Keira-anne.com

At the end of a brief doctor’s appointment yesterday, the conversation between my doctor and I turned to my epidermis. After a quick examination of my face, she commented that my skin was looking very healthy and asked if I use sunblock each day. “Yep, SPF 50 every day,” I answered. She laughed and I added that “I make a point of nagging my friends into using it too!”

Her smile disappeared and she said “well, you should probably share with them that they wouldn’t believe how many of my patients I’ve been seeing and diagnosing with skin cancer these days.”

In all seriousness, our skin’s wellness isn’t something we should be taking lightly. We eat right to stay healthy, exercise to stay fit and firm, take vitamins to ensure we’re getting out daily fill and wash our hands to avoid the flu at all costs. So why won’t we do the same for our skin?

I can’t deny that in my early 20s I would visit a tanning booth once in a while or ditch sunscreen for tanning oil. But that was then and this is now and I have come to the obvious conclusion that the health of my skin is important. Beyond the risk of skin cancer, damage to the skin is not reversible and once the sags and spots appear, there’s no turning back. And besides, what I look like in a bikini at age 50 is largely dependent on how I treat myself and my skin in a bikini today. I can be Helen Mirren or I can be Donatella Versace. It’s a no-brainer.

I get it. Sometimes a little bit of tone does look a bit better than the Casper the Ghost-like skin I’m usually rocking. Self tanning products have come a long, long way, my friends, and provide a deep and natural glow – often with a coconut kick. My personal favourite is Clinique’s Self Sun Body Daily Moisturizer for yummy colour. That said, you’re all out of excuses, so take care of yourself and your skin. Every day.

You’re worth it.

With the August long weekend only two sleeps away and temperatures maintaining skyrocketed levels, now is a better time than any to stay protected. While you’re at it, don’t forget to stay hydrated, stay cool and leave your pets at home. Temperatures inside your vehicle can reach 45+ degrees in only minutes and your canine companion can sustain permanent brain damage in as little as 20 minutes. For more tips on how to keep your fur baby cool during these hot, hot days, refer back to my summary from last year.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Having a pet in one’s life is something that can be incredibly rewarding. The unconditional love they offer springs from trust, appreciation and fierce loyalty. One of the most difficult parts of being a “pet parent” is when your animal is unwell or injured. Unlike a child that can tell you their tummy hurts or that they’ve stubbed their baby toe, a dog or cat will just get lazy all the while staring up at you with fearful eyes and dilated pupils. What’s wrong is anyone’s guess.

Around the middle of last week, Jordy started to display a behavior known as “scooting”, where he’d plunk his butt on the ground, lift his hind legs and propel himself forward with his front paws. Add to this the fact that I’d take him outside and he’d sit on the concrete rather than pee when it was time to go to bed, I knew something was wrong. By Friday morning, I felt a lump on his rump that was accompanied by some seepage. It was time to call the vet.

I always trust the great people at Yaletown Pet Hospital to deliver the best possible care to Jordy, so I was disheartened to learn their next available appointment was a week away. I stressed the severity of the situation and the fact that I suspected an infection, so they managed to squeeze an appointment in that very afternoon.

After a few minutes with Dr. Spooner, I soon learned that Jordy’s minor irriation was, in fact, a bacterial abscess on his rear end – likely caused by something he sat in or on. The sudden abscess was the size of a green grape under his skin and, left untreated, was likely to rupture outwards. My little guy was in obvious pain and discomfort which did nothing short of break my heart. After a quick expression (Google) to relieve some of the pressure, we were sent on our way with two weeks’ worth of antibiotics, painkillers and anti-inflammatory medication. I had instructions to hold a hot compress to Jordy’s behind four or five times a day to hopefully bring the swelling down and avoid a rupture. Should it reach that point, surgical lancing would be required.

It’s been four days and Jordy’s world has changed immensely. His rear end no longer looks like a battleground and instead has healed almost miraculously. The medications combined with rest and extra snuggle time has made all the difference for him. He’s back to playing, running, cuddling and generally acting like a little monkey.

Sometimes it’s really difficult to make decisions on my own regarding the health and welfare of my furry loved one. There’s no sounding board to hear me out, nor someone to tell me to chill if I’m overreacting. However, even a minute in pain and suffering is too much in my opinion, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. I want to thank the amazing staff at Yaletown Pet Hospital for not only taking my concerns seriously and finding a solution to Jordy’s ailment, but also for offering him the very best care he deserves. YPH is most certainly a prime example of how to treat your clients and customers – something I think we could all use a little bit more of.

Photo: BC-SPCA Biscuit Fund

In 2004, a scruffy but lovable dog named Biscuit was found wandering local streets. He’d been abused and repeatedly stabbed but somehow managed to drag himself into a garage. After being found by a family and rushed to an area veterinarian, Biscuit was nursed back to health through emergency care. The BC-SPCA created the Biscuit Fund in honour of this resilient little guy to raise funds for other sick and injured homeless animals.

March is ‘Sponsor A Cat Month’ with the Biscuit Fund. Donations are the primary funding source for all aspects of the BC-SPCA and the need for emergency animal care is steadily rising. In fact, the money spent in 2008 exceeded $2.4 million dollars. If you’d like to donate, please visit the BC-SPCA’s Biscuit Fund website. 100% of the donations are used to help the animals and are entirely tax-deductible. If you’d like to take a peek at some of the animals that have been helped by the Biscuit Fund, head on over to their Flickr site.

Pet overpopulation is a huge problem within British Columbia and around the world. When bringing a new cat, dog or other companion animal into your home, please give strong consideration to adopting from an animal shelter or rescue organization. There are countless animals waiting for your love and affection, and the more animals we bring into our homes, the less animals we’ll find fending for their lives on the street.

These are all things that I love:

Photo: yum9me on Flickr

And as of yesterday, no more. While not so apparent to most, I am well aware that I have indulged in more than my fair share of ice cream over the summer. Refined sugar has always been my nemesis, the one thing that always trips up any balance I try to achieve on the scale.

A co-worker and I pledged to say no to all sweets, treats and everything in between until November 1. If we slip up, the penalty is chugging a litre of water. It’s more difficult than you might think. Though that said, I already have two exceptions to make during that time and I’m fully prepared to get my chug on.

This is where you come in and help. Tell me some of your favourite sugar-free snacks so I can take the edge off from time-to-time without indulging in the devil’s condiment.

In 1946, a single log cabin was constructed by the newlywed Van Normans on a then-11 acre property along the shores of Parksville. Today the Tigh-Na-Mara Resort and Conference Centre is perhaps the best-known and most well-loved accommodation in the Oceanside region.

Now double its original property size, the Tigh-Na-Mara boasts over 192 log buildings nestled into towering trees. Did I mention this is where Rebecca and I stayed during our getaway to the Island?

Settled into a one-bedroom, top-floor condo, we had views of the local beach that were simply untouchable. Everywhere you go in the Parksville and Qualicum region, auburn Arbutus trees are reaching to the sky.

Guests of the Tigh-Na-Mara can choose either waterfront condos or singular cabins. Suites are complete with kitchens, jacuzzi tubs and – in our case – a king sized bed. The on-site Grotto Spa also features bungalow suites.

Locals will appreciate the names given to each of the condo structures. Rebecca and I stayed in the Ballenas lodge, named for Ballenas Island found just a few kilometres off the shores of Parksville. It also happens to be the name of the local secondary school.

Next time I’m choosing a cabin – I couldn’t help but be reminded of the John Candy classic The Great Outdoors. Thankfully there were no raccoons causing a mess of the trash cans.

Six years ago the Tigh-Na-Mara expanded by adding what is now the largest resort spa in British Columbia and, in my opinion, simply stunning.

Featuring a full line of European esthetic products with an array of cosmetics, nail polish and locally-crafted wood burl art, the Grotto Spa offers a full menu of uniquely designed spa treatments.

It should go without saying that The Grotto Spa’s pièce de résistance is undoubtedly the mineral pool for which the spa is named. With a two-storey waterfall and a healing blend of various mineral salts, the spa’s grotto is a place to escape, relax and restore.

While I couldn’t snap any pictures (in an effort to respect the privacy of others), I can tell you that Rebecca and I each blissfully enjoyed the Pacific Body Balancing Treatment. Beginning with a yummy sea salt and green tea blended full-body exfoliation, we rejuvenated our skin with a thermal body wrap, a hydrating facial treatment and finished with an all-over body butter massage.

The irony is that I never normally feel relaxed in spa environments – when you’re alone with your thoughts, all you can do is think. At The Grotto Spa, however, it was the first time I actually fell asleep during a treatment, waking only to wipe drool from my chin.

Okay, so here is where The Grotto Spa gets really unique. On the third floor of the building is a relaxation lounge as well as the Treetop Tapas & Grill. “Robes and sandals only” is the requirement, and spa-goers can dine on detoxifying tapas created with specific health benefits in mind.

Perhaps not the healthiest choice, I started our journey through “endless tapas” with a Tigh-Na-Mara Sour, consisting of lime and amaretto blended with ice. SO. GOOD.

First up: wilted spinach in a buttermilk dressing with seared portobello mushrooms and phyllo.

Olive and artichoke antipasto with the best fresh-baked bread sticks I have ever had in my entire life.

Greens with cherry tomatoes, bocconcini cheese with a light pesto dressing. Apparently I am no longer allergic to pine nuts.

Grilled flat bread with local goat cheese and caramelized onions. Commence drooling.

Flaky pastry tart stuffed with local blue cheese.

Vanilla bean pudding-style tart with fresh-picked raspberries for dessert…

…only to be followed by a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese icing.

Did I mention a delectably delicious walnut tart with vanilla ice cream?

With our stuffed bellies and restful bodies, Rebecca and I floated back to our suite in time to catch what I thought was the most amazing sunset over the region.

That was, of course, until 20 minutes later when I discovered that the sunset became even more stunning.

And after a solid sleep, I awoke blinded to see the sun rising over a low-tide beach. There is absolutely nothing like sea air to awaken your senses in the morning – not even a strong java can compare.

Ready for more food? Ever after the “endless” tapas the night before, Rebecca and I found ourselves in the Tigh-Na-Mara’s Cedar Dining Room for breakfast. I was tempted by and gave in to the apple and cranberry french toast with orange cinnamon butter and maple syrup. No regrets.

Normally when on vacation, the hotel is essentially just a place to sleep and shower when the day’s adventures are over, but the pet-friendly Tigh-Na-Mara is an adventure all in itself. With kids’ programs and babysitting, a swimming pool, gift shop, cappuccino bar, bike rental, multiple beach accesses, numerous dining options and, of course, The Grotto Spa, once hardly needs to leave the property.

UPDATE: Be sure to read Rebecca’s re-cap of our heavenly stay at the Tigh-Na-Mara here.

Tigh-Na-Mara Seaside Spa Resort and Conference Centre and The Grotto Spa are located at 1155 Resort Drive in Parksville, British Columbia. The resort is most easily found by taking exit 46 off Island Highway 19; from there, look for the signs. For more information and to book your next trip (or spa treat!), visit the Tigh-Na-Mara’s website or The Grotto Spa’s website.

Sometimes I’m a skeptic, sometimes I’m not. What I know that I always am is an open-minded person, and that means I’m usually willing to give anything a shot at least once. A recurring theme in my life lately is “taking care of me” because my needs have spent far too much time on the back burner in recent years.

Photo: topher76 on Flickr

A couple weeks ago, my friend Lindsay suggested I might try some reiki and/or quantum touch healing as one way of taking care of my physical self. Like her mum, Lindsay practices reiki and quantum touch healing, and at that point, I was willing to give anything a try. I happily accepted Lindsay’s offer and set up my first appointment with her.

While I wish I could recall more of my treatment, the truth is that I spent much of the hour lulling in and out of sleep in a deep, deep slow down. That intensity of relaxation is something that I have truly never experienced before. We all know the feeling of rest that occurs after a long day and we finally flop down onto our beds. With the reiki treatment, I was actually able to identify the deep relaxation in my knuckles, my elbow joints, my wrists, my knees and all the other hard-working parts of my body I take for granted.

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Original Photo: That Guy Who’s Going Places on Flickr

Beginning March 1st, Lindsay will be bringing her reiki practice to True Health Studio in Kitsilano on Sundays (for now). Attuned and taught by Reiki Master Jayne Hunter in Truro, Nova Scotia, this is Lindsay’s fifth year of practice. Lindsay’s husband, Mike, was attuned to reiki in October, 2008 and will be teaming-up with Lindsay in her practice at times. It’s important to bear in mind that reiki isn’t intended to replace medical practices, but even registered nurses are learning to administer reiki as it’s shown to be effective in supplementing and speeding up healing times.

Appointments with Lindsay are approximately 45-60 minutes each, with your first treatment costing $70 and subsequent treatments for $60. As a special introductory offer to reiki, if you contact Lindsay either by e-mail or by calling True Health Studio at (604) 221-8783, mention this blog post, and book your initial treatment before March 31st, your second treatment is free of charge.

Click here to learn more about reiki, and here to read more about quantum touch.

Beach bum at Great Slave Lake, N.W.T.

Eastern Europe in the 1920s was less than glamourous, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a time of great beauty. On July 11, 1924, a sunny summer day in Poland, a baby girl was born. Her name was Hildegard “Hilda” Willemina Korber, one of nine children born to a poor farmer and his wife. As she and her brothers and sisters grew up, they all learned the value of hard work and the importance of family while relying on strength and resilience to get them all through the Second World War. Despite her humble beginnings, however, her loveliness was not lost on everyone – and certainly not on one young man from Czechoslovakia.

Fishing at Great Slave Lake, N.W.T.

When Hilda and Karl first met each other in their 20s, it was love at first sight – for Karl. Being that he was four years her junior, Hilda was largely reluctant and refused his advances and declarations of love. Karl moved to Canada and found himself working both in Ontario and the Northwest Territories, saving up every penny he earned.

Finally, after four long years, Hilda agreed to marry Karl and found herself in Canada in the late summer of 1954 at the age of 30. Three months later, they were married and embarked on a lifelong journey of love together on November 3, 1954. The newlyweds set up a home in Yellowknife where Karl worked in local mines while Hilda tended to their small but snug home. It didn’t take long to add to their duo, and almost to the date of their one-year wedding anniversary, Katrina Elizabeth Chalupa was born. Less than a year later, Anne Mary Chalupa came long.

Katrina grew up and became my mom, Anne grew up and became my aunt, so naturally Karl and Hilda were affectionately known by me as Opa and Oma.

Anne Mary Chalupa, Hilda Chalupa, Katrina Chalupa (Yellowknife, circa early-1960s)

Last night I picked up the phone to call my mom and pick at her memory. As I’ve been making my way through changes in my life, self-discovery and attempting to pinpoint the issues that impact who I am today, I’ve realized that reconnecting with my past is an important part of that process. There is perhaps nothing as unique as a daughter’s relationship to her mother, and also to that mother’s mother. I wanted to know more about my Oma, I wanted my mom to remember and I wanted her to share with me what all three of us ladies had in common.

Katrina Chalupa and Hilda Chalupa (Yellowknife, circa mid-1960s)

My Oma was a woman with a great deal of love for her daughters and much devotion and respect for her husband. She was deeply sympathetic and sensitive and had a tendency to cry easily, much like my mother and I. Another characteristic that passes through all three of us is the deep-seated desire to nurture. As I have grown into a young woman, I have become predisposed to overfunctioning.

Overfunctioning is a frequent trait of eldest children and is generally a learned behavior. It tends to be what happens when one is either consciously or subconciously expected to set positive examples, take care of everything and everyone, all the while “keeping it together” without showing any sort of vulnerability. While overfunctioning isn’t necessarily a negative characteristic, the pendulum of this behavior can easily swing too far in the wrong direction, as it has in my life.

Keira-Anne, Hilda Chalupa (Port Hardy, circa early-1980s)

After talking with my mom at great length last night, it started to become more clear how this pattern – my “normal” and natural way of dealing with anxiety – has developed through the generations. As a young girl in Poland, my Oma was expected to work hard, contribute to the household and most likely had to often look out for herself in a home of 11 people.

When my mother was a child, she often took care of many of the younger neighbourhood children, paid attention to them, played with them and even walked many to and from school. As my mom grew older and eventually became a married woman, she would often find herself in the position of being the responsible adult in the marriage – as many women frequently do. Before long, overfunctioning became her survival tactic and this behavior was inevitably passed on to her first born daughter, yours truly.

Photo: tempest_kat on Flickr. Katrina Mellis, Keira-Anne (Vancouver, circa 2008)

While many of the deck’s cards are stacked against me as a chronic overfunctioner, restoring balance to my life is possible. I am willing to do the work. We overfunctioners have a tendency to be resistant to change and have an incredibly difficult time remaining objective and level-headed in times of high anxiety. The bottom line, however, is that if I am overfunctioning all the time for others, I am underfunctioning for myself.

Modifying my behavior – a behavior that simply isn’t working for me – will be a constant, lifelong challenge. There’ll be setbacks coupled with achievements and times when I don’t see the point in changing. The work, however, is anything but disheartening. Though facing up to who I truly am, the good and the bad, may not always be pretty, I’m unearthing a great deal of beauty and freedom in reconnecting with my past and the amazing people that helped impact the woman that I am today.

I’m starting to notice a phenomenon.

On Saturday I went to the gym for my circuit training class, and because I had left my iPod at home, snatched up a tattered copy of Elle Canada to read on the stairclimber. As I flipped through the pages – some stuck together – I came across what is your typical Q&A column where women had written in with their various relationship problems, seeking words of wisdom.

As I scanned over first the questions and second the answers, I was amazed. “Do these women really believe that this is what they’re supposed to do to fix what’s wrong?” Some of the so-called advice astounded me in its absurd logic.

Photo: jamielondonboy on Flickr

Several hours later, I found myself wandering the downtown Chapters with a friend. While her and I both managed to grab a cheap beach read for ourselves, we browsed the store since we had nowhere else to be. By the time we reached the third floor – and often dreaded self-help section – I couldn’t help but notice the large volume of books dedicated solely to women and their “dysfunctional” relationships.

As I scanned over titles such as the classic Men Are From Mars… Women Are From Venus, Why Men Love Bitches and the soon-to-be movie He’s Just Not That Into You, I noticed more than their splashy, brightly coloured covers. Not only were these books aimed to sucker in hurting women everywhere, they all smelled of complete bullshit.

Heartache and heartbreak are great for the economy.

Photo: mollybob on Flickr

I turned to my friend and reiterated to her what I’d thought just hours before at the gym: “Seriously, do women read these and consider them the Holy Grail of relationship advice? I think that’s unfortunate.” Why do I think it’s unfortunate? Any back covers or inside pages I scanned for their purported insight all point to the same issues – that women screw up, pick the wrong men and just need to find “the right kind of guy” instead of the so-called toxic ones.

How about this instead? Women don’t always screw up (but neither do men), sometimes we don’t always consciously “pick” the ones we do and just because a man is broken doesn’t mean he isn’t “the right kind of guy.” Perhaps instead of trying to change how women relate to potential suitors in their lives, they need to re-think how they relate to themselves.

Less of We, More of Me

As women, we have the right to feel empowered, the right to take care of ourselves and the right to make the best choices as we see fit. Playing the blame game gets no one anywhere, so perhaps it’s time to take responsibility for our own actions and choices. Some are so quick to label men as “toxic,” but if that’s true, then we as women are equally capable of being toxic.

Focus on yourself, on your growth and your development. Instead of over-thinking and overanalyzing the differences, I think it’s time to instead appreciate the delicate distinctions between men and women and how we all function – within relationships and, more importantly, as individiuals.

I work at a fast-paced law firm, so handling mass quantities of paper on a daily basis can be expected. Between preparing case citations, legal arguments and client documents, it should come as no surprise that receiving a wicked paper cut happens on at least a weekly basis. While I generally have a high pain tolerance, I won’t deny a momentary whimper and an instant of feeling sad for my poor little finger when it happens.

As I arrived home Friday afternoon and proceeded to think about the tiny slice that had struck me across my left palm earlier that day, I recognized a blatant correlation between paper cuts and my loss of objectivity through anxiety attacks.

Like a paper cut, losing objectivity through anxiety is generally caused by something small and mostly insignificant – not unlike a piece of paper – and yet feels as though it causes a great deal of damage instantly. The second the pain hits, it’s seemingly excruciating when, in reality, it’s just a tiny nick that will likely be mostly healed over and forgotten within hours. In the moment, however, getting our minds off the pain seems next to impossible.

Photo: Angie Torres on Flickr

Friday afternoon and later that evening were times of high anxiety for me. Some of it was likely fueled by the margaritas, but most of it sprung out of the monumental personal work that I’ve been toiling through. After what I felt to be a major breakthrough in counselling two weeks ago, I was sure that I had since acquired a great deal of “infinite wisdom.” In my mind, I presumed that because I’d found the root of my problems, my issues would no longer be issues with me. I could not have been more wrong.

Not long before that work day ended, I found myself with an emotional paper cut and soon after felt so angry at myself for failing the first test. What I instead realized was that I didn’t fail my first test – feeling anxiety is a perfectly normal response. What I did with that anxiety dictated whether I passed or failed.

I can choose to have a freak-out, lash out or overreact. Or, I can choose to shed a few tears because of the intense emotional state, step back and ask myself a few grounding questions:

Normally when I breathe a few breaths and question myself, the answers become rather clear. And while I truly am starting to find the answers that I’m looking for, it’s not as simple as I bargained for. I’m starting to realize that much of how I react or behave is rooted in past emotional issues. The truth is that our emotional issues generally must be processed up through the generations so that they won’t impact our current circumstances or be passed down through the generations.

Now comes the huge task of reconnecting with those issues and finding the teenaged Keira-Anne again.

Ice cream. I started craving it on Sunday evening and was desperate for the taste of a mint chocolate chip dance on my tongue. As it turns out, I wasn’t the only one yearning for it, so yesterday after work I found myself at Marble Slab Creamery with Rebecca.

After polishing off a Skor caramel waffle bowl stuffed with vanilla ice cream, cookie dough and Crispy Crunch bits, I found myself at home around quarter to five. All I could think about was having a bubble bath, but some reason, decided to first check my e-mail.

Panic! Around 4:40 I received an e-mail from my counselor that said nothing more than “I hope you’re okay. I know we re-scheduled to meet today at 4:30, so I hope everything is alright.” I freaked, called in a hurry and was out the door in a flash. Thankfully she had no clients to meet with after our appointment and was in her office doing work anyways. I made it there in exactly half an hour.

Since the last time I met with my counselor, more personal growth and realizations have happened than I bargained for. In truth, I’m still feeling immensely overwhelmed at the work ahead of me, but I also feel an equal part of optimism at the change it will bring in how I function. Not only do I have a clear understanding of what has to change, I also feel ready to do this. I’m not willing to shove it in a drawer and forget about it or procrastinate and do a half-assed job.

One notion that has recently occurred to me is the simple fact that change is possible. I know that I have issues and you have issues and she has issues and he has issues, but for some reason I always just assumed that was a part of life and we all have to “just deal with it.” I never considered the fact that behaviors can change, reactions and outcomes can play out differently and anxiety can be managed. That idea in itself is freeing.

Photo: AYUMi ~ PHOTOGRAPHY on Flickr

I have every intention of making a regular habit of tracking my progress through writing on my blog, sharing some of what I struggle with and being realistic about what it looks like. Much of the grief I feel over my dad has, I believe, been suppressed over the last decade, so revisiting it again could prove to be very interesting. However, the more active I remain in this healing, the more progress I will make – and that is something to be excited about.