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Dear Oprah

September 15, 2013 by

redhatOprah I just need a minute of your time to talk about your magazine, which I do enjoy reading except for a couple of small problems. Just a couple really, you being the publisher and one of the richest most influential women in the world could fix this with a smile and a snap of your well-manicured fingers. I wish you would think about the message you send, I do. So let me tell you what is on my mind, what is bugging me this lovely Sunday morning as I sit with my coffee and your magazine. I would bet if you knew you would think this might be relevant. Of course, then again you might think to yourself, “Really, I am Oprah Winfrey and my magazine makes millions without the advice of some barely read blogger from Texas, pfftt”.

Here is the problem Oprah, you don’t mind I am so familiar do you?

Never mind, Tom Cruise jumps on your sofa so certainly you don’t mind if I call you Oprah as if we know each other; back to the problem. In the first hundred (100) pages of the October magazine, every advertisement but one, nothing but skinny bitches not one single woman looks like me, or for that matter like you. Sorry for that but you and I both know most American women have a bit of meat on their boney asses. I will bet you a mani-pedi your entire editorial staff knows most of us do not look like that. For that matter, those women in those pictures, hell they don’t look like that. Really though, Oprah I simply expect more and better from you, don’t you remember when tent dresses were the only style you wore and elastic was your best friend? You are still wearing clothing in the double digits, so why doesn’t your magazine reflect the real American woman?

Just sayin.

Not her heaviest, but not her lightest either

Not her heaviest, but not her lightest either

Now on to my other issue, I think this one is even more of a problem. I know you are wealthy and what you have done is fabulous. Your accomplishments in life, as well as, your philanthropy are to be lauded and emulated. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way; honestly though, I think your magazine has lost sight of your readership, the economy and how we live. What do I mean by this; let me show you by just picking at a couple of your articles this month.

Adam’s Style Sheet, Page 92 this month was Top Coats. Nice selection and pairing, unfortunately not a single thing would fit a woman over size 14, some likely don’t even go that high (Readership loss). Then we have some interesting additions to the feature such as; Coach and Zac Posen Bags, Jean-Michael Cazabat and Zac Posen Shoes. The list could go on, I will stop here the real issue being the Economy, how many of your readership has hundreds of dollars to spend do you think? Yet, your stylist creates these looks, which are impossible to emulate on the cheap. Well why not? Perhaps the point is to simply make others feel inadequate? If that isn’t the point then something should change, maybe how to create these styles with the incomes real women have at their disposal.

So let us flip back to page 150, Strut your Stuff. Wonderfully laid out by the way, I simply loved every single boot in this article; of course, since you only style for the skinny bitch audience, those wonderful $850 Tony Burch boots wouldn’t fit my larger calves but nonetheless still loved looking. Back to my point, there must be a small (5%) audience who will see these marvelous outfits and will not read beyond where to buy, won’t care the wallet busting prices. Remember though, Readership and the Economy, most will; in fact, ninety-five percent (95%) of your readership will weep when they see those prices. Let me give you just a few of my favorites;

Page 153 – absolutely love the green bootie! Total price for the outfit, $1,205, this includes only the items priced on the page not everything.

I might need these

I might need these

Page 154 – those boots, I might have to starve my dearly beloved for a week or two for those boots. Total price for this one, $1,433. Fortunately for me the only thing that would fit are the boots, $450.

Remember what I said, Readership and Economy? Not a single one of the eleven (11) outfits presented in this layout was within the range of your average reader. Not a single one of these was even feasible to emulate from the places most of us usually find ourselves shopping. Come on Oprah; remember most of us left size 0 behind us when we were twelve years old, if we were even that then. Most of us don’t shop Tony Burch or L.A.M.B. as much as we might wish just once we could. Most of us don’t have a spare $1,500 for a single outfit for lunch with our BFF or date night with our version of Stedman.

Oprah, could you please cut us a break here? I have nothing against skinny bitches, truly I don’t. Nevertheless, I surely would like to think at least you have nothing against the rest of us.

To all my thin and healthy friends and readers, no offense was meant by Kickm reference to ‘skinny bitches’ and you have my sincere apology if you were offended, truly. The truth is I wish I was one of you so I could wear all the fabulous clothing I salivate over in Oprah and Vogue. This was written somewhat tongue in cheek but also in part to address what is lacking in all media today, women who look like me and like the average American woman.

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Cameras in the Locker Room

February 6, 2013 by

redhatI have finally gone back to the gym. Everyone said I was ready and with support and a good trainer to help, I could do this. I agreed and so off I trotted. I like my trainer, she and I have worked together before, she isn’t body perfect and she has had some injuries, she understands.

What does she understand you ask, rightly. She understands if I say I can’t do that I am not being a whiny itchy baby, I am saying my injuries won’t let me do that particular movement. When I say that she modifies the movement and we work through it. That is why I like my trainer. We are working to rebuild me, from the ground up. We are working to rebuild my balance, my strength and my confidence. She isn’t asking me to step on a scale, she isn’t measuring my waist, my ass or my thighs. She gets I feel miserable in the layers of fat I am wearing today and don’t need reminders. She talks to me about food, nutrition and other programs my gym offers and we look for things that might work for me.

I like my trainer. I usually like my gym, but this is a Red Hat, so you know there is something that must have stuck in my craw, something that has me sideways.

I meet my trainer in the morning on the way to work, specifically I work out at 7am. This means I must change at the gym. I must shower and dress at the gym, this already grosses me out. I must use their facilities, their locker room. When you walk into their locker room there is a great big sign, you can’t miss it unless you are blind it:

nocell

Obviously not the actual sign, but a close

facsimileDespite this very obvious sign you cannot miss unless you are blind, women are casually carrying on extended conversations on their smart phones. Listening to music on their smart phones. Playing games or something on their smart phones.

Unless I am mistaken, all of these phones have cameras in them. I am fairly certain, I am not mistaken.

What I am most annoyed with is many of these women have walked directly by the locker room attendant with their phones plugged directly into their ears, nothing was said. Then there are the women who are sitting on the benches casually chatting on their phones, carrying on conversations as the attendant walks through the locker room without saying a word.

What the hell? Which one of them can’t read the sign? The member or the attendant, this is the question I want answered.

Yesterday, my patience finally reached a boiling point. Maybe it is me but the locker room at the gym is not a tearoom or a bar, especially first thing in the morning. I don’t want to navigate around body perfects standing in the middle of the aisles discussing last night with each other or the person on the other end of their smart phones. I don’t want to try to dress while other women are sitting on the benches with their phones to their ears carrying on complete conversations. I certainly do not give to tinkers damn, who they did or in what position they did them.

Can I just say…..You are not that important!!

It is unlikely there is anything going on in your life that is so important it cannot wait for the one hour it takes you to work out. Leave your phone in the car. I do.

If you want to work out to music, buy a $49 IPod. Yes, I am well aware your smart phone does everything today. Tough, it isn’t allowed in the locker room and it makes others very uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable.

In fact, it makes me so uncomfortable I thought about it all day. I stopped at the gym on my way home and talked to the Operations Manager about it, he wasn’t there yesterday morning. I told him about my experience of the morning, including his own staff not doing anything. He is apparently new to this gym.

He promised to talk to the staff.

He suggested I say something to offenders first. I explained, it isn’t my job to enforce gym rules but that I would be happy to do so politely once. The problem with this is I would be doing so to ¾ of the women in the locker room and I really didn’t have time to police the locker room. It was the job of his staff to prevent members from entering with their smart phones.

I suggested his staff do their jobs at the front end, at the door of the locker room instead and that if I had to do it for them it would only be polite once. We talked about the maliciousness of humans, women in particular. I reminded him of the pictures we have all seen on the Internet from time to time, those terrible pictures we all laugh at of Wal-Mart customers, Fat Girls and others. I asked him where he thought they came from, did he really believe people posed for them.

My next work out is Thursday morning. I will give him an opportunity. If things aren’t better, I will politely say to other members their phones aren’t allowed in the locker room, point them to the sign at the entrance and ask the attendant to deal with it if necessary.likemycamera

If things aren’t better, next Tuesday I will pack my 35mm film camera (without film) into my gym bag and when I am dressing, I will put that empty camera on the bench next to me. What do you think, might the important ladies of smart phones cadre be a tad discomforted by my camera?

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Red Hat: Doctors Pride

December 30, 2012 by

redhatTwenty years ago, someone hurt me, we have been all through this and I am not going to bore you with the details. Twenty years ago, my body suffered a significant amount of damage that has cascaded into more damage over the years. Twenty years ago I had surgery to repair some of the most egregious of that damage and provide me with some relief, my spine from T2 to T5 were fused, we used human material, my choice. At the time, I thought the doctor was a miracle worker and the surgery a true miracle, my pain went from a nine on a scale of 1-10 to an average of three immediately, I was in heaven on earth.

That was twenty years ago, this is today.

I have been pondering my reaction to recent events with my doctor and his referral to ‘the best neurosurgeon’ in Dallas. Really, this clinic and this surgeon treats members of the Cowboys!

Let me tell you why this is my Red Hat of the year, my friends.

This has been a hard year for me pain wise. Last year it started to escalate. I know what is wrong; my regular doctors know what is wrong too. We have all been down this road for a very long time now. This time though everyone said, ‘no more injections it is too much and too far-gone, time for something else, time for an expert to take a look at the damage and determine next steps.’

Not really what I wanted to hear, but I didn’t disagree. My last MRI’s were 14 months ago, so when the new clinic called to make the appointment they said, ‘no the DOCTOR will want new film, don’t bother to bring what you have.’ I thought this was odd, but I did what they said and I didn’t throw all of my Cervical and Lumbar MRI film into my purse. On the phone, I asked did my doctor explain the referral was for both my Cervical and Lumbar; the nice young lady happily responded in the affirmative and explained I should set aside enough time for x-rays, MRI and a consultation.

I did just that, I took the entire day off to make certain I had the time blocked. Well that isn’t quite what happened, indeed that is nowhere near what happened.……..

There are eighteen doctors at The Clinic. They are apparently very proud of themselves, very proud of the fact they treat professional athletes and others of wealth and influence. Their clinic is a model of efficiency when it comes to your sign-in, making certain they have all your financial information that is.

This was not my Doctor, dammit

This was not my Doctor, dammit

Perhaps those with a great deal of money, or those who wear professional football jerseys don’t care how they are treated by their medical providers. Perhaps, they accept a lack of courtesy as part of the game.

On the other hand, I have a standard, even for professionals considered to be at the top of their field. Part of this standard is do not under any circumstance treat me as if I am stupid, unaware, beneath your contempt or not worthy of your time. Despite your years of education, the accolades of your peers and the worship of those professional athletes you have treated I am still paying you! Between me and my insurance cold hard cash is leaving our pockets and entering yours.

I am not a charity case; you aren’t climbing down off your effing ego mountain, wading through the muck to treat me. Indeed not, I drove to your clinic after spending the better part of an hour filling out reams of paperwork, providing you not only with my insurance information but also with my personal financial information and then waiting for you for 45 minutes after my appointment time because your time is clearly more valuable than mine is. After all that, you Herr Doktor had the unmitigated gall to act as if I wasn’t well enough informed, smart enough or perhaps interesting enough to be sitting in your treatment room.

First, you had not bothered to read the Referral sent over by the doctor who has been treating me for eight years.

Then you callously observed my throat and arms had been sliced open and demand an explanation. Frankly, Doctor, none of your business but since you must know my ex-husband tied me to a bed and took a straight razor to me.

When you finally got around to looking at the x-ray you couldn’t figure out what those strange ‘pathways’ in my neck and into my spine were. Had you read the referral you would have known they were bullet entrance and exit wounds, but you couldn’t be bothered so I had to explain it. Your comment to this, oh yeah; “I healed up nicely.”

pain

This was the first ten minutes; we spent another five exercising my right arm, which is periodically numb, periodically paralyzed, and periodically so painful I wish I could cut it off. You my good doctor, your diagnosis? I have arthritis in my shoulder and need a better painkiller and some physical therapy. When I explained I try to avoid painkillers so I can live a full life, you suggested I simply take more Motrin and handed me a ‘prescription’ for physical therapy, told me to go wherever I wanted and come back to see you in March. Are you even aware the damage 2400 milligrams of Motrin will do taken daily?

Mind you, I have never had arthritis. There is not a damned thing wrong with my shoulder and never has been, movement hurts because my cervical spine hurts and I have nerve damage you numbnut. Did I fail to mention, he didn’t have time in the first consult to deal with both the Cervical and the Lumbar, I would have needed to make two appointments for that. He didn’t order MRI’s. What he did say to me as he left the room…..

“You win for the best story of 2012.”Kickm

Well, Dr. Andrew Dossett of The Carrell Clinic wins for the worst bedside manner, least compassionate, worst listener and most egotistic medical provider it has been my experience to run into in many years.

Was this a bit incoherent? My apologies. I am between terribly peeved and in pain, have been for weeks now. I am also between a rock and a hard spot, so is my regular doctor, we will work it out but in the meantime I am stuck with how do I get through the day.

I don’t often call out names in my Red Hats, but in this case well I just thought it was worthy. How does a Doctor, a person who takes an oath to ‘do no harm’ act in such a callous and uncaring manner. Wasn’t I in a big enough puddle on the floor? Did I not show enough abject misery?

Sorry Doctor, it isn’t my way to weep and gnash my teeth. But it should be your way to show compassion and treat the patient in front of you not your effing assumptions.

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