4 Doctors (and 1 Mrs. C) Offer Advice On How To Stay Well During the Holiday Season
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4 Doctors (and 1 Mrs. C) Offer Advice How To Stay Well During The Holidays

Seasonal wellness starts pronto! Yes, even in September.

photo by Kitt Creative

Mrs. Claus here to remind you that the holidays these days start in the fall or sooner. But you can prepare for a healthy beginning, middle, and end to the season, starting with a flu shot now, if you get them.

With less sunlight from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day, folks become ticking time bombs of illness and depression, all in the name of good cheer.

“Our species is still bound by biology,” said Dr. Robert Hayden, owner of Iris City Chiropractic Center in Griffin, Ga. He expects to heal ballerinas injured performing in The Nutcracker, yet other cases can be more colorful than sugar plums. Imagine a client throwing logs over a fence and coming to the office with an aching shoulder.

“We think we can interrupt good habits during the holidays,” Hayden said. “I’m guilty, too. I think, ‘I’m going to watch that Turner Classic movie until 2 a.m.’ The next day, I wake up feeling sluggish. We can withstand a jolt in the system, but not over the course of a whole month.”

In other words, the delicious, frothy eggnog on your lips might spend a winter on your hips, as well as affecting your feet, neck, skin, back and sleep cycle.

A few years ago, I checked in with doctors in four specialties about holiday health problems. I have some recommendations too. I’m not just a baker, you know, my loves. I also have a MA in Health Education.

Here’s their advice (and mine) to keep you well in a season that seems to start earlier every year:

Foot Care: Dr. Jane Andersen, a podiatrist in Chapel Hill, N.C., said patients travel more frequently this time of year, which means they might be more susceptible to deep vein thrombosis caused by sitting for long periods. If blood clots break loose and lodge in the lungs, the situation can be fatal. To prevent clotting in the legs, Andersen recommends patients take aspirin before boarding an aircraft, wear compression hosiery and allow for frequent movement breaks on the plane or in a roadside rest area.

Andersen’s also concerned by dressy footwear that might spell disaster on slippery pathways after consuming alcohol.

“Shoes are like dessert,” Andersen said. “If you are going to a party, you can plan ahead. You decide, ‘I’m going to wear the pointy high heels, but on the way home, I’ll wear comfortable shoes.’”

During the winter, foot professionals note a rise in neuroma, also known as pinched nerves, and metatarsalgia, characterized by tingling, numbness or shooting pain through the ball of the foot.

Blisters and corns are problems that sound benign until they happen to you. Diabetics who might feel foot numbness must be extremely mindful of trauma related to new shoes.

To get the best fit, Andersen recommends trying on dress shoes at the end of a workday, when the feet are swollen. Pay attention to any pain as a signal that something is wrong and will only get worse. While some people are prone to hammertoes and bunions, issues could quickly escalate if a wearer insists on pushing through the misery.

Varying heel heights can reduce future problems. Stick to a 2-inch height or less, the chunkier the better. Toe boxes should be rounded rather than pointed, and if a party-goer expects to stand for long stretches, a boot or sensible heel would be wiser than platforms.

To reward yourself after a night of wassailing, soak your aching dogs in a bath sprinkled with Epsom salts. Indulge in Vionic slippers with arch supports, a great gift for yourself.

Chiropractic medicine: This time of year, Hayden treats hyper-extended knees from too much standing, necks cranked from guest beds and foreign pillows and tight lower backs from lifting and lowering heavy loads. Poor mechanics while cooking also burden the body.

Less sleep means more stress and irritation exaggerated by high emotions. While the season boosts happiness, a feeling of loss can often coexist with joy, establishing new pain while triggering old musculoskeletal injuries.

“During the excitement, we can try to stay in our routines,” Hayden said. “Keep up the good habits. Then you’ll end up ahead in January.”

Dermatology: Dr. Marie Jhin, a dermatologist in California, said many people forget to remove makeup, drink enough water or get proper amounts of quality sleep during the holidays. Patients might skip medications, contributing to episodes of acne, psoriasis, dry winter skin and eczema.

By New Year’s Day, skin—our largest organ—can look rough from all the binging.

Like Hayden, Jhin recommends hydration, rest and a regimen of general wellness. Avoiding super-hot showers can also prevent skin irritation.

Sleep medicine: As the other doctors mentioned, sleep boosts resilience against an avalanche of health problems.

While many of us can handle one or two alcoholic beverages on occasion, increased intake can have a negative effect on sleep, according to Dr. Darius Zoroufy, medical director at Swedish Medical Center in Seattle.

“Conditions we see at this time of year include insomnia that is seasonal,” Zoroufy said. “Many people have sleep disturbances because of the low outdoor light intensity and short daylight hours. We often see people who gained weight and have been drinking more alcohol than usual, both of which can cause manifestations of sleep apnea to become more obvious.”

Zoroufy recommended a consistent sleep-and-wake schedule, even on vacation. Avoid late nights and long naps. Set limits on sweets and alcohol and wash hands frequently to avoid contracting a respiratory illness that can also affect rest. To feel more alert during the day, consider talking to a doctor about using a therapeutic light box to offset seasonal affective disorder. And for teens who insist on noon wake-ups, negotiate a reasonable structure for a gentler transition back to school.

This piece was adapted from a piece I wrote for Observer.

Related Article: “What To Put In Your Claus-et”

Related Article: “How To Gift Your Claus Clothing

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Rejection Season Has Started, So I Eat Cookies
photo by Kitt Creative

photo by Kitt Creative

I admit I am a sidekick in the Christmas pantheon, at least here in the city. But as the world craves female voices, my image evolves. As a Santa friend reminds me, Lois Lane has had several makeovers to stay relevant. Likewise, Mrs. Claus is like a comic book character who experiences updates each decade. I definitely feel a change in my own folkloric DNA that is both exciting and scary. Who am I? Am I old? Am I young?

Some female peers want me to break all the rules and be a feminist warrior. Others are shocked I dare wear anything other than an apron and traditional mob cap, the ruffly hat preferred by Martha Washington. One Santa wanted me to add wrinkles to my youthful complexion, which I might do only in his company. I respect him that much, even though this feels like age-ism in reverse.

Then another St. Nick told me—gasp—that my youth makes Santa look like a “pervert,” his words in the beginning of the #MeToo era. Fellas, I love you so much I’m asking you to put your right hand on the screen and promise me you will never say this to a woman, or ANYONE, ever, especially when that person is trying to be the best version of herself. Banish this thinking from your brains forever, or at least bury it in your inner monologue. I did speak up on that one, and this influential Santa did apologize, as he should.

Yet every choice I make will be wrong in someone’s eyes, so I have to be myself and listen, listen, listen to what feels right. And I have to cheer on other Clauses to do the same. One gorgeous woman I know calls herself Ms. Santa. She is absolutely stunning and in the driver’s seat when it comes to who she is. Oh, how I admire that.

It is still hard to get work in NYC, even though I’m getting promising feedback early in the season. Here is an example through email:

Thank you for contacting us to become part of the [company name deleted] family! I have added you to our database so that we can begin to contact you for jobs in your area. But, if you have some photos, I would love a couple. Could you email some to me? Or, if there are some online somewhere, please let me know where. Also, I let all of our Mrs Claus' know that unfortunately we do not get a lot of work for Mrs Claus. But, we do get some and are getting more every year.

This is WONDERFUL news! One day, we will be trending.

Here’s a thoughtful rejection from a GigSalad client based in Tudor City in Manhattan:

I’m so sorry! We were really just looking for a Santa Claus.
Thank you though!

The 2018 gig called for a St. Nick to hand out presents and pose in pictures, in only 15 minutes. I felt sorry for the poor Santa who took that rushed job. There’s no way a human being can perform such stunts in such a short period of time. A half hour would do the trick, but candy canes! I am grateful to get a response at all.

Here’s another email through GigSalad that was for Christmas Eve 2017 on Christmas Eve 2017 in the Village:

Hi - is this for Mrs Claus or Santa Claus?

The client, whose name was Jonah, was confused. Sweet, sweet Jonah. He couldn’t figure why a silver lady like myself was writing to him instead of a gentleman with a beard. This made me smile. He seemed very stressed. I should have counseled him not to plan a major event with a costumed character on the day of the busiest night of the universe. But I never heard back.

Last week, I finally found the right number to an appropriate office at the New York Stock Exchange. The gentleman on the other end answered with a simple “hello,” nothing else. That’s a sign I found the inner sanctum.

I said, “Is this the New York Stock Exchange?”

“Yes.”

“How do I get on the schedule to ring the bell?”

The gentleman provided an email address. Before I hung up, I quickly introduced myself. “The financial world needs Mrs. Claus to ring the bell,” I said. “For better PR.” He laughed. Isn’t that glorious?

Here is my bull-market pitch to the NYSE through email:

Mon, Sep 9, 12:17 PM

to nysetv

Hi there,

My name is [deleted to maintain the magic]. I am [a] tall, confident Mrs. Claus NYC who dreams of ringing the bell for the New York Stock Exchange during the holiday season. Santa will never lose his place as the king of Christmas, but I am just as nice, if not more efficient and less well paid.


Last year, I won a scholarship to the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School in Michigan, considered the Harvard of Christmas universities. I was also featured on Page 3 of the New York Post, Marie Claire, and Huffington Post. As a new Mrs. Claus, I have entertained the Clinton family. Here is my website.

I love getting rejections, if that is what is to happen with the NYSE. If people didn’t care, they would ignore me altogether. As you can see, I’m getting very gracious pseudo-“no’s” with honest explanations. I deserve another five cookies.

Related Article: “Mrs. Claus Come Home to NYC”

Mrs. Claus Comes Home to NYC
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A high-flying Mrs. C

I would never dream of taking jobs away from elves or cab drivers.

Even as a cynical woman in her mid-forties, I believe in the spirit of Santa Claus.

Since I can’t be him, I hoped to become a gregarious Mrs. Claus in a city known for its transportation challenges.

I first portrayed Santa’s wife 2017 at an Upper Manhattan tree lighting. I was inexperienced, in the wig and bustled skirt I bought from Amazon, but children read me story books from the vintage suitcase I carried. An aspiring public servant asked my first name — I think he was flirting. “Missus,” I told him sweetly. A local activist asked me numerous questions. Once she felt she could trust me, she wilted beside me on a garden bench. “Oh, Mrs. Claus,” she divulged. “I’ve been to too many protests. I’m so tired.”

For several nights, I was too happy to sleep. In character, I became a mirror that reflected everyone’s better angels, including my own. Mrs. Claus has lived rent-free in my soul ever since. Her crimson wardrobe has taken over a quarter of my precious closet space and a portion of my anxious mind.

A few months into 2018, I applied for a scholarship to the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School in Midland, Michigan. By spring, I learned I had won.

At the three-day training in Michigan, I was one of 50 women among 200 Santas, most of them men with long, white whiskers. Founded by legendary Charles Howard, a former Santa in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, the school included courses in beard grooming, tax law, and toy making. On the final day, I got to drive the school’s parade sleigh and pull the reins on its lifelike reindeer. “Ho ho ho!” I bellowed into the warehouse, where the sleigh was stored. The overall experience was more fun than any adult should be allowed to have.

When I returned to New York that late night in October, I held the wooden duck toy I had made that morning in the workshop. As I wandered through LaGuardia’s renovations, I felt so blissed out in my red beret and scarlet riding jacket that I stood out among locals dressed in black. But when they glanced at me with my feather corsage, they brightened and nodded. While I wasn’t wearing my wig and full costume, I felt filled with a lifetime of Christmas mornings.

Glowing like Rudolph’s nose, I floated to the cab line on a cloud of imaginary white fur. But the familiar yellow cabs weren’t there anymore. Uber had taken over. I pulled out my cell to order a pickup, but my battery had died. “Hello,” I called cheerily to the people in the queue. “Is anyone going uptown? I can pay half.” No one looked up from their screens, so I tried again, louder over the drills of a construction team.

Meanwhile, yellow cabs flew by us to another part of the airport.

I waved my hand vigorously, but the drivers shook their heads like I was high on glue. I went back inside the Delta terminal but found no one who could assist me. So Mrs. Claus — a resourceful dame of the tundra — took a deep breath, braced herself, and yelled “Help meeeeee!” into the Saturday night air. A construction worker stopped what he was doing to direct me through the scaffolding. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. He escorted me through a plywood walkway to the hidden cab line, a scab of concrete much less visible than the queue for Uber.

“It’s okay,” I said, impressed that a little Christmas cheer provided such hospitality. “I’m not mad, but I need to get home to my cats.”

Immediately, a cab pulled up. Inside was the angriest driver in America. Tiny as a glass shard, she hoisted my bag into the trunk muttering expletives that could peel auto paint. “Uber and Lyft,” she grumbled. “I should have gone into accounting. The whole city is falling apart. No one can live here.”

As we sailed over the East River fueled on her resentment, she told me about the two fiancés who changed their minds. And by the way, did I mention how much she hated her job?

Then she grew thoughtful, “Did you make your bird?”

She was referencing my old-fashioned wheeled toy with its long handle and flapping leather feet. Trying to protect it from scratches, I held the duck awkwardly across my lap.

“Yeah,” I said. “I made it this morning at Santa school, in the workshop.”

 “What will they think up next?” she cackled and pressed her horn at the driver ahead who kept switching lanes. “You gonna be Santa? Santa?”

“Mrs. Santa,” I corrected her. “You’re a female cab driver. I’m a female who drives a sleigh.”

What?” she exclaimed in full Brooklyn-ese. “You’re taking jobs away from the elves.”

I chuckled, but she wasn’t joking.

“You know the elves don’t drive the sleigh, right? It’s supposed to be Santa, but Mrs. Claus can do it too. They’re partners.”

“Oh.”

She was silent for several blocks. As we entered Upper Manhattan, where I live, I spied the top of her perm through the divider. She was thinking so hard I could almost hear her brain.

In front of my building, she popped the trunk and pushed my suitcase over to me on the curb. “Good luck,” she said, with what might have been a bit of respect. “There could be some money in this.”

Related Article: “I Went To Santa School To Become A Professional Mrs. Claus”

Related Article: “How To Gift Your Claus Clothing

Related Article: Clauses Visit Way, Way Uptown

Related Article: Christmas Week Notes: Checking in with Mrs. C

Hear The Santa Cast, With Yours Truly
The duet behind The Santa Cast: George McTyre and Anthony Piselli.

The duet behind The Santa Cast: George McTyre and Anthony Piselli.

I am so grateful to be on The Santa Cast with Santas George McTyre and Anthony Piselli. We discussed how Mrs. Claus can lead the parade or judge an ugly sweater contest. As George says, Mrs. C probably knits the ugliest sweaters. And that’s easy, since she herself oversees wool production from North Pole sheep. George, I am truly your sister from another mister. Next time you want to drive half-way across the country in a van, let me know. And Anthony, we will meet someday soon. Listen here for the latest!

A Santa Family Reunion
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Meet Ginger Spice

My new puppet, Ginger Spice, practically leaped off the vender table for me during the 2019 Santa Family Reunion in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. My new wireless sound system is in the background.

In the first few minutes of the 2019 Santa Family Reunion in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, I bought a gingerbread puppet and my own bluetooth sound system.

Since that March morning, I have been tinkering around with Ginger and learning about whether this cookie is a girl or a boy. He/she refuses to give me its official pronoun. I’m trying to respect its dignity, even while hiding it from Santa, who loves to eat gingerbread.

In the meantime, I have been enjoying the sound of my amplified voice here at the North Pole with my new system. Without pushing or straining my vocal cords, I can communicate to all the elves, even the babies like little Nigel.

My dream is to have a 15-minute one-woman vaudeville show I can perform at the drop of a hat, even as I pull magical things from my hat.