March 7th, 2007 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
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Girl scout cookie season is upon us, and recently our office was swarming with youngsters taking cookie orders. I wasn’t sure which girl I should order from (one can’t really order from each of them and expect to maintain any semblance of a normal BMI) and as I was considering how to choose, one energetic little girl simply walked right up to me and asked if I’d like some cookies.
She was slim and blonde, with bright eyes and an honest face. I knew the “sales pitch” didn’t come naturally to her, and I tried to make it easier by joking a bit. She was shy, but on a mission. I asked her which type of cookie she liked best, and if her daddy ate too many of them. She was innocently pleased with the interaction and disappeared down a hallway near some cubicles.
Many weeks later a large delivery of girl scout cookies arrived. There was a mass distribution strategy in place with moms and girls cutting open cardboard boxes of cookies and delivering them to buyers. I asked if my cookies were on the list. They told me that they didn’t sell me the cookies, so I’d need to wait for the specific little girl who sold them to me to stop by.
About a week later, when I had assumed that my little girl scout had forgotten about my order (and the rest of our staff had well and truly gorged themselves on thin mints), her dad came into my office with a pretty bag tied with a ribbon and a hand written card from his daughter. He told me she asked him to deliver it personally, because she wanted her service to be different than the other girls. Her dad joked that he was trying to train her about “differentiators” but I was quite touched by the effort she had made to make me feel like a special customer.
Later that afternoon I sat down to write a thank-you card to the girl. I wanted her to know that her efforts made a difference, and that I noticed her hard work in making my cookie purchase a personalized experience (not just part of a bulk delivery service). I put some stickers on the card, I used colorful paper, and a big red envelope.
A few days later I asked her dad if she liked the card. This is what he wrote to me:
“She loved it. She saw it at breakfast and came screaming upstairs to show it to everybody. Thanks!”
That really made my day. I hope in some way that I’ve encouraged this little girl to continue to reach for excellence, to stand out in the crowd, and to know that her work is appreciated. It is this sort of attitude toward life that will help her grow up to be… a revolutionary.
This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
February 8th, 2007 by Dr. Val Jones in News
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My friends in the Revolution Weight Management Center asked me to blog about weight and relationships… at first I wondered if they were trying to stage an intervention or something: have I gained that much weight since I started working here? Ha ha. No, I haven’t… but maybe that’s because I have such a skinny husband?
As it turns out, research suggests that married couples are influenced by one another’s dietary habits. If you marry a person with poor eating habits, you are much more likely to adopt them yourself. Also, they say that marriage leads to more regular (read frequent), larger meals and increased financial pressures, stress levels and decreased exercise frequency.
Well, I guess choosing the right spouse has never been more important for weight control? Marriage doesn’t automatically lead to weight gain, but you should eye your boyfriend/girlfriend/fiancé(e) with suspicion at the dinner table. When I was dating my husband I noticed that he ate small portions, never finished his plate, and didn’t like dessert. He liked to run, had good sleeping habits, drank in moderation, and wouldn’t notice a super model if she fell in his lap. Sound too good to be true? I still ask myself that every day. They don’t make too many like Steve, I’ll tell you!
Anyway, I must confess that before our wedding I was in the best shape of my life, running about 20-25 miles a week, shunning all products containing high fructose corn syrup, and taking good care of my health. Now I exercise irregularly, sneak in rich dining experiences, and skip meals. I weigh about the same, but have (I’m sure) exchanged fat for muscle.
What do I make of this? Well, I need to force myself to go running again with my husband (he patiently runs at my pace as I lumber along next to his gazelle-like frame) and be more mindful of my eating habits. This is a never-ending battle for me, but it is made so much easier by having a supportive spouse who never deviates from good health practices.
So as Valentine’s Day approaches, observe your loved one’s eating and exercise habits with a critical eye. You are likely to be influenced by them more than you know. And for those of you who have a “Steve” in your life, thank your lucky stars, put down the box of chocolates, and show him how much he’s appreciated!
P.S. Steve would like to tell you that he (thanks to me) now enjoys dessert and craves ice cream from time to time. I guess my influence on him hasn’t been as positive.
This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
February 1st, 2007 by Dr. Val Jones in Opinion, True Stories
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My dad is 76 years old. He takes one baby aspirin a day and has no medical conditions. He looks about 10 years younger than his age, and his mind is sharp and clear. How does he do it?
I think the secret is the time he spent working on a farm. At age 40 he retired from his consulting firm in Manhattan and bought some land in rural Canada. Without realizing what he was getting himself into, my dad bought some cattle to work the farm. When winter came he had to keep the animals in the barn, and he soon discovered that each steer and cow produced its own weight in manure every 2 weeks (that’s about a half ton for those of you city slickers out there). So all winter long my dad shoveled manure. He did this for 35 years.
My dad now keeps fit with regular sit ups and push ups in the morning and long walks every day. But to me, the secret to his success was the shoveling. Life is full of little ironies – sometimes “crappy work” can result in amazing health benefits.
Although the New York Times wrote a fairly scathing review of my mom’s book about their adventures in shoveling (which ultimately led to a yogurt business) – I think my dad got the last laugh. Healthy and well, he can look forward to a long and enjoyable retirement. I wonder if the folks in Manhattan (who choose to spend their lives shoveling a less physically challenging BS) can say the same?
This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
December 28th, 2006 by Dr. Val Jones in True Stories
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Speaking from experience, back pain can be totally incapacitating. Several years ago I traveled to Colorado for my first ski trip in that beautiful state. As I was bending over to hoist my unimaginably heavy ski boot duffle bag over my shoulder, I suddenly felt a knife-like pain in my lower back. It took my breath away and I couldn’t stand up straight. My friends looked at me quizzically. I crawled into the ski lodge and lay on the floor, trying to understand what was going on. I assumed that the pain would pass in an hour or so… but three days later I still couldn’t really move. After some discussion with colleagues over the phone, I decided to call 911. My friend’s young kids were filled with glee as a firetruck pulled up to the lodge, and they brought in a stretcher to take me out. I felt like a total idiot – I hadn’t even hurt myself on the slopes. As a doctor I could imagine how eyes would roll in the ER when they heard: “32 year old female complaining of back pain after lifting her suitcase.” That doesn’t merit an ER visit, complete with firemen and ambulances, does it?
On my way to the hospital, tears filled my eyes with each jolt of the ambulance. I couldn’t control it, and I wondered if the ambulance team thought I was being a baby. I was stuffed inside an MRI machine soon after arriving in the ER, and the doctor who ordered it soon gave me the unexpected news: “everything looks just fine. Your MRI is normal.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was sure I had herniated a disk or ripped some muscles off my spine, or maybe I had burst a blood vessel in my spinal cord – or maybe I had cancer? Nope. Everything was normal.
I stayed overnight in the hospital – at one point I met the orthopedic surgeon on call. I could tell immediately that I was supremely uninteresting to him – nothing to operate on, give her some pain medicine and get her out of here! I just wanted someone to explain to me why everything was “normal” and yet each tiny movement made me whimper in pain.
Well, I wish I could tell you that I figured out the source of my pain, or that I found a miracle cure for it. As it turns out, it took about a month for me to move around comfortably again, nothing really helped the pain (vicodin made me sleepy and nauseated), and even now, from time to time I get a twinge of that old pain if I bend a certain way.
I guess what I learned is that pain is real – even if all the tests argue otherwise. And one thing’s for sure, I take all my patients’ pain complaints very seriously. “Throwing my back out” was the best education I could have had for my career in pain management.
Val Jones is a licensed practitioner of Rehabilitation Medicine and Senior Medical Director of Revolution Health’s portal. No information in this blog is intended to diagnose or treat any condition. The opinions expressed here are Val’s and do not necessarily reflect those of Revolution Health.This post originally appeared on Dr. Val’s blog at RevolutionHealth.com.
