Girl Talk, Life Lessons

Wonder Women

Here’s a re-post for all the wonder women out there!

Girl Power has created a whole generation of wonder women.  And I am grateful that so many of these ladies have had my back in times of crisis or as I was navigating a major life event.

I didn’t plan it that way.  It just sort of happened.

It started with the medical profession.  When my primary care physician was retiring, the doctor coming in as replacement was a young woman, just starting out.  I was told she was “good with women’s issues.”  She wasn’t just good, she was great.  Over the years, she referred me to a female ob-gyn, and a female surgeon who, in turn, recommended a female oncologist.  When it was time to pick an eye doctor and I could’ve gone with the stern-looking older gentleman with the bow-tie, or the gal who was my age and dressed in smart Talbots separates, who do you think I chose?  And yes, my dentist is also a woman.  The bottom-line: I am healthy today because of the collective skill, smarts, and compassion of all these women.

Now let’s talk money.  After working with several fast-talking, young, male financial advisors who left me confused and skittish about stocks and annuities, I got lucky and luck was a lady. My new financial advisor, a single woman like me, finally demystified the whole investing process and gave me confidence to boot.  Recently, I chose a well-known and successful Boston realtor – then a family member recommended an excellent real estate attorney, who in turn connected me with an accountant.  All three of these professionals are women and their collective acumen helped me move from a small condo to a house of my own.

I hope all this doesn’t sound like I’m anti-man.  Believe me, I like ‘em and I’m still hoping to marry one someday.  All I’m saying is that there’s a profound truth in that familiar quote about the iconic dancers Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.  She did everything he did, only backwards and in high heels.



Girl Talk

Shoe Purgatory

I am in shoe purgatory, and I wouldn’t wish it on any woman.

Just like the line in Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” …water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink, I am surrounded by shoes I cannot wear.

shoes, shoes, shoes

Back in October, I tore the meniscus in my left knee.  Fast forward a few months later and I’m wearing running shoes and a knee brace, as I hobble around with a cane, trying my best to avoid surgery.

At a follow-up appointment right before the holidays, I didn’t want to hear the orthopedic doctor’s description of the suggested surgical procedure to “go in and clean things up.”

All I wanted to know was, “When can I wear shoes?”

He pointed to my worn and grimy running shoes and said, “You are wearing shoes.”

“I mean real shoes,” I clarified.  “Women’s shoes.”

“You mean, like, high heels?”  He was finally catching on.  “Oh, you won’t be able to do that for many months.”

“Many months!” I chirped.  “But what about New Year’s Eve?  Can I at least wear shoes on New Year’s Eve?”

He seemed amused that I was so concerned about shoes.  These guys just don’t get it.  He hesitated a moment before shaking his head no.

I tried to bargain with him.  “What about ballet flats?”

“Well…okay.  Flats.  But only for a few hours and then you put the sneakers back on.”

“I promise.”

“When you do eventually start to wear shoes,” he continued, “you’ll need to wear shoes that have a full footprint, that are sturdy, and that don’t have a significant heel.”

So for the time being, I remain in shoe purgatory.

red poppy