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  • Welcome to Two Babes and a Brain. No, you didn’t read it wrong. We are called Two Babes and a Brain. Yes TWO WOMEN ONE BRAIN. And yes, before you ask, we are ready to take all the comments and jokes that come with that. Allow us to explain. Children fry your brain cells. They suck the intelligence right out of you. They cause you to stare blankly at objects wondering how to use them to do bodily harm—usually you imagine doing bodily harm to yourself because if you do bodily harm to your children, DCYF will have to get involved and that just takes up time you don’t have because---you have children. The two women who run this blog have six children between them. Therefore, they are short on brain power. After some serious mathematical calculations they have come to the conclusion that together they have a total of ONE brain. They feel lucky to have this. Now, on to the Babe issue. To be a Babe, you don’t have to look like Carmen Electra or Katherine Zata Jones. It’s a state of mind. It’s being comfortable in your own skin. A Babe has her own opinions about issues, whether you are talking about politics, sports, education or even the War on Terror. Chris and Lisa definitely have their opinions about almost everything. That’s one reason they created Two Babes and a Brain. And when their opinions are on opposite sides, look out. Katy, bar the door and batten down the hatches cause sh#t’s gonna hit the fan. Chris and Lisa extend an invitation to you to post your comments, questions and yes, even dissenting opinions. But be warned, they love nothing better than a good juicy debate.

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« The Problem With Outsiders | Main | Open Thread »

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Open Thread

Sorry guys...have a ton of stuff to do today...will try to post later.

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Comments

Secondhand Smoke Tragedy
At the same time today as the Surgeon General came out with his latest warning on secondhand smoke, my sister-in-law’s 50-year-old sister is undergoing surgery for lung cancer.

Peg is not a smoker, but her parents were, her husband is, and the ladies in her bridge club are. Peg came down with pneumonia last month, which was the first warning, because she is never sick. Her chest x-ray showed two spots on her lung. Her doctor told her that her lungs looked like she had smoked her whole life.

The pneumonia probably saved her life because they caught the cancer early. We don’t know yet exactly what the pathologists will find because as I write, she is still on the operating table.

The Surgeon General’s report today said separate smoking sections don’t cut it. “Only smoke-free building and public places truly protect nonsmokers from the hazards of breathing in other people’s smoke.” Moreover, he said, “There is no risk-free level of exposure to someone else’s drifting smoke. Separating smokers from nonsmokers, cleaning the air and ventilation systems don’t eliminate exposure to secondhand smoke.”

The Surgeon General is especially concerned about young children who can’t escape their family member’s addiction in search of cleaner air. Living with a smoker increases a nonsmoker’s risk of lung cancer and heart disease by up to 30%.

I have been called rude, arrogant, a troublemaker, and a bitch for years because I have made no bones about not wanting to breath another’s smoke. I campaigned for a nonsmoking nurses’ lounge in the operating room I worked at in Denver—they called me a troublemaker. I refused to play in the same bridge club that Peg plays in because of the smokers—they called me arrogant. I have asked people not to smoke in my house or sitting behind me at a Bronco Football game—I was called rude. I have always refused to date any man who smokes—I was called a bitch.

But you know what?

I won the nonsmoking nurses’ lounge, but lost smoking friends. I didn’t get to play bridge, but I also didn’t get lung cancer. The Denver Bronco’s banned smoking in their stadium—I believe they were the first professional team to do so. And many of those smoking men I refused to date have already had heart attacks—and I am not the one who has to take care of them.

Quite frankly, I would rather be called a rude, arrogant, troublemaking bitch, than to have the left upper lobe of my lung removed and undergo radiation and chemotherapy because of someone else’s addiction.

Peg was too nice. Look what it got her.

Please Don’t Smoke!

Nurse Judy


Nurse Judy

I will pray for your sister.

We sure do need those rude, arrogant, troublemaking bitches like you, Judy. Those are the negative words. How about Courageous, uncompromising, fearless, and strong?

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