, put my legs up right away and AAAAHHHHH! Home at last!!Boy my car looks terrific in the driveway!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-5420282972293211?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ha-_p2iDYsxU8-Sw8tTHA7Vwm7U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ha-_p2iDYsxU8-Sw8tTHA7Vwm7U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/cO18CJJBfzk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/5420282972293211/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=5420282972293211" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/5420282972293211?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/5420282972293211?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/cO18CJJBfzk/loooong-day-but-productive.html" title="Loooong Day, but productive" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/loooong-day-but-productive.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUBRXg-fyp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-4354710193255627854</id><published>2009-08-30T13:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:44:14.657-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:44:14.657-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><title>Snooping around</title><content type="html">Just had a thought. Doesn't everyone like to go over other peoople's houses and when they use the bathroom they just can't help themselves but snoop in the medicine cabinet. OOOH look at what we have here: &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Tums&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;span style="color: #33cc00;"&gt;Ben-Gay&lt;/span&gt; and massage lotions, &lt;span style="color: #3366ff;"&gt;Senokot-S&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: #9999ff;"&gt;Dulcolax&lt;/span&gt;, eye wash, &lt;span style="color: #336666;"&gt;Efferdent Plus&lt;/span&gt;.Oh i can't stop there let's look under the sink: &lt;span style="color: #33ffff;"&gt;Depends&lt;/span&gt;, plastic bags,...By now you may be saying to yourself 'Hey Lisa stop snooping in your Grandmother's bathroom, you may get caught' . Well, that's highly unlikely since the bathroom cabinets I'm talking about are..... MINE!!! Yes all those wonderful items belong to me; a healthy, attractive ( if I do say so myself) 43 -year old!! You may ask be asking yourself 'What's a healthy, attractive 43 year old doing with a medicine cabinet full of those items?? well these items help me stay that way.&lt;br /&gt;
These are some of the items , Let's go over them one-by-one, shall we:&lt;br /&gt;
TUMS: Or as I sometimes like to refer to them - my'after dinner mint' ... and breakfast and lunch....since I do not move around often, My metabolism is kinda sluggish so after almost every meal I let out one heckuva 'BBBBEEEEELLLCCCHHH!' Now when I am in a public place I try to stiffle it as much as I can but it just makes the indigestion worse, so I make up the difference when I am in the comforts of my own home. As one member of my family says: ' there goes the teapot again'&lt;br /&gt;
Ben-Gay and Massage lotions: Walking around for almost 40 years on crutches, my arms are a Bursitic mess, from my shoulders to the tips of my fingers. My hips ache a lot too since i don't use my knees or thighs I just pivot from my hips to walk. I always joke when I am out and do a lot of walking that I am going to ; go home take off my shoes and braces, but my feet up and soak my &lt;em&gt;HANDS&lt;/em&gt; in a tub of water!! LOL. also every month my trusty nurse Carolyn gets out the massage table that my former massage left for me and gives me a massage from head to toe. the Massage is great, and the rates are even BETTER!!&lt;br /&gt;
Senokot-S and dulcolax. Or as I lovingly refer to it... 'MY BOMB' If you follow my blog, you know I partake in this ritual at least once a week. Some days it's uneventful and I am good to go out by 2:00pm other days well, I'm up around 1 am sometimes I get a gagging reflex, sometimes I start flashing and mom has to use a cool cloth to relax me, sometimes the pain feels like I am about to give birth to a prehistoric animal...OUCH! but it's absolutely worth it since I know I can go the week to work without an incident ( remember the story of me in High School in the girl's bathroom?)&lt;br /&gt;
Eye-wash- nothing majorly medically wrong, it's just that my eyes get tired alot and I like the soothing of the eye wash. That reminds me of a story.. I was 15 years old and I had to get a new pair of glases since mine broke. when i went to the place they said they wouldn't give me glasses without an eye exam. I always go to an Opthamologist since I have a shunt and he checks for pressure behind the eyes and gives me a full work-up but since I needed the glasses ASAP (20/200 vision) I let her do it. Well she very nicely informed me that i had the eyes of a 50 Year-old MAN!! let's just squash a teenager's self-elstem shall we??&lt;br /&gt;
Okay, back to the contents of my bathroom shall we:&lt;br /&gt;
Depends: I dont FULLY Depend on them (pun intended) but I have the occassional oops with the bladder ( and sometimes bowel) and i don't know when it's going to happen so I stay prepared.&lt;br /&gt;
and last, but certainly not least, I have a package of .&lt;br /&gt;
Efferdent handy for the times I need to soak my...... Retainer, come on you didn't think I was going to say dentures did you??&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway that is the infamous tour of my bathroom. Hope you enjoyed it as much as i did snooping around. Till next time.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-4354710193255627854?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ClWnEVr4_qCc2f5pThdGccy8yiw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ClWnEVr4_qCc2f5pThdGccy8yiw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/Qbpe9H9tISI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/4354710193255627854/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=4354710193255627854" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4354710193255627854?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/4354710193255627854?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/Qbpe9H9tISI/snooping-around.html" title="Snooping around" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/snooping-around.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUMSHk9fyp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-357133999156227122</id><published>2009-08-29T17:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:44:49.767-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:44:49.767-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="car shopping" /><title>My New Car!!</title><content type="html">Well, I did it. Yesterday I went to Babylon Honda and bought a new car!! I thought i was going to buy my car at another location; One which i have been back and forth to a couple of times, I actually picked out a specific car,( color and all It was right in the showroom) and said I'd be back when i found out a few things. WhenI went BACK to the location to pick up the car and sign papers, I found out that MY car was sold!! he said that he didn't have a car that color on the lot and that 'No other dealer on Long Island' had one!!and tried to sell me a different color 'DA NOYV OF HIM!!' So I nicely stood up and went to another dealer, which i called from my car. and Lo and Behold he had the car I wanted right in the showroom!!! So I signed the papers and gave the down payment right there on the spot. Then I called the mechanic that was going to install the chair- topper for me. ( A device that lifts your wheelchair onto the roof of the car!!... COOL!!) I asked him if he could switch my hand- controls from my old car to the new car and he said sure .............are you ready..... For $400!!!! Well I kindly said I'd get back to him ( probably not) so now I think I have to find a different place to put in my hand controls AND the car topper!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-357133999156227122?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sz8SJFiux52X6wLm1OQ1vdcEojc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sz8SJFiux52X6wLm1OQ1vdcEojc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/9Gn6SnVaIyc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/357133999156227122/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=357133999156227122" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/357133999156227122?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/357133999156227122?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/9Gn6SnVaIyc/my-new-car.html" title="My New Car!!" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-new-car.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcBSX44fyp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-1648248742621336861</id><published>2009-08-25T14:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:40:58.037-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:40:58.037-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><title>Oh, Crappy Day--or  educating the educators</title><content type="html">Well, It's Tuesday at 2:25 in the afternoon, I just had breakfast (Brunch) and am &lt;em&gt;starting&lt;/em&gt; my day. Actually, my day started at 3:00 a.m. this morning!! You see last night I took a few pills, as I do once a week, every week, and &lt;em&gt;have been&lt;/em&gt; doing for the past 23 years (AT LEAST). NO I'm NOT a junkie, I take these pills to help me with a &lt;em&gt;certain&lt;/em&gt; bodily function that most people with Spina Bifida have issues with, and that is... &lt;em&gt;Drum roll please&lt;/em&gt;... GOING TO THE BATHROOM!!&lt;br /&gt;
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I've always been incontinent with my bowels ( and at the time also bladder), but it started becoming a real issue in High School. Let me start from the beginning .I was always in public school since the 3rd grade... (1972 - I think i was part of a pilot program for the Education of All Children Act of 1975 but, I'm not sure.) I went to an elementary school that was in my town but out of my school district, because the school in district was 3 levels and this was only 1 level. I was teamed with the school psychologist whose only concern was to 'TIME' me with a stop watch to see how long it took me to walk from the class to the cafeteria and other points in the school!! ( OOOOH your tax dollars at work!) I also needed some help with my personal needs so I'd go into the nurse's office and use her bathroom. It would work out great until I'd actually &lt;em&gt;need &lt;/em&gt;a little assistance and she'd call home to have someone come up and assist me in changing my clothes. They didn't have to bring the clothes up you see, because I always kept a change of clothes right IN the Nurse's office!! (&lt;em&gt;imagine that!). &lt;/em&gt;Well, you want to hear something ironic??? (Of &lt;em&gt;course&lt;/em&gt;, you do you're reading my blog aren't you?); well, the nurse would talk to my grandmother and they built up a friendship and one day when we were eating dinner the phone rang... It was the school nurse she called ot tell us that her daughter-in-law just had a baby girl ....WITH SPINA BIFIDA... (Who says the man upstairs doesn't have a sense of humor)... Then I went to my Home district for Junior High, This was great because some of my teachers were also my mother's and aunts' and uncles' teachers, so they were willing to work with me. The school was 2 levels and the Science labs were upstairs so what they did, since I was capable of climbing stairs with assistance, was to schedule my first 5 periods downstairs, then I would leave 5 minutes early- as i did with ALL my classes, and a classmate would assist me by carrying my books while I went up the stairs. luckily for her it was just notebooks because I was permitted to keep a textbook in each classroom to lighten my load. ( actually the load of my classmate since SHE was the one carrying &lt;em&gt;both&lt;/em&gt; our books) I'd have 6th, 7th &amp;amp; 8th upstairs and again would leave 5 minutes early to go back downstairs and board the bus. 1/2 way through 8th grade it was becoming a struggle to do the stairs so they arranged to have me take the science class in an ALC -now I didn't &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; an&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;ALC for academics, but it was a better alternative than the daily climb up to the 2nd floor and the risk of being in the stairwell when the bell rang!! I even went on a school overnight trip with the Chorus to Pennsylvania and New Jersey's Great Adventure where my chorus teacher organized a 'Lisa committee' comprised of my classmates to help me from 'point A' to 'point B' they were scheduled to meet me at several points in the park. It was a terrific trip!!Even the competition in Pennsylvania where i was in the bottom row 'cause i couldn't climb the steps, and my Mom was in the FRONT ROW I became a deer in headlights and Mom didn't make matters any better when she so nicely pointed out to me that she got that special seat and all I could do was lip-sync!! well in 1980 it was off to High School. NOW , again, I didn't want to go to the High School in my district because the darn building was so big that I'd need a taxi to get from class-to-class. and I knew 5 minutes wasn't enough to leave a class early and since the school had double the student body (maybe triple) If I was ever stuck in the hall when the bell rang.... UGH!! not a pretty picture!! So Mom asked if I'd want to go to an all girl's Catholic school 2 towns over and I said 'what the heck.' WELL PEOPLE...... it was the &lt;span style="color: #6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;LONGEST&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;year and a half of my life. I didn't have assistance I just had to ask another student if they'd mind carrying my books to class!! I always got help but sometimes they'd run ahead for fear of being late and just drop my books next to me!!! ( what wonderful Christian behavior!) One day it just caught up to me and well my 'Innerds' just let loose, I managed to make it into the girls room I was actually saying the'Hail Mary' over and over but not before, well let's just say the custodian had to be summoned with a mop and mom needed to come up with a change of clothes... Speaking about Christian behavior get a load of this; Each year the school would take an overnight retreat to Shelter Island in October, well since I was only in school a couple of weeks at that time, when they told my mother and me that it was best if I didn't go my sophomore year ( 10th grade) we were a little disappointed but understood, I had a whole year to prove myself and 11 grade was just around the corner..... Well, as luck would have it when I applied for the trip according to them I missed the deadline and the bus was full!-- bum luck,-- but mom wasn't discouraged she actually called Shelter Island and asked them if it would be alright if she &lt;em&gt;drove&lt;/em&gt; me to the retreat since there was no room on the bus. well there was silence on the other end of the phone ( actually I don't know this because it was my mom on the phone but it's great effect isn't it??) and the person apparently said something in the line of 'what do you mean there's no room on the bus, there's PLENTY of room on the bus.' Well, Hell hath no fury like the single mother of a disabled child scorned. Mom went right up to school demanding to talk to the principal and when they started pleading their case. Mom asked the principal when was the last time &lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; took a retreat , because she really should think about the vows she took before God!!! YIKES!! go MOM !! I'm just glad wasn't in the room at the time. Mom sat me down again and asked if I would mind going to Human Resources a school for the disabled, I was hesitant but i did, and althoug I didn't realize it at the time, it was the BEST move I ever made. I was on the swim team going to competitions out of state and it was an even playing field. finally fit in!! (although again I didn't realize it at the time) this was also around the time since that wonderful incident in the bathroom that I started taking laxatives over the weekend to 'clean me out' so if I ever had another nervous episode It wouldn't be such a fiasco. well I graduated school went to college and now I am working full time since 1987. and I am able to hold down the job because of the bowel routine I got into: I take a laxative the night before, go throught the night (I usually wake up about 1:00 stay up for 2 hours going and then go to bed. sometimes I get up more than once in a night) sometimes the next day until about dinner time. Yes, it kinda kills one day out of my weekend since I can't make any plans since I don't know &lt;em&gt;exactly&lt;/em&gt; WHEN the laxative is going to work, but it's worth hanging out one day so I can enjoy life without worrying about if my 'innerds' are going to release at an inappropriate time!! anyway I'll leave you on that note today happens to be one of those 'hang around the house' days and it's off to Atlantic City tomorrow!! tata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-1648248742621336861?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y5YCvP8KS8bxEUZWB_3Cjp3Os28/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y5YCvP8KS8bxEUZWB_3Cjp3Os28/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/ESmgpLpaPlo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/1648248742621336861/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=1648248742621336861" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1648248742621336861?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/1648248742621336861?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/ESmgpLpaPlo/oh-crappy-day-or-educating-educators.html" title="Oh, Crappy Day--or  educating the educators" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/oh-crappy-day-or-educating-educators.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQHR34-fip7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-5258008883697294376</id><published>2009-08-24T18:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:45:36.056-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:45:36.056-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="car shopping" /><title>Car shopping (part II)</title><content type="html">First of all you'r probably wondering why i titled this with a 'Part II' Well!!! I just got finished writing todays blog and... well.... the joy of computers,... didn't press the 'SAVE' button. OK. Here it goes again...&lt;br /&gt;
Went car shopping with my trusty assistant 'MOM' today. First we went to the Toyota dealer, we waited for a dealer and finally said the heck with it and left... Let me backtrack....Mom and I went to Toyota last week but all the dealers were so bogged down with the &lt;em&gt;'cash for clunker'&lt;/em&gt; promotion that we left without seeing anyone. Then we went to the Honda Dealer (&lt;span style="color: #3333ff;"&gt;'Those Honda's are very good cars!'&lt;/span&gt; to quote an old '80's honda commercial) and talked to someone, told them we'd be back , and we were. This time around I spent time getting in cars... &lt;span style="color: #cc66cc;"&gt;IN the driver's seat and OUT of the driver's seat....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6633ff;"&gt;Can I maneuver easily? can I see over the steering wheel?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; ( I'm a little old Italian lady that is a &lt;em&gt;VERY important&lt;/em&gt; feature.) and Mom was like ' OK, get out this man wants to see the car' &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3366ff;"&gt;HEY MOM! I'm here buying a car too, can't he wait his turn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3366ff;"&gt;!.....&lt;/span&gt;)(obviously I just &lt;em&gt;thought&lt;/em&gt; this and didn't &lt;em&gt;verbalize&lt;/em&gt; it for fear of getting the 'WRATH OF MOM!! lol) Then we went out into the lot, my arms are exhausted pushing through gravel... in the HEAT no less, and trying to keep up with Mom who walks soooooo quickly!! Well in the end I'll probably be heading back there Tuesday ( to Honda to buy the car.) Then it's of to the Mechanic to get the 'car-topper ' installed.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-5258008883697294376?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JifO9i7FSOqoa0xiKhQLTRAka_M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JifO9i7FSOqoa0xiKhQLTRAka_M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/Ib767s_RaVk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/5258008883697294376/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=5258008883697294376" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/5258008883697294376?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/5258008883697294376?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/Ib767s_RaVk/car-shopping-part-ii.html" title="Car shopping (part II)" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/car-shopping-part-ii.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYGQng7fCp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-3086177856459832182</id><published>2009-08-23T18:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:42:03.604-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:42:03.604-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chores mealtime" /><title>daily chores.</title><content type="html">Well just got finished snacking on a tuna sandwich and extra tuna in a bowl. when i was doneI put the dirty dishes in the sink then said 'what the heck' and went to put them in the dishwasher. Darn the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, can't put them in there!! So again my thought was to leave them in the sink. Well, living with 2 neat freaks, that wouldn't go over very well, so I emptied the dishwasher --&lt;em&gt;one &lt;/em&gt;plate, &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; utensil and &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; glass at a time.-- it took me 15 minutes. Now that may not seem like a long time ( Actually THIS time wasn't so long for me!) but if you actually time how long ONE minute is, and what you can do in that minute, you will see that it &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; kinda long. It's not like we have 10 people living in the house( only 3 ) but 3 people can use a lot of dishes in one day so the dishwasher fills up fast. You know it is great excercise since, as I said ,I could only pick up one thing at a time, put it away and then bend down and get another piece. GREAT Excercise!! ( I can feel the fat burning already). Till the next time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-3086177856459832182?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmsvkHlJgnNEsvR47eTcKGCuzhA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmsvkHlJgnNEsvR47eTcKGCuzhA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmsvkHlJgnNEsvR47eTcKGCuzhA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmsvkHlJgnNEsvR47eTcKGCuzhA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/zGB1gaSB6ms" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/3086177856459832182/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=3086177856459832182" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/3086177856459832182?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/3086177856459832182?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/zGB1gaSB6ms/daily-chores.html" title="daily chores." /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/daily-chores.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQDRXs_eSp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-6287555385422134365</id><published>2009-08-23T10:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:46:14.541-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:46:14.541-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wound care" /><title>well here  goes nothing</title><content type="html">Well I just got up and went straight for the computer. I figure if I don't get at this blogging thing right away I'll never write on it, So here it goes...When I got out of bed I realized an old blister I had got it in Florida (while on Vacation! FUN ) and have been taking care of since I came home, ( well actually my Mom has, but I ask her to help&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; so in a sense 'I' am taking care of it) had reopened--YUCK!! Blood on the bed sheet and a trail while i drag my self and my wounded foot into the bathroom! -"&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff6600;"&gt;HEY MOOOOOMMMMM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff6666;"&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; She came in and 'nurse Carol' got it all fixed with Neosporin and a sterile gauze pad. Now I'm all ready to start the day. May head down to the beach to check out the waves from Yesterdays wicked rains, I love doing that!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-6287555385422134365?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rFJ1kIqulI78kazMnzxZQaRPIRs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rFJ1kIqulI78kazMnzxZQaRPIRs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rFJ1kIqulI78kazMnzxZQaRPIRs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rFJ1kIqulI78kazMnzxZQaRPIRs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/6mbeuohZZTs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/6287555385422134365/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=6287555385422134365" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/6287555385422134365?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/6287555385422134365?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/6mbeuohZZTs/well-here-goes-nothing.html" title="well here  goes nothing" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/well-here-goes-nothing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcHQH09eyp7ImA9WxBbF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2770291059589934331.post-2397804476400564041</id><published>2009-08-22T12:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:40:31.363-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-15T20:40:31.363-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spina bifida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Well here goes nothing." /><title>Hello there</title><content type="html">Well I decided to start a blog, You may think It's because of a certain movie in theaters now, but that was just the light up my 'youknowwhat' the real inspiration is my friend Scott who I went to High School with. He has a blog and it's Terrific!! I hope I can be as interesting as him. Well that's all for now. stay tuned for the first installment (or actually 2nd if you count this one) of 'Bifida Babe'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2770291059589934331-2397804476400564041?l=bifidababe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xUJ_h_nFyMIIxjzWG6gGz5-EMPg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xUJ_h_nFyMIIxjzWG6gGz5-EMPg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xUJ_h_nFyMIIxjzWG6gGz5-EMPg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xUJ_h_nFyMIIxjzWG6gGz5-EMPg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~4/rOzUjn8SYi0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/feeds/2397804476400564041/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2770291059589934331&amp;postID=2397804476400564041" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/2397804476400564041?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2770291059589934331/posts/default/2397804476400564041?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BifidaBabe/~3/rOzUjn8SYi0/hello-there.html" title="Hello there" /><author><name>Lisa Dennis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00608068822767586299</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bifidababe.blogspot.com/2009/08/hello-there.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

