My body, my identity

Four years ago today, my father, James Herman Hanson, left this word, about three weeks shy of what would have been his 84th birthday. If he's looking down from heaven at me, I think he'd be happy with what's happened in the last 18 months with my body, and my identity. After all, he deserves much of the credit for it. My dad never treated me, his daughter, like "Daddy's little girl," like a quasi-girlfriend, or like something he owned. He treated me as an equal, from the very beginning. My father modeled the way I want to be treated by all the men (and women) in my life, including my brothers, my bosses, my health care providers and yes, the many men I love and have loved, in many different ways. I want to be treated as a person who is competent and capable, as someone with something important to say, as someone to regard and not dismiss or patronize, as someone to take seriously, as someone who is not an eternal child just because she's female...

One year ago, I wrote this Facebook post.  Today, a twinge in my "operative" knee reminds me it's still true. How's my knee? It's actually behaving itself. I've had a long string of "good knee days" -- but folks, I don't take them for granted! Everything about our bodies -- our mobility, our senses, our strength, our minds, even our very lives -- are on loan to us. We are called to treat them with the best stewardship possible. But even if we do so, none of these things are ours to keep. Yeah, I get a little PO'd about that, but I work through it. God graciously listens to my rants.

June 27 is a day when I celebrate life and health -- by being mindful of how quickly life can change and how fragile health can be. This date fell on a Tuesday in 2000. At 6 p.m., I'd finished my shift at my day job. I was on my way to my car, chatting and chuckling with a co-worker, when all of a sudden my left arm went numb. I could walk, speak, read and write, but when I felt the numbness spread throughout my left side, it became clear that I needed an ambulance to take me to the ER. What I had was called a transient ischemic attack -- a small stroke. A ghastly series of tests at UW Hospital showed that a blood clot the size of a rice grain had traveled through a congenital hole in my heart that I didn't know I had, and lodged in the right side of my brain. Yes, I was overweight. But my weight didn't contribute to this condition. About one-third of the population, I was told, has this hole in the heart, from where the umbilical cord was while we were in the womb. It...

I've got a little time off work this week, so i plan to spend an hour of each day in my beloved pools -- the lap pool and/or the therapy pool. In my raving about my water time, I need to remind myself that the water may be my "happy place," but it isn't necessarily for other people. Yesterday I got an email from a Dubuque reader of my faith-and-values column in the Telegraph Herald, who asked about my work in the water. She recently had hip surgery, and said she would like to walk without pain, and enjoy her body as much as I said I enjoyed mine. This is what I told her about water therapy: It's not swimming, although the aquatic center that is my home-away-from-home has a lap pool as well as a therapy pool. The therapy pool, about 2.5 to 5 feet deep with 94-degree water, is not meant for swimming, but for standing, walking, balancing and gentle exercising. It's not a Jacuzzi, either. Some of my friends have joshed me about lolling around in the water wi...

Today, while I was out having my swim (AHHH!), I got a call from a friend who wanted to know how I accomplished my weight loss. Jay took the call, and he said the exact right thing, which was this: We're eating less and exercising more. Our portions are smaller. We're choosing foods that offer fuel, and not ballast. But what's right for us might not be right for you. There are any number of reasons why people carry more weight than they should, and any number of health conditions that might co-exist with obesity -- conditions like diabetes, heart disease or, in my case, mobility impairment stemming from osteoarthritis (worn-away cartilage) in my knee. For me, then, a high-impact exercise program would be an example of an approach to weight reduction that is right for some people, but not for me. Even now, I don't do well on exercise apparatus that requires me to be upright, such as a treadmill, stepper or elliptical. But a stationary bike, recumbent or upright, wor...

Today's blog is brought to you by Dove products, for all your bath and beauty needs. I use Dove soap for two reasons. One, it moisturizes my skin. And two, the brand has undertaken a vital project -- addressing the self-esteem of girls and women. I know the ultimate purpose of the Dove Self-Esteem Project is to sell more soap, deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, etc. But unlike other beauty product ad campaigns -- shallow and sometimes dangerous campaigns, in which women are told there's something wrong with the way they look, but don't worry, this product will fix it! -- the Dove campaign strives to tell women that beauty comes in all shapes, all sizes, all colors, all hair lengths and textures, and all temperaments. This is the first ad campaign in my memory that truly seems to "get it" -- that people, especially female people, must love themselves to live their lives as fully, and with as much fulfillment, as possible. When I was a girl, the adults in my li...

I've given considerable thought, especially recently, to why my previous triple-digit weight loss didn't become, as I'd intended, a permanent life change. It happened starting in 2000, after I experienced what turned out to be a minor brain attack. By the way, the brain attack had nothing to do with my excess weight. A blood clot traveled from my lung to my brain through a congenital hole in my heart. My left arm went numb, but my motor skills returned the next day. But I dropped the weight -- about 150 pounds by February 2002 -- to prepare myself for open-heart surgery to correct the defect in my heart. I was, at that time, roughly 10 pounds lighter than I am now. I loved being thinner and more athletic. I loved buying pretty clothes, some of them from thrift store racks. I loved being able to sit in a movie theater without chafing my hips. And I especially loved how the woman who guided my post-surgery exercise regimen -- a nice young woman named Vonda, at UW Health at...