I've mentioned before that one of my biggest fears is my house exploding due to leaky gas pipes.
I feel like they are more common than ever this year, and that concerns this neurotic wife! My co-worker says her next house will be electric heat for this very reason. (Although my feeling is, unless you can guarantee your neighbors' houses are also electric, you're still at risk of explosion.)
The Boston Globe recently reported on my gut feeling. It makes me wonder if gas lines built years ago just aren't holding up. Has the recession caused gas companies to delay repairs?
The Globe reports, "These blasts, killing three and injuring one, have served as a reminder of the dangers associated with the massive underground pipe system tunneling beneath streets and delivering a flammable product to nearly 1.5 million customers in the state. The system's 21,000 miles of gas main would be nearly enough to travel around the circumference of the Earth. More than a third of the system relies on old, antiquated pipes."
Yikes.
Showing posts with label environment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label environment. Show all posts
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Part One: 25 Things I am Neurotic About
In honor of the craze sweeping Facebook right now, I am listing 25 things I have worried about recently. This will be a series of five posts.
1. A mysterious, large bruise that appeared on my arm - When I was 11 I read a book about a girl who got leukemia, and one of the symptoms was that she bruised easily. Now whenever I notice a bruise and can not remember how I got it I assume the worst.
2. Ring worm - This is a rare instance that I was not worrying, and I should have been. As I have mentioned, I recently went to the doctor for a regular check-up. There I learned that what I thought was a patch of dry skin on my leg was actually ring worm. (Note: The doctor told me ring worm is not a worm, it's a fungus. That was supposed to make me feel better.
3. High levels of sodium - I had a Lean Cuisine for lunch today. Anytime I have a frozen meal I worry about sodium in-take, but today I topped it off with some soy sauce with my dinner. Now my toe feels like it's going numb. I'm convinced the two are related.
4. Blood clots - I am getting on a plane in three weeks.
5. Potholes - I can not believe that no one has invented pothole resistant asphalt. If I had not done Mad Libs all through chemistry in high school I'd be on top of that invention. Instead I sit at home and worry about my husband driving his little Civic straight into an SUV-sized pothole.Check back soon for the next five worries in this series...
1. A mysterious, large bruise that appeared on my arm - When I was 11 I read a book about a girl who got leukemia, and one of the symptoms was that she bruised easily. Now whenever I notice a bruise and can not remember how I got it I assume the worst.
2. Ring worm - This is a rare instance that I was not worrying, and I should have been. As I have mentioned, I recently went to the doctor for a regular check-up. There I learned that what I thought was a patch of dry skin on my leg was actually ring worm. (Note: The doctor told me ring worm is not a worm, it's a fungus. That was supposed to make me feel better.
3. High levels of sodium - I had a Lean Cuisine for lunch today. Anytime I have a frozen meal I worry about sodium in-take, but today I topped it off with some soy sauce with my dinner. Now my toe feels like it's going numb. I'm convinced the two are related.
4. Blood clots - I am getting on a plane in three weeks.
5. Potholes - I can not believe that no one has invented pothole resistant asphalt. If I had not done Mad Libs all through chemistry in high school I'd be on top of that invention. Instead I sit at home and worry about my husband driving his little Civic straight into an SUV-sized pothole.Check back soon for the next five worries in this series...
Monday, January 26, 2009
Missing the Icy Patches
I went skiing yesterday for the first time this winter. You are probably surprised that a neurotic wife enjoys strapping sticks to her feet and pointing them straight down a mountain. It's actually a therapeutic exercise in overcoming neurotic thoughts. In fact, skiing provides a perfect snapshot of how I manage to overcome my worries and live a normal life.
The fear I feel when I approach a steep drop (the type where all you see is blue sky, not the ground below you) is nearly paralyzing. But as gripping as that fear is, the euphoria when I've reached the bottom is just as great. I put aside my worries, have faith in myself and my ability, and then I rely on a little bit of luck in missing the icy patches on the way down --- sounds a lot like my general approach to life.
The fear I feel when I approach a steep drop (the type where all you see is blue sky, not the ground below you) is nearly paralyzing. But as gripping as that fear is, the euphoria when I've reached the bottom is just as great. I put aside my worries, have faith in myself and my ability, and then I rely on a little bit of luck in missing the icy patches on the way down --- sounds a lot like my general approach to life.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Brown Baby No More
My Italian mother used to mix iodine and baby oil and rub it on her skin before sitting out in the sun. The same mother who is responsible for my worried nature was also a main participant in the "brown baby" contest every summer. My mother and her friends would compete to see which elementary school-aged child could get the best tan every summer. For the record I never won, my dad is fair-skinned Irish.
Despite all of the neuroses I have learned from her, lathering myself in sun block was not one of them. In her defense, the message that the sun kills really only hit the airwaves in the past 10-12 years. (And "Kudos" to you Coppertone public relations team.) Over the past few years I have become a diligent member of the 30 SPF brigade, but from 0-27, I burned until I blistered at least once a summer.
Which brings me to my current worry: skin cancer.
The other day I discovered two freckles on the underside of my right breast. (Note: I have never sun bathed naked.) How would sun get there? Upon making the discovery I made a mental note to ask my new primary care at my appointment next week, and also schedule an appointment with the dermatologist for me and my husband. The freckles are not discolored, raised or otherwise suspicious, so I did not rush out to the doctor that morning. (Yes, very level headed, indeed!)
As I scanned the Internet for information on freckles, one of my closest friends was dealing with an uncomfortable skin situation of her own. She is translucent and a diligent member of the 45 SPF brigade for as long as I have known her. Her doctor found two suspicious freckles right on her bum, which were removed, requiring stitches. As she sat precariously on her sore tooshie we debated this new phenomena of freckles in the most unlikely of places. Could it have been seat warmers in cars that caused her situation? A hot metal bleacher? Nothing really made sense. There were even fewer possible causes for my under-breast freckles.
Never mind the cause, as neurotic wife I am focused on prevention. The only possible solution to sun exposure is more prevention. I am good at this! Rather than putting my bathing suit on first and then applying sunblock, I'll apply before I dress. Also, I always love the look of sun hats, and I think I can find one that is large enough to cast a shadow out over my chest. Let's face it, I should have embraced the beach cover up years ago, here's one more reason to do so.
Despite all of the neuroses I have learned from her, lathering myself in sun block was not one of them. In her defense, the message that the sun kills really only hit the airwaves in the past 10-12 years. (And "Kudos" to you Coppertone public relations team.) Over the past few years I have become a diligent member of the 30 SPF brigade, but from 0-27, I burned until I blistered at least once a summer.
Which brings me to my current worry: skin cancer.
The other day I discovered two freckles on the underside of my right breast. (Note: I have never sun bathed naked.) How would sun get there? Upon making the discovery I made a mental note to ask my new primary care at my appointment next week, and also schedule an appointment with the dermatologist for me and my husband. The freckles are not discolored, raised or otherwise suspicious, so I did not rush out to the doctor that morning. (Yes, very level headed, indeed!)
As I scanned the Internet for information on freckles, one of my closest friends was dealing with an uncomfortable skin situation of her own. She is translucent and a diligent member of the 45 SPF brigade for as long as I have known her. Her doctor found two suspicious freckles right on her bum, which were removed, requiring stitches. As she sat precariously on her sore tooshie we debated this new phenomena of freckles in the most unlikely of places. Could it have been seat warmers in cars that caused her situation? A hot metal bleacher? Nothing really made sense. There were even fewer possible causes for my under-breast freckles.
Never mind the cause, as neurotic wife I am focused on prevention. The only possible solution to sun exposure is more prevention. I am good at this! Rather than putting my bathing suit on first and then applying sunblock, I'll apply before I dress. Also, I always love the look of sun hats, and I think I can find one that is large enough to cast a shadow out over my chest. Let's face it, I should have embraced the beach cover up years ago, here's one more reason to do so.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Structured Life of a Neurotic Wife
As much as I hate to admit it, my husband and I live a very structured life. Our mornings follow a strict schedule. He wakes up at 7:03 a.m. and around 7:14 a.m he exits the shower and I wake up. I chat with him from bed as he gets dressed. When he goes downstairs to make the coffee, I get in the shower. My bathroom routine is a bit longer than his "11-minute-express hygiene special" and so when I am in the bathroom, he leaves for work.
The significant snow and ice we have had in Boston has altered my routine, just slightly. Now prior to getting in the shower, but after teeth brushing, face-washing and using the toilet, I scurry out of the bathroom to look out the side bedroom window. Peeking out the window I make sure that my husband has not slipped and fallen down the stairs or tumbled on a patch of ice on the driveway. A quick check that the car is gone relieves this fear.
What a terrible wife I would be had I showered, dressed, applied make up and blew dry my hair while my poor husband was lying on the icy driveway, in the cold, with a broken back!
The significant snow and ice we have had in Boston has altered my routine, just slightly. Now prior to getting in the shower, but after teeth brushing, face-washing and using the toilet, I scurry out of the bathroom to look out the side bedroom window. Peeking out the window I make sure that my husband has not slipped and fallen down the stairs or tumbled on a patch of ice on the driveway. A quick check that the car is gone relieves this fear.
What a terrible wife I would be had I showered, dressed, applied make up and blew dry my hair while my poor husband was lying on the icy driveway, in the cold, with a broken back!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
A Hearty Thank You to the CO Detector Inventor
Our heater is working overtime right now. I can tell because it's very loud. Now, it's likely that this is because it is just darn cold outside and we have an old heater. Winter arrived in Boston today.
Of course, as a neurotic wife I think it's loud because the heater is broken and spewing carbon monoxide. Carbon monoxide is a colorless, odorless gas, and in large enough levels it can kill you. I keep wondering, does my head feel light? Is the room spinning? When the room starts to spin, will I have the mental faculty to get out of the house, or should I just leave now as a precaution? Do our carbon monoxide detectors work? (Yes, I just checked.) Phew. How did we ever survive without carbon monoxide detectors in our homes? Thank you CO detector inventor!
The EPA says you should have your gas heater checked before the start of every heating season to ensure it is running properly. We didnt do that this season, and since we just bought the house in June, I dont know if it has ever been done.
Of course, as a neurotic wife I think it's loud because the heater is broken and spewing carbon monoxide. Carbon monoxide is a colorless, odorless gas, and in large enough levels it can kill you. I keep wondering, does my head feel light? Is the room spinning? When the room starts to spin, will I have the mental faculty to get out of the house, or should I just leave now as a precaution? Do our carbon monoxide detectors work? (Yes, I just checked.) Phew. How did we ever survive without carbon monoxide detectors in our homes? Thank you CO detector inventor!
The EPA says you should have your gas heater checked before the start of every heating season to ensure it is running properly. We didnt do that this season, and since we just bought the house in June, I dont know if it has ever been done.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Porpoise and the Cantaloupe
My husband grew up in a PCB-contaminated city. I'm no Erin Brockovich, but I think the city deserved more than the settlement it received - a small baseball field and a promise to clean the river.
But my issue isnt with the paltry settlement. My issue is that for years my husband rolled around in PCB-laden dirt, probably ingested some of it, and definitely got it under his fingernails. He seems fine - no obvious effects. My real concern is for our unborn children, who knows what disfigurement awaits them! PCBs are probably coating my husband's genes.
What does this have to do with a porpoise and a cantaloupe? Often my neuroses manifest themselves in dreams. In this particular re-occurring dream, I am pregnant. My belly falls off and opens up to look just like a halved cantaloupe. After the doctor scrapes the cantaloupe guts away he presents me with my baby-- which looks just like a disfigured porpoise.
In actuality, this is another case of me worrying, without researching. If you click on the link to PCB information above or below you will see that most harm is caused by the mother being exposed to PCB's - by eating contaminated fish, or working in a factory.
Most likely our unborn kids are fine - that is, if we can have them. I just learned today that high-levels of PCB's can sometimes contribute to infertility.
But my issue isnt with the paltry settlement. My issue is that for years my husband rolled around in PCB-laden dirt, probably ingested some of it, and definitely got it under his fingernails. He seems fine - no obvious effects. My real concern is for our unborn children, who knows what disfigurement awaits them! PCBs are probably coating my husband's genes.
What does this have to do with a porpoise and a cantaloupe? Often my neuroses manifest themselves in dreams. In this particular re-occurring dream, I am pregnant. My belly falls off and opens up to look just like a halved cantaloupe. After the doctor scrapes the cantaloupe guts away he presents me with my baby-- which looks just like a disfigured porpoise.
In actuality, this is another case of me worrying, without researching. If you click on the link to PCB information above or below you will see that most harm is caused by the mother being exposed to PCB's - by eating contaminated fish, or working in a factory.
Most likely our unborn kids are fine - that is, if we can have them. I just learned today that high-levels of PCB's can sometimes contribute to infertility.
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