Posted in breast cancer, commentary

I AM IN HMO HELL

Posted on by sassysheisme

I have not blogged in a couple of weeks because Dante left a very important vestibule out of The Inferno. He left out the ever dreadful HMO.

Important abbreviations for this story:

HMO = Hideous Medical Overkill (but it is better than nothing)

PCP = Primary Care Physician

OB/GYN = Doctor who cares for the exclusively female parts of you

First of all, let me say that I have been blessed to have had relatively good health for the past ten years. Therefore, I haven’t had to spend time in a hospital unless it was to visit someone else. I haven’t had any surgery, any major health malfunctions, or any prolonged illnesses. Therefore, I haven’t had to venture out into the world of HMO. I visited my PCP when I had insurance for all my minor ailments, and that was that. No red tape. No hassles other than trying to get an appointment on the day I was actually sick.

After five years with no coverage at all (another vestibule Dante forgot to mention) I managed to get some medical coverage through my current job. I chose the HMO because it was free to me and, as stated in the prior paragraph, I had yet to venture beyond my PCP. Once I had insurance, I waited a few weeks, then scheduled an appointment with an OB/GYN (and you don’t want to know how long it had been since my last visit to an OB/GYN). Those initial tests came back clear. Good news. Cholesterol, good. No abnormalities. We take the next step and he tells me to schedule my baseline mammogram… and this is where my journey into HMO hell begins.

I go for the initial mammogram on November 4th. Bothersome, annoying, irritating, yes, but not the painful experience everybody tried to prepare me for. I had to go to a diagnostic clinic for the exam which means means they do the test and the reports get sent back to the doctor. Fine. They told me that if I had not heard from my doctor in a week, to call him. He should have my results no later than a week after the exam. Got it.

Three weeks, dozens of phone calls and a boatload of confusion later, my doctor finally had the results. His immediate response was to schedule an ultrasound back at the diagnostic clinic. No explanation of why, just that I should go.

Initially, this was not what I wanted to hear, I wanted him to say, “looks good, you’ve beat the family curse,” and I would move on with my life triumphantly, but instead a tiny alarm bell started tolling in the back of my mind. I made an appointment for December 9th, the first I could get.

I arrived bright and early that morning and did my crossword puzzles while other names were called for a myriad of other appointments and ailments. Then, before the ultrasound, a technician pulls me out into the hallway and said she read my initial report and wants to do a “spot” mammogram. This is a mammogram concentrated in one area with much more compression and the horrorific pain everyone tried to prepare me for the first time. While I waited for all this fun to begin, I tried to keep myself calm, wondering why nobody would tell me why I was having this test done. In the back of my mind I knew, I just wanted someone to tell me. Spell it out. Keep me in the loop.

Back to the spot mammogram. Ouch. Several times. At one point, the technician told me to pick a point on the wall to focus on and to brace myself for some pain. As if I hadn’t had any already, but I took her advice. I spotted a calendar on the wall and stared at it while she nearly flattened my breast into a pancake. I can’t tell you what the picture was on the calendar, but I can tell you that it said, “My peace I give to you,” at the bottom. I kept telling myself not to cry. At this point, though, I was on autopilot, so it wasn’t so bad. Then I went back out to the second waiting room and then they came to get me for the ultrasound.

The room was dark and the nice technician chatted away while she worked. Then she was abruptly silent. I saw the screen and saw what she saw. She covered the area again and then stopped to take images. Several images. The spot looked about as big as a quarter. Not comforting. Given my family history (maternal grandmother, mother, 3 of 4 aunts) I said, “That can’t be good can it?” and she said she couldn’t say anything either way. She told me to “relax,” and then she left the room.

I lay there in the dark and wiped away a tear. I was overly emotional that day anyway (my brother’s 39th birthday would have been that day) and the fact I was having a breast ultrasound made me think of many painful memories of how cancer can hit unexpectedly and rob even the young of their once vibrant lives. I took deep breaths and told myself I was okay, and for me, kept relatively calm instead of letting my mind get completely out of control. Though I can easily jump to panic mode, I was calm, certain that I wasn’t alone. I kept thinking of the calendar, “My peace I give to you.”

The technician came back with a doctor in tow. He looked at the ultrasound, nodded at the screen and said, “I am recommending a biopsy.” He shook his head again. “How could you not feel that?” I took a deep, shaky breath and he clarified quickly, “oh, it looks benign, but with your family history, we can’t be too careful now, can we?” Apparently not. Then he asked, as if I hadn’t heard him the first time, “How did you not feel that?” I don’t know. I’ve been doing breast self exams since I was a teenager. I didn’t feel this lump. I still can’t feel it to be honest.

The diagnostic clinic people tell me it takes 24-48 hours for a report to be made, filed, and transfered. Ok. Now I’m in for more drama as I try to communicate between the OB/GYN’s office and the diagnostic clinic over the next 24 hours. Words like, “surgeon,” “biopsy,” and “referral” mixed with, “we don’t have that yet,” “I don’t know what the doctor’s going to do,” and “I can’t tell you that.” I got so frustrated with being the one having to mediate between the two offices and even more frustrated with my inability to find out ANYTHING worthwhile, that I finally made an appointment with my OB/GYN that Monday (13th).

I took that entire day off. I was mentally drained, and I had been fighting a sinus infection and had been running fevers off and on for a week. I just wanted answers and figured if I had the doctor’s attention for five minutes, I might at least understand more of where I was in this process. I hadn’t done any of this before, and I wanted someone to take my concerns seriously.

I was glad I took the whole day off, for they moved my morning appointment to 2 pm. I saw the doctor for about five minutes and all he said was the report didn’t look bad, they just wanted a biopsy because of my family history, blah, blah, blah. Same thing I was able to piece together from words the four people I saw on the Thursday before were tossing around. He said he was sorry everybody was overreacting but with my family history I should expect this every time I get a mammogram. They will probably always find “something,” that will need further review. He wasn’t worried and even seemed to wonder why I was there. I told him I was in his office to get some answers because nobody would tell me anything in a complete sentence and that’s not how it should work. Silly me. Finally, he gave me some antibiotics because I told him that I could cope with all that was happening so much easier if I wasn’t so sick otherwise. He said he would refer me to a surgeon, but that his scheduler wasn’t there and to call her in the morning.

I called in the morning and of course she had no idea what I was talking about. She was still thinking back to Friday when I was worried the diagnostic clinic would not get my records to the their office on time. She was up to speed but then my OB/GYN was out of pocket for two days and all we needed was the name of the surgeon. I was growing more weary of how the people in the HMO machine were treating my concerns. Okay, so it looks benign, but that doesn’t mean I want to wait another month to start the process to find out whether or not it is benign or not. UGH

I finally got the doctor to refer me to a surgeon Thursday (16th). One week had already passed since the ultrasound. Too bad the surgeon isn’t in my HMO! The only two doctors he refers to aren’t on my plan. The OB/GYN receptionist said, “look through your HMO for a general surgeon and call us back and we’ll ‘refer’ you to him.”

I thought, “This ‘referral’ will keep the insurance chain of command going, but I am in HMO hell!” I asked the sweet lady in personnel to see what she could do to help with this problem. I don’t have a clue as to how to “pick” a surgeon. She tinkers around on the insurance website and it spits out 185 names of general surgeons in my HMO.

Beyond frustrated with how long and how difficult this process had become, I took a long walk around the church. I stopped to “talk” to my favorite babies in the daycare (the 9-12 month olds) who cheer me up whenever I see them (who can resist smiling at a kid who can put his whole foot in his mouth), and talked to a couple of people who have actually had this procedure done and asked which doctor they used. Another friend came down, looked over the list and circled the name of a doctor she’s worked with and he has a great reputation. I brought the doctor list home for my nurse roomie to look at and Friday night our doctor friend was over and he looked at it and made some suggestions as well. That helped to narrow the choices down.

I don’t think it’s being too picky to want at least one person to know something or have experience with one of the surgeons, because I just don’t like having to pick someone at random to stick a big needle in my breast.

Thursday night, I took a benedryl, checked out at 9:30, got a good night’s sleep and got my allergies under control. The antibiotics started working, so I felt so much better. I took a day off from the doctor drama on Friday. I finally got a “grip,” and I was feeling much more at ease. I don’t know why I expected it to last.

I took all that information and started calling doctors this morning (the 20th), and their earliest appointments were in the middle of January. Not what I wanted to hear. I finally contacted the surgeon who has done this procedure on a lady I work with and he had an appointment for a consultation on Monday morning (the 27th). The receptionist was beyond nice. I told her my story and she was very sweet and took my concerns seriously and found me the earliest appointment possible. I booked that appointment. Then she tells me I have to get the referal from my PCP for a procedure like that. The receptionist at my OB/GYN agreed when I called her back to verify the referal process.

By now, I’m confused, I thought the OB/GYN referal would be enough, but I ask personnel and she says, yes, that’s correct, call the PCP. The PCP will not do this by phone but they will write up a referal if I come in and see my PCP tomorrow morning. More copays. I am really loving the red tape I’m stuck in at this point. I’m grateful I don’t have anything urgent wrong with me. And by the way, I have to go pick up my ultrasound pictures at the diagnostic clinic and take them to the doctor with me Monday. I still have no idea when I’ll have the actual biopsy.

Don’t get me wrong. So far, I’ve spent less than $100 and had many tests and office visits. Without the insurance, this lump would have gone undetected for Lord knows how long. I just had no idea how complicated the HMO made my healthcare and I had no clue how frustrating this process would be. I also know this is mild compared to how complicated it could have gotten. I know when it’s all said and done, I will get the biopsy results back and the lump will be benign. Everything will be, as they say, all good. The journey between points A & B, however, will have been an enlightening tour through HMO hell.

Too bad Dante didn’t warn us.

Posted in vacation

VACATION

Posted on by sassysheisme

Not only did I take a vacation from blogging, I actually had a week off from work. A very relaxing week, though I did not actually leave town. I had a loaner car (my car is parked for at least another week) so at least I could leave the house and get some things accomplished.

Monday, the official start of my vacation, was very relaxing. Houston was on the tail end of a week of downpours, but the sky was dark and the rain kept falling all day. I went to the Galleria, a mall so spectacular, it is on the official list of things to see in Houston. The mall houses all types of stores, but in Galleria I, the second floor has many designer shops including Armani, Jimmy Choo (where a pair of sandals is a bargain price of $450), Versace and more. The rest of the mall is for regular folks like me. Ha ha.

I arrived at the mall an hour before the stores opened. I got a good parking space, which was great, because I was driving a loaner car (a 1990 blue Thunderbird) and I wanted to make sure I could find when I came back out.

First, I stopped at the post office on the food court level to get some stamps and ask about airmail. The lady was nice and very talkative, something I rarely find at the post office, unfortunately. We talked about her son, who is in high school. Apparently, he keeps turning down scholarships and educational opportunities because, “he might not want to be a doctor,” or he might not “go into science.” She is very frustrated with him, and I can understand that. He won’t even check out these opportunities. I’m not saying that this kid has to know what he wants to be right this very second, but how will he know if he doesn’t want to go into science if he doesn’t try it out first? I’m afraid this is a boy who will wake up in a few years and kick himself for not taking these opportunities.

Since it was still early, I went to the ice rink to watch some skaters practice. In one end of the ice rink is a three story Christmas tree that the skaters must maneuver around. There were four young girls there that early, and I suppose since they were of school age, for the holiday, they got a “late” practice (most schools close the entire week of Thanksgiving here in Houston).

One girl in particular was working on her arm movements as she did her jumps. In her hip pocket was a pad of sorts, to cushion her as she fell, and she fell many times. She looked to be 12-13 years old, and had great enthusiasm during the entire practice. She had a very patient and fun loving coach, and as a result, she was having a great time and by the end of practice nearly had the arm movements down.

Another girl, a bit younger, maybe 10 or 11 years old, had a very grouchy, stern coach. I could tell this was a girl who really enjoyed what she was doing, she bounced right back up when she fell, and she smiled when she made mistakes. The coach, however, was not so nice. She scolded the girl for laughing and she rarely praised her when she did get soemthing right. I felt sorry for the little girl. Unless she gets some encouragement, this coach will kill her joy and after the joy is gone, she’ll most likely quit.

I think you’ll have a better chance of seeing girl #1 in competition someday because her coach keeps it fun, yet disciplined.

As I waited the last fifteen minutes before the stores opened, I saw some power walkers who should have said no to the spandex they were wearing, Then practice was over and I started to peruse the shops.

Later that day, I got my hair cut, went grocery shopping and bought my first turkey, and it stopped raining. A very good day.

Tuesday, I went to lunch with a friend of mine who was visiting from Missouri. I didn’t get to talk to her as much as I liked, but it was good Chinese food and we laughed and had a good time. Then I took my friend C (whom you can read about our great emergency room adventure here: Adventures in Emergency Room ) to the new IKEA which just so happens to be next door to the Chinese restaurant. We spent over 2 1/2 hours exploring almost every chair and gadget in the store. It was fun, and we escaped the torrential rains by staying indoors.

Jene’ and I watched Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban. All in all, a good second day of vacation.

Wednesday, Jene’ and I went to Target to pick up U2’s How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, which was on sale for $9.99. They were out, so I got a raincheck for the price and we continued to shop. We went to Ross, and then went home…watched Prisoner of Azkaban again.

Thursday, had great Thanksgiving feast for two. Watched the Indianapolis Colts pummel the Detroit Lions while chopping potatoes. Managed not to cut off any of my fingers while chopping. Watched tv and went to bed full and happy…until the indigestion hit.

You see, I’ve lost 17 pounds since August. I eat small meals about 3 or 4 times a day. I don’t know why I lost my mind and ate so much (and in hindsight, it wasn’t THAT much but compared to what I have been eating). About two o’clock in the morning, my stomach was churning. After a few TUMS, I felt a little better, but I so paid for overeating, and I was so happy about it. Happy because the changes I’ve been making the past few months really have worked and now the old way of eating makes me sick. WOO HOO!

Friday, had no desire to fight traffic or the bargain-hunting hordes. Stayed home. Did Christmas cards, wrote letters, learned some Tai Chi and chilled out. Started to feel a bit bored, though. Vacations are good if you have something to do.

Saturday, I got up and went to Walgreens in my yoga pants, a t-shirt, no makeup and dirty hair. You don’t understand, I never do this. This time, I didn’t care. Major milestone for me. Besides I needed to buy hair color and more Tums, and to color your hair, it has to be dirty, so washing it before going out would have been pointless… but I digress. Found a 4-in-1 chess/checkers/backgammon/tic-tac-toe game for less than $10 and purchased it. Went back home, colored my hair, did laundry, read up on how to play chess (still working on that) and stayed busy all day.

Today, at some point, we’ll get out the Christmas tree and start decorating. I will go to church at 6 for my first official Advent Sunday and then to another Target to see if I can find the U2 CD and then gas up the loaner car before I have to return it tomorrow morning and go back to begging rides to work.

All in all, a good week. Next vacation, though, I hope to get out of town a bit and be a bit busier, while still taking my down time as needed. I feel refreshed and I haven’t felt that in a long time.

Now that you know way too much about what I’ve been up to, what have y’all been up to?

Posted in Anglican

WHAT A FORTNIGHT

Posted on by sassysheisme

(That’s two weeks for those of you unable to translate in British)

I’ve been busy. In a good way.

I’ve actually had things to do when I come home from work. Places to go. People to see. That hasn’t happened to me in a long time. It hasn’t left me with too much time to correspond, blog, or much else. I have been trying to catch up now for a day or two.

Saturday, I was confirmed into an Episcopal church. I finally have found a place to call home. A place where I fit. Granted, I have yet to make any friends, but I’m working on it. I have invested a lot of time in classes, learning what it means to be Anglican (the Episcopal church is part of the Anglican Communion) and where my niche is in this church. I am currently in a class in which I will examine my gifts and they will find me a place to serve.

I was raised in the church and for years have visited and been a part of many different denominations, all in my search for where I fit. This search may not seem rational to some and others question why I would choose a denomination that is in a radical state of change (name me one that isn’t, and I promise you that you aren’t seeing the whole picture). It’s the first time in my life, however, that where I worship is truly my own decision, and I haven’t dived in blindly. I prayed and sought and read and spent time in the church before I joined it. It’s my choice, one I felt led to make.

I’ve stood at the fork in the road before… and chosen the WRONG way… not even the runner up to “best” which is known as a “good” way. I haven’t had the right choosing skills. I hope I have them now. Please bear with me as I navigate this new road.

Posted in Houston Astros, sports

I FINALLY MANAGED TO GET MYSELF ON TV

Posted on by sassysheisme

First of all, I’m still proud of the Astros. So proud, I climbed up on the roof of the church I work for and allowed myself to be photographed by tv cameras from helicopters… I should explain. Let me back up.

Wednesday, October 20….

Today it was Go Astros Day in Houston, which means you get to wear your Astros shirts and stuff to work. The pastor I work for is a HUGE fan so he said we could all wear our Astros stuff to work.

He asked us to pose for a group photo this afternoon. There were 25-30 of us and after we got the group shot the pastor had to run off to a meeting. The photographer and the head of our graphics department had this brilliant idea to get another group shot on the roof of the church with the downtown skyline in the background.

We (about 20 leftover from the first group) all trek up to the sixth floor and then up one more floor to the roof. May I mention here that it was 94 degrees when we were doing this? On the roof, there is a place that sticks up yet another floor that can only be reached by LADDER. The photographer (great guy) Jack says, “Let’s go up there.”

To my surprise, nobody argued with him. Four of the group are majorly afraid of heights, but hey, we’re saluting the Astros and we’re not working. Let’s go.

I am mildly wigged out coming down ladders, but I decided I wasn’t going to wimp out, so up I go… knowing a return trip would be necessary. Many of us commented as we cheered the height phobics on that this was a great bonding experience, sort of like a ropes course that you send all your employees on so they can learn to get along. It was really fun, though, and really lifted morale.

Here’s where things get interesting… An accident had occurred on the freeway next to us so there were no less than four news helicopters in the area. As we are getting the group shot ready, they notice that there are PEOPLE on the roof of the church.

So, here come the helicopters. The police dept sends their chopper over because well, I’m told it’s normal terrorist activity to try to enter a large building through the roof. Perhaps the other helicopters radioed them that there were people on the roof of the church (the police even called the security people at church to ask what the crack we were doing up there), but no matter how they found out, they came to check us out and waved to us when the saw the Astros signs. I’m glad they didn’t hear my smart aleck remark — saying that we should tell them the pastor made us drink koolaid and sent us to the roof… ha ha.

The news helicopters see us nut jobs up there with our Astros shirts and the ‘GO ASTROS!!” letters. (By the way, if you live in Houston and you see it, I’m holding the A). Fox News zoomed in on us and the helicopter got so close so the camera guy could zoom in. We were going nuts.

Before the game started, here in Houston, Fox (the local news) was showing an interview with Carlos Beltran and then had a shot of us on the roof before they cut to St. Louis. I haven’t seen it but many of the others I was up there with have. Too funny. I finally managed to get myself on TV… even if it was acting like a complete lunatic.

And, even if the Astros don’t win tomorrow, I’m still glad I overcame my fears and climbed up on top of that hot roof.

But the Astros WILL win tomorrow so what am I talking about?!

We were also on the news the following morning. Some of my friends saw it… too wild. That night, I was at the grocery store and the kid sacking my groceries and I start talking about the crazy things people were doing to salute the Astros. I asked him if he saw the people on the roof of the church and he said, “those people are idiots!” Imagine his face when I told him I was one of those idiots. At least he laughed.

Posted in Houston Astros, sports

HOORAY FOR THE ASTROS!!

Posted on by sassysheisme

Congratulations to the Houston Astros… after decades of post-season teasing and futility, they finally came through! After Sunday’s game, I wasn’t so sure. I was having flashbacks to all the times the Astros have snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, but tonight… tonight they won in a decisive, commanding fashion. WOO HOO!!

Posted in kids

REASONS WHY CAILLOU HAS NO HAY-UR (HAIR)

Posted on by sassysheisme

The roommate babysitted my favorite preschoolers tonight, so I tagged along to play. We watched a children’s animated video, “Caillou,” featuring a boy who is drawn with no hair. This intrigued me. Everyone else, including Caillou’s grandfather, had hair (or hay-ur, as Twin #1 said to me — remember, we’re in Texas). So I thought I’d ask the experts why Caillou has no hair, and here are the top answers.

“He’s a boy. He’s just plain.”

“Only daddies have hay-ur.”

“He just is. He won’t have any hay-ur until he’s big.”

“Because he’s Caillou.”

And there you have it. After the little ones were in bed, the 5 year old and I started watching, “Harvey Potter’s Balloon Field,” or something of that nature. Of course, I have no idea how it ends, because the five year old only gets to stay up about 20 minutes later than the three year olds. I have no idea the significance of the balloons and I’m sure I’ll lose sleep over it at some point.

Then the five year old announces she’s misplaced TEDDY. Teddy, who should never leave the bed, left the bed today to lay on the couch. My theory is the same twin who took the other twin’s dollbaby and deposited it in another room probably knows exactly where she cleverly hid Teddy — but alas, she’s asleep.

Remembering a frantic incident with my little brother and an object called, “bankie,” which was lost one night, I looked EVERYWHERE for Teddy… mind you, the only thing I know about Teddy is that he’s red. That’s it. I’m looking for a red bear. Must find red bear. The longer we search, the farther this child’s lip protrudes from the rest of her face. Roommate gives her permission to cry, but she’s a tough little camper.

Parents are called. They are surprised Teddy has left his permanent, never to be removed from, place. Daddy suggests she take “Magic,” a large unicorn, that when leg is pressed, makes an obnoxious magical noise. 5 year old explains to all of the adults: “If I roll over on Magic, she’ll wake me up.” She’s pretty smart. Somehow Roommate negotiates an acceptable substitute (of sister’s dollbaby that is the same size and texture of Teddy).

Whew. Make mental note to self to buy a box in which to keep duplicates of all essential nighttime sleeping buddies at least through age five.

I’m still wondering about that doggone balloon field.

Posted in kids

PRESCHOOL POOL PARTY

Posted on by sassysheisme

The girls who brought you, “Marriage Wisdom from Preschoolers,” just celebrated their 5th & 3rd birthdays at a pool party. The pool held 6″ of water and featured a mushroom shower, Noah’s Ark slide, and a rainbow slide. I don’t know how many kids were there, but there had to be 20 of them, ranging in ages from 1-6. Upon my arrival, I was beckoned into the pool by twin #1.

A total of 5, maybe 6, adults actually got into the pool. Of course, I was one of those adults, and at one point, to help twin #2 get over her fear of the “big, big slide,” I took her down the rainbow slide on my lap. After that, she decided she could go herself.

I don’t know why, but this is the first time I’ve ever been in a bathing suit and not felt self-concious. I had a great time. 🙂

One funny moment: at the girls’ house later, after opening gifts, twin #2 asks me to help put her Rapunzel Barbie in her new tote bag because…”I’m taking her to the doctor tomorrow to get her fixed.”

I don’t know either.

Posted in commentary, sports

THE OLYMPICS ARE HERE…

Posted on by sassysheisme

… and not ragging on NBC, but I really miss ABC coverage of the Olympics. Not sure why. Bob Costas is a perfectly adequate host, but there’s just something missing in the NBC broadcasts.

On Dish Network, there is a channel, (#147) that offers Olympic highlights, and on one screen you can see what all 6 NBC networks are offering. You can switch to any channel and hear what’s going on without leaving that screen. It’s pretty cool. I’ve been there a few times already.

I’ve been trying to stay away from the newspapers because they post results as they happen, not as NBC shows them. Of course, Athens is about 7 hours ahead of us, so unless I can watch tv at work, this is the only way to watch the “prime time” events.

Personally, I love the opening ceremonies with countries like Eritrea, Lichtenstein, Cook Islands, and Palau, who have less than five athletes participating. These people are more than excited to be at the Olympics. You can see the joy and wonder on their faces.

My favorite country, though, was Iraq. Their athletes used to be tortured on a regular basis by one of Saddam’s sons. There was no joy in participation, no thrill of victory, but plenty of agony for them for each defeat. This year, however, the Iraqi athletes were “smuggled” out of their own country for their safety’s sake by Italian peacekeepers in their country. Their soccer team won their first match against Portugal, which was “loaded” with three star players from the English Premier League. Yet Iraq was victorious. They tasted yet another victory, and their countrymen rejoiced. I think it’s a safe bet that these athletes are grateful to each person who helped give them their freedom, regardless of whether there were WMD’s in their country or not.

The Iraqi athletes paraded in and they seemed overwhelmed and awed by the whole atmosphere. The crowd greeted them with cheers and applause. The team members’ smiles made me tear up. Wether or not they medal is of no consequence. They can go home and hold their heads high and they will not be tortured or punished, they will be heroes to every Iraqi child (and some adults all over the world as well).

That, my friends, is what the spirit of the Olympics is all about.