Category Archives: Princess Rosebud

Word Of The Day: Bedridden

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I couldn’t think of anything to write today, so I looked at my recent situation and decided there was no other way to describe it: bedridden or bedbound.

From Pinterest

A bedbound person still retains some limited movement and can actively participate in their care, such as repositioning or feeding themselves. A bedridden person is completely confined to bed with minimal to no mobility, 

Let me reiterate and I’m not being melodramatic at all; shingles/herpes zoster is not something you can ignore.

Most things I don’t take very seriously; an injury, a fall, a brief bout of the flu or a sore throat, but THIS was lifechanging.

The pain is really indescribable, and now I understand why I felt paralyzed when I had it as a child; it’s really that overwhelming. I’d show you the photos I took of every stage of the rash that covered my entire right side, but it’s too gross to share.

For the past two weeks, I’ve literally not been able to walk, to move, to exist — without extreme torment, and that’s not an exaggeration. Waiting too long to inform my doc so that she could prescribe an antiviral was completely stupid of me.

Now that I’m nearing the end of this disease cycle, it’s time to reflect on what it means to be bedridden or bedbound, because for me, not being active is hell on earth.

Not being able to go for walks or work out is torture. I lay there in agony, thinking about how my muscles and joints were actively atrophying from disuse, and that just added to my depression. The garden suffered too, since I couldn’t water anything and we’ve had no rain for months. It looks sad and dismal, kind of how I feel.

The antiviral meds made me extremely fatigued, so I honestly couldn’t move no matter how badly I wanted to force myself.

I was bedridden, or more accurately, sofaridden, because the sofa was slightly more comfortable than my bed.

Spiritually, pain is widely viewed as a catalyst for growth, a profound teacher, or a signal of energetic imbalance. Rather than mere suffering, many traditions frame pain as an invitation to look inward, release resistance to change, and align more deeply with your authentic self.

I’m not too sure about that. What I have learned is to call for medical help sooner, to stop being so stubborn, and to get the shingles vaccine. No way I want to repeat this lesson. I got it. Message received.

How Do You Fall UP a Flight of Stairs? And Complications…

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What I thought was yet another stupid and avoidable injury has turned out to be more serious –and way more annoying.

I did pull a muscle in my lower back and groin, but there’s a new complication that’s really not fun.

Here’s how it all started and it involves stairs again…

Don’t ask me why, but I was running UP a flight of wooden stairs holding a box of trash in my hands. I was wearing flipflop type slippers which caught on one of the steps, causing me to fall forward in a very awkward and twisty position. I didn’t want to drop the box of trash so my left forearm took the brunt of the fall and it ended up cut, bloody, and bruised. The back pain started a bit later and like I usually do, I ignored it, but this time it got worse.

A few days later, my right thigh became numb to the touch, so along with the pain, this was a whole new weird symptom.

It turned out to be a groin pull accompanied by thigh numbness which might indicate nerve compression or a severe muscle tear in the hip region. It is often caused by irritation of the lateral femoral cutaneous nerve (causing outer thigh numbness)

It’s called Meralgia Paresthetica.This condition involves a pinched nerve where it passes under the groin ligament. Meralgia paresthetica is also known as lateral femoral cutaneous nerve entrapment. Moralgia paristhetica is basically a pinched sensory nerve near your hip crease. Apparently it’s not dangerous but it can be extremely annoying.

But it gets worse…

In the middle of the night, it felt like my left leg was being bitten by some sort of insect or a thousand insects. I jumped up and immediately turned on the light to check the sheets and my PJs for any signs of a bug, but there was none. What I saw was a very very itchy rash and wheals all the way down the inside of my leg. I figured it was a case of spontaneous urticaria (hives) or contact dermatitis, but I hadn’t changed my laundry detergent and the rash was localized to only one leg, so at that point, I was puzzled.

That’s weird, I thought to myself. I took Claritin and when that didn’t work, I took some Benadryl to stop the itching, and that just made me sleepy.

I found some PT exercises to work on the pinched nerve issue (do you know where this is going?) and that did offer some relief.

However, the pain was so overwhelming at night that I gave in and took some children’s ibuprofen and while it did help, ultimately it turned out to be a huge mistake because I really don’t tolerate Nsaids well, not at all.

And now this morning when I woke up, the outside of my leg was itchy and tingly, and when I looked, there was a cluster of the same red rash and wheals.

That’s when it finally dawned on me that this was no ordinary spontaneous urticaria–it looked suspiciously like the beginning of herpes zoster — SHINGLES!!

I also feel generally crappy and tired, not my usual peppy self. The rashes haven’t yet progressed to the gross stage of blistering, but a couple of them look angry enough, so I’m expecting the next phase…

Physical trauma or injury—such as a fall — can trigger shingles. When localized physical trauma stimulates a specific nerve, it can cause the dormant chickenpox virus, resting in nerve roots, to reactivate. This leads to a shingles outbreak directly at the injury site. (From NIH)

OMG.

I never had chicken pox, but when I was ten years old, I had shingles on the back of my left leg. My doctor called me a medical miracle because children don’t normally get this viral disease, but all I remember is being virtually paralyzed and in excruciating pain. I couldn’t walk, I was carried from room to room and even the lightest touch of a sheet was enough to make this little princess scream in agony.

I guess I’ll call my doctor tomorrow and have her prescribe an antiviral along with keeping my hands away from my face so I don’t inadvertently infect my eyes or mouth.

In case you’re wondering, I didn’t ever get the shingles vaccine because I thought I’d never get it again, but I might rethink that decision after this is all over.

Sign me unhappy in SoCal…

Another Happy Solar Return!

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Something to think about on the day of my birth, in addition to yummy cake and prezzies!

Listen up
Then just pipe down
Speak up
but don’t speak too loud

Don’t be dull
but don’t be wild
Be fun
but don’t act a child

Age gracefully
but don’t look old
Know your mind
but do as you’re told

Embrace your curves
but don’t get fat
Love yourself
but not like that

Know your worth
but not too much
Else they might feel
inadequate

Wear make-up,
look natural though
Stand your ground
but don’t say no

Choose the right path
but for who?
Right for them
or right for you?

Right for who
they’d rather see
Or right for
who you’d rather be?

Listen up
I’ll tell you this
This life of yours
is yours to live

Becky Hemsley 2023
Excerpted from: What the Wild Replied

Ancestral Acting: Josephine Victor

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When I told my mom I wanted to become a famous actress, she said it was in my blood and shared a story about my grand-aunt, Josephine Victor, who WAS a well known performer, often in productions at the Belasco Theatre on Broadway.

Josephine Victor

Josephine Victor (born Josephina Gunczler/Ginzler; June 28, 1885 – 1963) was a Hungarian-born American stage actress and director active on Broadway from 1905 to 1939.

Her father was a Hungarian vintner. The Ginzler family originated from the Tokay wine region, where viticulture played a central role in local economy and culture during the late 19th century.

Josephine had several siblings, including a half-brother, my grandfather, Rabbi Arthur Ginzler.

Known for her versatile performances in dramatic roles, Victor appeared in many Broadway productions, frequently as part of original casts in plays by prominent playwrights such as John Galsworthy and Elmer Rice.

Her career highlights include leading roles like Zabette de Chauvalons in Martinique (1920), for which she received praise for delivering a powerful and tender performance in the play’s pivotal second-act scene, and Chloe in Galsworthy’s The Skin Game (1920).

Later, she transitioned into directing, helming the Broadway production of Doctor X in 1931, and continued acting in sophisticated dramas such as Judgment Day (1934) as Lydia Kuman and Wise Tomorrow (1937) as Diana Ebury.

She also ventured into vaudeville, debuting at New York City’s Palace Theatre in 1921 in the one-act play Juliet and Romeo by Harry Wagstaff Gribble, where she co-headlined alongside Adele Rowland.

Victor’s personal life intersected with the theater world through her marriage to Francis E. Reid, a theatrical publicist and drama critic.

Victor’s combined directing and playwriting output, though limited in major productions, bridged her acting with creative authorship, fostering narratives that amplified immigrant voices and familial tensions in early 20th-century drama. Her works contributed to the era’s exploration of social undercurrents, paving subtle paths for women in theatre leadership during a male-dominated field

Widowed after Reid’s death in 1933, Victor’s contributions to American theater spanned acting and directing, cementing her legacy as a multifaceted figure in the era’s stage scene.

In her post-retirement years, Victor maintained a low public profile.

It’s interesting to observe that one sibling became a rabbi and another became an actress, as they are very different and also very similar careers, if you stop and think about it. Performing is performing, whether it’s for an audience or a congregation.

She died in 1963, and I’m not sure that my mom ever met her, but wish I had so I could have asked her when she got the acting bug and maybe I could have picked up a few helpful acting tips from her, as I didn’t really win many auditions or perform regularly, so I gave up that dream…

What Is a Mom?

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I’ve always thought that being a mom is a neverending labor of love.

After Angel Boy 2.0 was born, DIL coined the phrase, “Live to serve, serve to live”, and that became doubly true when Angel Girl 2.0 entered this world.

I think it’s sad that some mothers weren’t born with the unconditional love gene, and I wonder what their reasons were for even having children, because once you’re a mom, life ceases to be centered around SELF, and will instead be forever all about one’s children.

With all the rampant narcissism in this world, I grieve for the children who don’t experience heartgiving love.

But…Mother’s Day is all about ME, and I choose to extol my mommy-ness by agreeing with the original Angel Boy who claims the day for himself because, if not for HIM, I would have no reason to celebrate, and he’s right!

No matter how old he is, he’ll always be my very own angel boy.

And but for the original Charlotte, I wouldn’t be here, either, so Happy Mother’s Day to my very own always-missed-but-forever mom!

This is the perfect day to raise awareness about ALL mothers of all species.

We have the power to help mothers confined and abused on factory farms by adopting a kind and compassionate plant-based lifestyle. 

Did you know that the first few minutes after birth can mark the beginning of a lifelong bond between a mother cow and her calf? Cows carry their young for nine months and they nurse them for nine to twelve months, much like human mothers. Their babies don’t deserve to be stolen from their moms so humans can consume the milk that wasn’t ever meant for us.

Chicks bond so closely with their mothers that scientists call it “imprinting.” Mother hens take their chicks under their wings, providing protection and shelter, and chicks spend their first few weeks learning to scratch for food by watching the techniques of their mothers.

Pork producers confine mother sows in crates so small they can’t move without scraping against the rails.

Oh, and wolves are wonderful, caring, loving moms, too.

To paraphrase Maya Angelou, When we know better, we need to do better.

Go VEGAN.

Friday Tirade: Fevers and Gnats and Hammers

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Have you ever experienced the feeling that you had a fever but you actually did NOT?

Somehow, as careful as I am, I got sick. It started with heavy congestion and a headache along with a low grade fever, then it spiked to 101.5 as all the other aches and pains descended upon my body.

After a couple of days of not getting any worse, I decided that I didn’t need to see a doc because my lungs were OK and that probably meant that it was a virus and not a secondary bacterial infection that would necessitate antibiotics as I’m prone to pneumonia.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, except for a cough and this annoying feeling that I have a fever but the thermometer says otherwise. I think I would be feeling a lot worse if I hadn’t been vaccinated for Covid and the flu, so I’m grateful for that. Ginger tea and Tylenol seem to help.

At the same time, my indoor plants are inundated with fungus gnats. They’re joyfully procreating and multiplying and are SO annoying. I sprayed the soil with a hydrogen peroxide solution that’s supposed to help–fingers crossed that it actually does. I’ve never had an infestation this severe and I’m not really happy about it.

If that wasn’t enough to put me in a foul mood, neighbors decided to build an absolute monstrosity of a remodel that looks more like an apartment building as it looms over my house. The construction noise has been ongoing for MONTHS and right now I’m listening to incessant sawing and hammering and nail guns along with an air compressor that goes off and on, off and on, off and on.

Closing the windows doesn’t do anything to muffle the noise and that’s almost impossible to do as temps are consistently in the 70s, so I suffer either way. When people drive or walk by, they look up at the giant structure and shake their heads, so I know it’s not just me.

Because of the way the wind blows (literally), all the sawdust and other building detritus comes my way so the side of my house was covered in sawdust, along with nails and paper from the insulation. I asked the neighbors to let their construction people know about it so they could clean it up and that didn’t happen so I sent them some pics and again asked to have something done about it, which they finally did about a month later.

Is there a real pervasive lack of basic courtesy and consideration nowadays, or am I the only one who thinks that?

Does everyone live in their own little bubble and not comprehend–or care — how their actions might affect others? Was I unreasonable to expect them to (promptly) clear away their construction mess? It’s definitely NOT my job to clean up after them and you can’t tell me that they didn’t look down from the scaffolding and see what was going on below them. Yes, SCAFFOLDING, because, like I said, it’s a huge, multi-story monstrosity.

Anyway…

I can’t take it much longer…I think I might have to scream into a pillow. SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!

Lost Inside of You

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Did you know that Leon Russell wrote “Lost Inside of You” with the one and only Barbra Streisand? The hit song was recorded for the movie, A Star is Born, and that’s Leon on the soundtrack. He will forever be the one and only Master of Space and Time, a musical, visionary genius.

Barbra Streisand took on the lead female role of Esther Hoffman in the 1976 remake of the 1954 film A Star Is Born, opposite Kris Kristofferson as John Norman Howard, an aging singer engulfed by excesses and demons.

Howard’s road manager was portrayed by Gary Busey, a friend of and drummer for (as Teddy Jack Eddy) Leon Russell. Busey introduced Barbra to Leon, and while at her Malibu ranch, Barbra and Leon wrote “Lost Inside of You”.

It was included in the film, on the soundtrack, and as a B-side to Barbra’s single “Comin’ In And Out Of Your Life” from her 1981 hits album Memories. The soundtrack album has sold more than 15 million copies worldwide, and Memories did well with over 10,000,000 in sales worldwide, earning Russell loads of money in royalties as a songwriter. From Leon Russell Superstar in a Masquerade

I love knowing that Barbra Streisand collaborated with Leon and I love hearing him play the piano. I wish I had a photo of the two of them. One day, it would be my dream to chat with her about it.

A small anecdote about my six degrees connection to Barbra Streisand is that I once met and had lunch on set with her husband, James Brolin, when he did some filming locally. He was SUPER nice and welcoming. It was a special day and if you’re wondering, he’s even more handsome up close.

P.S. And did you know that Streisand’s co-star in A Star is Born, Kris Kristofferson, was married to Rita Coolidge, who was once upon a time Leon Russell’s girlfriend? Leon’s song, Delta Lady, was written about her. Cool info, huh?

Snow Day!

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This WordPress snow feature has always made my childsoul irrationally happy. For some reason, it was removed for a few years, but now it’s back, and it’s joyful!

I love snow…and it rhymes with crow!

Dust of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
Robert Frost

Another Day, Another Injury, Another Life Lesson NOT Learned

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I’m searching for whom or what I can blame for my latest stupid injury, like maybe Mercury Retrograde or the 11/11 portal?

I surely don’t think I would set an intention for — nor manifest — bodily damage, so I guess I’ll have to accept 100% of the blame for this one, which I knew was going to happen seconds before it did.

Here’s the scenario: I was planning to step off the deck, about a foot or so, onto some pavers. The wind had blown a small rug onto the pavers but at the same time that I chose NOT to bend down and remove it, I had the thought that there was a real and distinct possibility that I couldn’t see where I planned to step down, so I REALLY should take the two seconds to remove the rug — but I did not, and there I was, once again on the ground because I had not only awkwardly trapped my foot between two pavers that were obscured by that damn rug, but, as I fell, the edge of one of them hit me HARD at the exact location of my previous split-open shin, I then fell on my wrist (one I had broken a few years ago) and sprained the other ankle as it folded under me, an ungraceful vision, most definitely NOT a pretty sight; not princess-like in any way.

Ouch.

Covered in dirt and leaves, I sat there for a while like I always do, assessing the damage and shaking my head at my own stupidity.

The scar from before looks pretty angry and a bit bloody. There’s already a bump and a lump and is blooming some ugly bruises, but no broken bones this time, at least I hope not. I can live with the sprained wrist/ankle; at this point we’re old friends.

When will I ever learn?

Somebody once said “a definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” It’s been wrongly attributed to Einstein, but some people think it’s from Rita Mae Brown or a 1981 Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet.

Maybe insanity is not exactly my issue, but I hope one day I learn not to be so careless and impulsive about my personal safety.

Adult Regrets | Forever Young

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I’m not talking about the dark night of the soul burdensome self-condemnation kind of regret, but I was randomly thinking about how sad it is that when we grow up, people stop asking us who we’re going to be for Halloween.

There was always a great deal of excitement around this conversation, “Who are you going to be for Halloween?” or “What are you going to wear?”— whether we dressed as a witch or a ghost or a princess or a superhero or a pirate. It’s a way to step outside of ourselves for a couple of hours, to escape into an innocent fantasy.

Some might claim I’ve never grown up and that’s simply not true. There’s a difference between being childISHly puerile and one-dimensional as opposed to the open-hearted ability to discover and appreciate simple, joyful, childLIKE pleasures in life. That’s a good thing, in my opinion.

For Halloween, I’m never scary. I usually dress like a princess (of course) but next week I’m going to be a ballerina. I hauled out my sewing machine and made a longish sparkly pink tutu with a tulle overlay, reminiscent of Les Sylphides.

I’ll adorn myself with pink ballerina earrings (an unexpected treasure from Goodwill), my toe shoes and a tiara, so I’m really going to be a princess ballerina.

Je ne regrette rien. No regrets. Forever young.

Who are YOU going to be for Halloween?