Whatcha Gonna Do?

There’s so much anger in the air these days. Black Lives Matter. Mask regulations. School schedules in the fall. Inequitable impacts of COVID. All of these on top of regular conniption-inducing occurrences like traffic jams, dog barf, and teenagers. At least we are no longer subjected to Costco Sample Snackers blocking the aisles for the time being. God loves me and knows that THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH A WOMAN CAN TOLERATE.

I am generally uncomfortable with anger and tend to freeze up when it’s in my vicinity, but I’m learning how bear it without condoning or falling victim to it. A lot of the work I did when Alex was very sick helped me to confront my anger, process it, and then express it in more helpful and healthy ways.

Patience is kind of my superpower, but while I appeared calm on the outside, I was previously swallowing my anger or avoiding confrontation, which isn’t effective at all. I’m very good at flipping scary emotions like anger or sadness and finding a silver lining. Brene Brown taught me that, while this can be a very useful skill, it’s also important to sit in those uncomfortable feelings before moving on too quickly. This builds empathy and prevents those negative emotions from building up and biting us in the butts when we least expect it.

Plus, it can be super annoying to be with someone who’s chipper all the time. Remember that episode of Friends where Alec Baldwin was Phoebe’s new boyfriend? He was so enthusiastic about everything, gushing gratitude and positivity all the time. It was fun for a while before it became exhausting. Phoebe tells him, “Everything isn’t perfect! Everything isn’t magical! You don’t have to put a good spin on everything. You are like Santa Claus on Prozac! At Disneyland! Getting laid!” Here’s a five-minute clip that is a worthy time investment. Even if you “don’t like Friends.” *whatever*

These COVID days, I’m challenging myself to sit with the anger, fear, despair, and confusion that abounds. I’m bewildered by the protests in our beautiful city. While I understand the drive to “do something” and may be completely mistaken, I’m not convinced that these protests will lead to progress. One set of emotional humans is confronting another set of emotional humans. At a certain point, people won’t back down just based on principal. This I know from parenting teenagers. Someone has to be the adult.

Of course, I respect the choices of others while choosing different options for myself. Radical Gratitude leads me to abundant opportunities to do good right now. I also believe firmly that bunches of blessings will arise from these ashes.

In The Book of Awakening, I learned of a Tibetan Buddhist meditative practice called tong-len, which means giving and taking or sending and receiving. This practice acknowledges the presence of a certain indestructible element in each one of us; Christians would call this the Holy Spirit. This miraculous element allows us to take in and feel the pain and grief of others without becoming that pain and grief. I truly believe that we can help to transform pain and heal the world if we are willing to open our hearts.

There are three simple steps to this practice:

·  Inhale and breathe in suffering. I like to think of people close to my heart and particular challenges they are facing, then move on to more collective concerns.

·  Hold the suffering for a moment in that unbreakable place of perfect compassion and love.

·  Exhale and breathe light and joy back into the world.

I have committed to this one-minute practice six times a day: when I wake up, every three hours during the day, and before I go to bed. Will you join me in this empowering practice of tong-len?

Thank you for reading, my friends!

Any Questions?

A dear family friend was in the hospital with COVID pneumonia a few weeks ago. We grew up together in Camarillo, and our families spent a lot of time together. He was as close to me as a brother could be, minus the stealing of Halloween candy and annoyingness of living in the same house together. (Sorry, Bruh. You are pretty cool as far as brothers go, but there’s always room for improvement. Don’t get jealous.)

I bet you have questions already. Was he old? Healthy? Pre-existing health conditions? These are questions that naturally come to mind, but what real Enquiring Minds want to know is: Am I susceptible? Humans have an organic need for explanations to understand a scenario. Asking questions is also a technique to control situations. Boy, couldn’t we all use a little more control these days?! The problem is that the path many of us take toward understanding or attempting to gain more control takes us off course and distracts from the truth. If we don’t start from a position of truth, we will never get to intelligent solutions.

My friend is about my age…..so…..YOUNG. And healthy. Well, he WAS healthy until a few weeks ago. He had been feeling pretty crummy with a lingering fever, so he knew it was probably COVID. Whatcha gonna do? Stay home, get tested, let your pals and coworkers know if they need to quarantine. He had no appetite and lost 20 pounds. (GUYS, amiright??) He had no cough.

Things got real over the course of a weekend. REAL bad. REAL fast. He didn’t FEEL like he had trouble breathing. Nothing like Dr. Dyson, the cybernetics expert in Terminator 2, who valiantly sacrificed himself in an effort to thwart Judgement Day. Nice try, Dr. D. If only 2020 were as simple as filmmakers imagined the future would be! Murderous adversaries made of mimetic polyalloy? Psh. So 1995.

My friend was hanging in there, hanging in there, hanging in there, but suddenly became breathless if he tried to hold a conversation. His sensible wife urged him to go to the emergency room just to be on the safe side. Upon arrival, his respiration rate was 2-3 times above normal, meaning that his body was fighting to get more oxygen. His arterial oxygen level….that measurement taken by clipping the little chomper to your fingertip….was at 92mm Hg, well below normal for a healthy adult. His chest x-ray showed double pneumonia.

He was put on a regimen of two antibiotics, steroids, zinc, vitamin C, a blood thinner, and intravenous fluids. He was also put on insulin because this infection, and probably his recent loss of appetite, caused his blood sugar to fluctuate out of control. He was watched closely and given some time for the treatment to kick in. If he didn’t improve in a half a day or so, he would be intubated.

How is he now? I hesitate to say. Why? Because I am just going to LOSE MY SHIT if I hear one more person say, “COVID is not as bad as people make it out to be. The death rate is only 1-2% and more people are surviving now.” I don’t want people using my friend as evidence of this callous statement. This is what a BUNCH of jerkwads had the nerve to say to my friend’s wife. I concede that this was their attempt at comforting, but it comes off as dismissive denial and made me feel like busting up a whole bunch of chops. These are the same people who used my friend as evidence that “masks don’t work,” because he diligently masked in public.

JUST NO. This isn’t how masks work. Michael Jackson got it all wrong. He wasn't so much protecting himself from the world; he was protecting the world from him. Probably should have gotten a better mask. But I digress...

And according to today’s statistic from the CDC, there have been 3,761,362 cases in the US and 140,157 deaths. That is a death rate of 3.7% according to my math. Since I am 100% Chinese, that math is guaranteed 100% legit.

My friend thankfully did not die. He has been released from the hospital and is quarantining at home. While this is definitely great news, I won’t be breathing a sigh of relief any time soon. He is no longer in the hospital, but make no mistake; he is still not well and is not out of the woods yet.

Another friend of mine fell very ill in March right at the beginning of shut down. She was never tested, because getting tested wasn’t a thing way back then….four months ago….unless you were in the hospital. But she was very, very ill for many weeks. Months later, she still has bouts of fever and exhaustion.

You have lots more questions, don’t you? Did THIS friend get tested? Lisa, you seem to have many friends who have gotten sick! Have YOU been tested?

Let’s get something cleared up. A positive test result is helpful in identifying treatment plans if you are sick. If you have a positive test result and are NOT sick…an asymptomatic carrier…this information is helpful so you know to quarantine and call everyone you’ve been in contact with. But a negative test result means practically nothing. You could be infected an hour after being tested. Or this could be a false negative like the Infamous Pregnancy False Negative of 1999.

Might you know this person? Might you have been in contact with him or his family members? Does he live in Oregon? All logical questions. You want to know whether you should worry. But these questions are also irrelevant. Just as debris from the Japanese tsunami found its way to the Oregon Coast in the span of a year, nature has a way of getting places. This tsunami debris didn’t even have people to help it travel the 5,000 miles across an ocean. Worry about COVID no matter where you live and who you know.

Being close to someone who got very sick from COVID brought to my attention some of the suffering that we don’t usually think about. Like HIV, COVID infection comes with a stigma stemming from fear, so a lot of families don’t talk about their experiences. Besides the obvious fear of losing your life or the life of a loved one, there’s also the difficulty of isolation. My friend was isolated in the hospital while his wife was quarantined at home with their two teenage boys tormented with worry. After my friend was released from the hospital, his wife was promoted to quarantine with two teenage boys AND a sick husband.

While my friend was in the hospital, his wife was tasked with notifying his staff, cancelling clients, and closing up the office. Loss of income added to the worry burden. After notifying the family’s recent contacts, she learned that most folks preferred not to get tested. It was too much trouble. They didn’t have time to quarantine anyhow. So they called and texted daily, hounding her for test results that she didn’t have. These bozos sapped her of an enormous amount of energy at a time she was already tapped.

This pandemic is revealing people’s true colors, and I’m really happy that my friend’s family experienced a lot of love and care as well. Friends checked in often, offering encouragement and prayers. Gifts of groceries, fresh produce from the farmer’s market, and food from the boys’ favorite restaurants actually made them feel spoiled.

Welp. Tuesday Fus-day got a little heavy this week. As sick as we all are of COVID, we have to keep talking about it in a way that is supportive and helpful. The way things seem to be heading, we aren't going to have COVID under control any time soon. The stigma and unusualness of this illness make it even more daunting, and it’s up to us to give the conversation some healthy, truthful, physically-distanced air.

Do you have first or secondhand experience with COVID? What did you learn that surprised you? Stay well, my friends! And thank you for reading!

The Seven Two Waffle Mystery

Dull conversations--I overhear a lot of them. Well, I DID until a few months ago. Stupid COVID. I’m not talking about conversations on math or fashion…which are DEFINITELY boring…but I recognize that these topics are riveting to some, just not to me. I’m talking about lengthy conversations about laundry or salad,which is apparently enthralling to certain clandestine gas-passers.

Have you ever heard two dull people talking and one of them says, “Oh my gosh, you are hill-AIR-ious!” and it makes you just go HUH. Did that person REALLY think that comment was hilarious? Is it really funny to some people that their friend took a wrong turn and got lost on the way to Sur la Table? To me, that isn’t funny at all, but I wonder whether this is funny to some other people. Hilarious even.

I’m really not judging. Laughing is GREAT and everyone should do as much of that as possible. If a mundane, humdrum remark strikes you as hilarious, I suppose *I* am the loser. Who’s laughing now, eh?

My favorite funny people are the ones who don’t try hard. Some don’t consider themselves funny at all. My father-in-law is a consistent, unwitting source of entertainment at our house. He is very hard of hearing, and the amusement he provides is usually loud enough to make our dog very nervous. He has lived in the United States for over 50 years, so his English is excellent, but as he gets older, some funny Chinglish expressions have started popping up.

Audrey celebrated her 20th birthday this past weekend.

FIL: Welcome to adult hope!

Audrey: What?

FIL: You are officially an adult now!

Adulthood is what he was referring to.

My FIL has always been one of the most….ummm….frugal people I’ve known. What did the bird say when he flew over my FIL?

His senior living community has a salon, but he doesn’t like spending the money to get his hair cut, so Albert had been doing it for him. But since quarantine, visitors have not been allowed in his building, and we haven’t had him over to our house.

Out of an abundance of caution.

So we can flatten the curve!

During these unprecedented, uncertain times.

Welcome to The New Normal!

Can you believe this craziness?

PEOPLE. Think of better words, please.

We decided to have him over for Father’s Day last month. Over the phone, he asked Albert, “When I am there, can you mow my hair?”

And now that it’s getting warmer in Oregon, my FIL asked for some “short-sleeved pants.”

But the mystery began when he also asked for waffles from Costco.

FIL: I want some short-sleeved pants from Costco.

Albert: OK. Anything else?

FIL: Some waffles. Seven Two Waffles.

Albert: What are Seven Two Waffles?

FIL: Just the regular kind. Seven Two. They are in a yellow box.

Albert: The Eggo waffles?
FIL: Yes, Seven Two.

Now THAT is hilarious. I hope you all find some laughter in your week, friends! Thank you for reading!

Thank Heaven for Seven-Eleven!

It was 1999 and things were going smoothly at work. I was practically an expert at returning to work after maternity leave. Those first couple of weeks are a whirl of exhaustion from new parenthood, along with the flurry of work catch-up, mixed with heart-hurting sadness of missing your baby. Toss in the giddiness of reuniting with real adults who can hold intelligent conversations and “taking breaks” in the lactation room (DO NOT GET ME STARTED!!) and you kind of get an idea of just how HOT of a MESS I was.

I started this job pregnant with Alex and took my first maternity leave after working for just six months. Then just a few months after returning from maternity leave, I was pregnant again with Chris. Surprise!

So by the time I dusted out my cubicle and fired up my computer after my second maternity leave, I had worked at Blue Cross of California for almost 2 ½ years—30 months—and already hatched out two babies and taken 20% of my time there as maternity leave. I am an HR nightmare.

Fast forward another few months and I’m eating a salad at my desk. My co-worker, Erik, had been with me through two pregnancies already and eyed my lunch suspiciously.

He: Salad for lunch! It looks good. Where did you get it?

You see, he had been working with me long enough to know that a salad for lunch was not normal for me. I have always been a hearty eater, and back then I was also much less aware of nutrition. Pastrami sandwiches with a side of fries at Stuart Anderson’s. (The Square Cow Fun Bar!) Giant burritos…..oh, man, those Southern California burritos!! Tempura udon on cooler days. Salad rarely crossed my mind, and Erik approached cautiously.

Me: I walked across the street to the Italian restaurant.

He: How much did it cost you?

Me: Thirteen bucks.

(Nineteen ninety-nine, AMIRIGHT??)

He: Thirteen bucks!!? Why didn’t you just go down to the cafeteria?

Me: Well…..this one has avocado.

He with a side-eye: Are you telling me that you walked all the way across the street in 100-degree weather (Woodland Hills…..*sweat*) to buy a thirteen-dollar salad, when you could have gotten a six-dollar salad downstairs? You’re not pregnant again, are you?

Wow.

Hilarious.

I JUST had a baby six months ago.

NO! I’m not pregnant again!

Just to be safe, I bought two more pregnancy tests on my way home. Negative.

The next morning, I strutted my non-pregnant self confidently into the office. I ate my salad unperturbed. Because look at me! NOT PREGNANT.

This confidence lasted a couple more weeks. I had only had one cycle since Chris was born. Could I be late already?

Good thing those pregnancy tests come in a two-pack. One more test confirmed what Erik and the salads knew all along.

Alex had just turned two, Chris was six months old, and here is another Fu on the way?? Not only that, but Chris was SUCH a bad baby, and I was already a Certified Disaster Area.

As a kid, I dreamed of having loads of kids! Maybe six, but at least four! But after not sleeping for the past two years, I had decided that two boys were plenty of kids for me. WELP. It seems that our Littlest Fu had other plans. Audrey has never been one to follow a rule without challenge. Audrey Fu DO what she wanna do.

It took a full 24 hours for me to gather up the pieces of my brain and regulate my respiratory rate before telling Albert. My husband has never been keen on surprises, but another 48 hours after learning the big news, he was on board as well. We started out as TwoFus in 1992 and kind of skimmed right past ThreeFus and FourFus to become FiveFus with no time to change our email address in between. Efficiency at its finest!

The day that Audrey arrived was a hot one. July in Southern California. The boys were splashing in the little baby pool in the backyard, playing with the hose, and making construction sites with their Tonka trucks in the mud. Alex was almost three, and Chris was 15 months old.

My parents had brought McDonald’s for lunch earlier that day. The boys shared a box of chicken McNuggets, and I went more healthy with a McDLT.

Plus a vanilla milkshake.

It was HOT, you guys!

So when my contractions started, I thought it might just be McDiarrhea. But after about fifteen minutes, I knew it was time so I got on the horn.

My inlaws came over to watch the boys. Albert came to pick me up. The doctor told me to go to his office, since I was just beginning contractions. All was calm. All was bright.

Albert had missed lunch, so we stopped at Carl’s Junior on the way to the doctor’s office. So much fast food, I know. This was six years before “Fast Food Nation.”

We were escorted right into a room upon arrival at the doctor’s office. Women in active labor get priority it seems! My contractions were frequent by that time, and the doctor had to wait before checking my cervix. “Just tell me when you’re done.”

After that rock-hard mound of baby started to relax, he checked me swiftly, snapped off his gloves and smiled. “You’re at 7cm. I can’t believe it.” He turned to Albert. “You’re just sitting over there sipping your drink. You guys look so calm.”

Honestly, it didn’t hurt that much. I know that I am a very lucky lady! None of my labors were really that painful. The pain came much later…..when my kids became teenagers.

Dr. Coyle instructed us to go across the street to the hospital and he’d meet us there. Just a few minutes later, we were greeted by the always cheerful L&D nurses. “Are you the one at 7cm? Just walking right up here?”

Albert replied as any chronically precise creature would: “Actually we took the elevator.” Because, you see, we didn’t walk UP there. We technically walked OVER there.

One of the nurses commented with amusement that women don’t usually walk into Labor and Delivery at 7cm, to which Albert proudly responded, “Yeah. She’s tough.”

Ex-squeeze me? If you guys done with your little discussion, I’m having a baby over here! It didn’t take long before it was time to push. Dr. Coyle breezed in. One push, two pushes….OHHHH-kay! Stop pushing now.

My little buttercup squished right out at 4:07pm weighing a tiny six-and-a-half pounds on July 11, 2000. We had spent a record hour and fifteen minutes in the hospital. That was more time than BOTH of my boys combined. The excitement was over, but the work wasn’t done.

Placenta Accreta. Audrey’s placenta was attached to my uterine wall and wouldn’t release. This condition can cause severe bleeding and death of the mom. All because Audrey refused to leave the house.

For the next hour, my uterus was mashed this way and that, while Audrey’s umbilical cord hung out of my body getting tugged like a campanile bell. Meanwhile, Audrey was cleaned up and brought back to me. She was incredibly tiny and so, SO beautiful.

I held her for just a moment before being whisked away to surgery. The last thing I remembered was seeing Albert’s worried face as I was wheeled away. Then suddenly, I was shaking my head trying to wake up. I heard Dr. Coyle say to Albert, “She did great. It’s like we did nothing more than cut her toenails.” I remembered nothing in between.

We forget to appreciate little medical miracles like this because they happen all the time. Not that long ago, I might have bled to death. Blows my mind.

Only clear liquids are allowed after anesthesia. I hadn’t had dinner, and the jello and broth were not cutting it for me. I was so hungry and tired that I was crying and unable to sleep.

The nurse finally had pity on me around midnight and scrounged up a leftover sandwich from the staff lounge. A couple of slices of dry turkey on white bread with the saddest piece of lettuce I’d ever seen….the most delicious sandwich I ever tasted!

Audrey will always be my very best surprise ever. Even though she almost killed me the day she was born, she teaches me how to be better. I admire the way she stands up for herself fearlessly. Her keen observations pair magnificently with her creative problem solving. No matter how distressing life can get sometimes, all she has to do is flash those sweet dimples and all is well. She is one of the very best people I know. Happy birthday, Buttercup.

Thank you for reading, friends!! I hope you have a wonderful week!