My Week in Review

Friday already?

So this is the second of my two days off, and what can I say? I LOVE THIS. I don't love it enough to retire yet, but I love it plenty. I slept nice and late yesterday, although I woke up with the alarm this morning due to a doctor's appointment. (Meds adjusted, no big deal.) But then I took a nap from 11:45 to 2:45!!! YAY!! Go me!

So it's that kind of lazy time off. The biggest project I worked on was getting all my pictures uploaded to Picasa; I'm not sure why or what I'm going to do with them there. Tag them, I guess, so I can find stuff.

My desk is neat, my bills are are ready to go as soon as someone gives me some money. (And it's on its way, I'm happy to say.) I have laundry to do, but not urgently.

K has gone to visit an old roommate in DC for a few days, from yesterday to Sunday, so the house is quiet -- it's always quite, actually; I never once had to tell a kid to turn down music -- but it's neater when she's gone. No dishes in the sink, no jackets on the couch, and so on.

Oh, btw, I apologize to the rest of the country for the moron New Jersey elected as its governor the other day. A big, stupid idiot-oaf, a former prosecutor who, according to his campaign ads, doesn't understand some basic law. Heaven knows what rights he will attempt to take away from us; he's a conservative buffoon, as opposed to the financial genius (former CEO of Goldman Sachs) who was our incumbent. We always elect liberal senators in New Jersey, but every so often, the electorate settles on some fascist for governor. Ah well, time will tell.

I'm much better than I was last week, but the post nasal drip is still kicking my butt. I'm on multiple nasal sprays now, and am guzzling tea like there's no tomorrow.l




watching PROJECT RUNWAY :: ENTRY #2132
READING: Slept Away by Julie Kraut

It Lives!

I'm taking it easy today, doctor's orders, but I'm at work. She told me to stay home, but I honestly don't feel sick enough to stay home, and I don't have that many sick days racked up to spare. It turns out that when you're taking an immune-suppressing med, as I am, and then you get a cold, you need to get antibiotics right away so it doesn't morph into something worse. Unfortunately, no one mentioned this to me, so it's been a week of having a cold, I thought, with a throat that got more and more sore every day until yesterday I went to the doctor. So there I am, or rather, here I am. She did tell me to stay home and rest, but I'd rather be at work and rest, as it were. Really, I don't feel that bad, and I'm drinking tea.

Ahhh, tea. The great inspection of the school was last week, and within 24 hours, all of us had our microwaves, coffeemakers, and whatnot back in place. This is working out great for me. On the first day of the week, I brought in enough for lunch for the whole week (yogurts, cheese, ice tea) and put it in the fridge, and at lunchtime now I can heat up a single-serving of soup of something, of which I also brought a week's worth. So I didn't have to carry anything at all to school with me today, I love that.

Nothing new in my life except an excess of illness and a scarcity of money, what else is new. My frame of mind is good, though, and for some reason, I Have more energy than I've had in five years. I wonder what's up with that. And this was even before I started the newer meds that I'm on.

What I'm doing here is not nothing, actually, it's just not strenuous. I had no classes scheduled to teach today, although the library is booked all day for classes who've already had instruction and are continuing their work, so I'm here for random help with that. I have a big project that involves shifting books from shelf to shelf to balance space, but I'm leaving that for another day. I did completely re-do my shelf-top book displays, though, since that was only standing and walking around for me, and it was fun.

Later.

I'm home. Still don't feel too terrible, although I'm debating when to take more Advil. I'm not supposed to take it at all, but it really, really helps, and last night was most uncomfortable until I took it. I'll see if I can hold out an hour or so, so it'll last until I fall asleep. But my ears are starting to hurt again.

I was supposed to be at physical therapy now, my last appointment, but they called and canceled, for a change. I never got to go last week, either, but I'm doing the stretches at home, and I think they help. These people have the oddest scheduling practices I've ever seen, which I wont' go into, but I ended up with about half as many sessions as I was supposed to.

I am so tired of talking about my health, thinking about my health. The only thing I can say, and I've said it to a few people, is this: I do not intend to let this become my life. I don't want it to stop me. (I mean, of course, it will stop me from doing some things. That Mt. Everest climb is off now, for good.) Here are my goals: when I want to (and can afford it) I will go to Disney World. Nothing is going to keep my from doing that. And I want to be a grandma, and I plan to be a good one. Nothing will keep me from lifting and carrying babies, when the time comes. I expect to be a hands-on grandma, and my kids want me to be that, too, so nothing is going to get in the way of that. (I promise not to cough all over the babies, though. I won't be hands on when I have plague, like I do now.)

Okay, enough of that shit. I have to talk and think about other things. I have to write more, and about other things, so this doesn't consume me. (I'll give you occasional updates, though, because, y'know, every new episode with me does have some amusement value, at least so far. That nasty rash is a little better, btw, in case you were wondering.)

Okay, so, post.





watching SUPERNANNY :: ENTRY #2130
READING: --- by ---

Don't Mind Me

I'll just sit over here at my desk and moan softly. It's 2:45, and I forgot to get to the ladies' room before the bell rang, which is to say, when there was someone else here. Now, I've got about two dozen kids in the library, and I can't go anywhere until it's time to go home, so that's in about twenty minutes.

Oh, and I have just a bit of plague.

I don't think it's even the flu, just the first stages of a cold. I've had a dry cough all day (I know, flu), and a stuffy nose, and now some scratchy throat. I don't have a fever, I think, but I've been on the tylenol every-four-hour routine anyway, so there isn't going to be a fever. And I'm always achy and I always have chills. But I think it's just a cold. Anyway, I need to be in school tomorrow because I -- let's face it -- bullied some people into coming to a training session after school, so I need to be here. Friday, however, I won't come in unless I feel better. I could use a day of drinking tea and watching old movies whilst buried under my cozy down-like throw.

I don't know if I mentioned this, but you know, teenage type kids are notorious for not listening to what you tell them and ignoring all sound advice, but I swear, every damn one of them coughs or sneezes into the elbow, as opposed to in the air or in their hands. I don't know how this message was universally sent and received, maybe it went out over all iPods and cell phones, but I'm actually astounded at how many of them -- all of them -- are doing this right. I mean, it's not as if they all walk on the right side of the corridor or the stairs, it's not as if they listen to any other rule that's been laid down, or even suggested. And this age group is also well-known for their "it won't happen to me" philosophy, but I guess they're actively trying to avoid the flu. Interesting.

Ten minutes. Tick, tick, tick ... I shall finish from home.

Home. I canceled PT myself today; the therapist doesn't need me coughing in his face. I could hear the receptionist on the edge of telling me that she was going to charge me for canceling so late, but since she canceled yesterday and the day before on about ten minutes notice, she didn't have the chutzpah. Which is good, because I would have blown a fuse.

So I have a bit of a tummy ache and not much appetite. I'm noshing on crackers, though, because I don't want to take any meds on an empty stomach.

I'm going to go pack my lunch for tomorrow *sigh* and take out clothes.



watching GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2129
READING: --- by ---

Surreality

The last few days have been interesting, in a way, not necessarily a good way, but, as my title says, here and there surreal.

To begin with, I had an ordinary check-up after school on Friday. This is my least favorite of all my doctors, and she should be my most favorite: the one who ties it all together, the one who has my back in a sea of specialists. She's not. She addresses the questions I ask her and treats what I present her with. She manages my basic medications. She's okay, but she's not a world-beater. In the past, when I've asked her about something -- for example, the tender spots on my head -- she always gives me a definitive answer, in that case, something about pinched nerves. She's very sure of herself. Of course, to the rheumatologist, this was a definitive marker of fibromyalgia. Whatever.

So, two things. I have a rash ... well ... let's just say sub-bosom. You big girls out there know what I mean. It's ... icky. Anyway, I had mentioned it to the rh'ologist on Monday, just in case it was a side effect of the med -- it's not -- and he asked if I wanted a prescription for it. Nah, I said, I'm seeing the other doctor on Friday, she can give me something. Here's what she said "It looks better, so keep using the cornstarch." Better than what, lady, you never saw this before. "Keep using" the cornstarch? Was I using cornstarch?

Anyway, I also mentioned to her that the rh'ologist said he would give me pain med if I wanted it, and I had decided to stop being a martyr, so she gave me what he was going to give me, which was fine. I took it Friday night before I went to sleep.

Cue the psychedelic lights and twirly things and the in and out zoom. I slept a little oddly, and woke up with not much pain in my arms and legs and back, but possible THE WORST headache I have ever had. Even so, I was in an oddly upbeat mood, and didn't let it bother me. I even drove, which may not have been wise, but no harm, no foul. I felt very much pebbled, as we used to say back in the seventies. (A little stoned.)

I lay down for a nap in the afternoon with the TV on, to "How It's Made" on Discovery Science, or something. It's little factory tours that show how a highlighter is made, and other things; I love that stuff. Anyway, I drifted into about three hours of short hops between this dimension and any number of others. I would fall asleep for 30 seconds and wake up, in the meantime, hallucinating the connection between the last thing I saw and what was on now. Did you know, for example, that sailboards (which are like surfboards, but with sails) are made in a secret facility in Nazi Germany, and that the entire process is overseen by my second-grade crush, Billy Glendenning? I never knew that before either. I couldn't get out of it; I couldn't wake up and I couldn't fall asleep. But it was entertaining.

Around dinner time, I decided to screw the whole thing and I took an Advil. Four hours later, I took two. Finally, no headache, but I still didn't sleep that well. Sunday was a similar day, but I couldn't nap at all, and was up and down all night last night, hot and cold, wide awake and drowsy, TV on, TV off. I had taken a half of the pain pill yesterday morning, but nothing last night or today. I'll wait a couple of days and then try a half again and see what it does.

I never even got dressed yesterday, never even put on a bra, which means I was absolutely not leaving the house nor was I accepting visitors. I was lucky I got my eyes to focus at all. I didn't read, didn't do much else. But I wasn't unhappy, either. K kept saying she was bored all day, but I was too lalalalala to be be bored.

We're having an emergency drill at school tomorrow, which involves evacuating the building and going someplace where we can account for all the kids. Talk about a bore. I've already arranged to hitch a ride back to the building with the nurse if the walk out there is too much for me. (I'll be bringing my cane on the adventure.)

A little later ...

Hmm. I went to physical therapy, which turned out to be an appointment they had kindly re-scheduled for tomorrow, a phone message I got as I was parking the car in their lot. In the meantime, I was noticing that when I sat in the car, the seatback against my back hurt. And then when I was walking around, my shirt moving over my back also hurt. At first I thought, Now that's odd, and then, with a giant duh, I realized that this must be a fibromyalgia thing. Even on the commercials for the fibro drugs, it says that it hurts to be touched, but I had only experienced that before on the specific tender spots. Looks like fun years ahead for me, boys and girls.

We did do a little food shopping, since the PT was canceled, so I have lunch for the week. Which is already packed for tomorrow. Now I have to pick out clothes for spending most of the afternoon outside tomorrow, but it's supposed to be in the sixties, I think, so I really have no idea.

BTW, I'm not really reading either of the books I have listed down there. Maybe someday, but I'm not reading at all lately, too foggy at night to read.





watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2128
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi

I Continue to Exist

I've been so bad with the writing lately. I think part of it is that I'm a little overwhelmed by all the recent medical news and I'm not digesting it all that fast, so it's hard to know what to write. Things are off and on weird with my sister, mostly because she's going through a similar, but not quite the same, medical situation. I have to go to work every day, so that distracts me some, but I don't think she has a distraction, and so she's dealing with it very differently than I am.

What can I tell you? No job yet for the ever-persevering K, who continues to apply for every job she can find. In the meantime, she gets up in the morning and waits to be called to sub someplace.

As for me, school is actually good this year, aside from the Big Bad, which has to do with me being in the library alone and not having bathroom access when that happens; the actual library and its work are good. I'm busy, I have more good readers this year, lots of nice kids, and all that. I may sing a different tune next week after I've done all the freshman orientation classes -- about 25 -- by myself, but that's okay, too.

I'm going to start physical therapy tomorrow, and hoping that goes well. Actually, I'm hoping it's like getting a good massage that's covered by insurance. I can dream, can't I?

Oh hey, I went to the cardiologist yesterday and had a stress test and would you believe? It seems that I have one bodily system that actually works just the way it's supposed to! I know! I was astonished myself.

I was looking over some old entries I'd started that I have on Google docs, and I miss writing like that, the entry about something interesting, or something I'm passionate about. Too much health stuff lately. I'd like to get back to that, so I need to try to just do it. Perhaps if I can still hold my head up tomorrow night, I shall.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2124
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

Still Among the Living and Un-Borged

I'm still here, just teetering on the edge of being overwhelmed by all this, and I've already talked this out today with the therapist (successful talk) and the Sibs (not so much.) And the Hubs, also good. I haven't had any of my parts replaced with cyborg implants yet, either.

I'm starting the new med tomorrow, and maybe that will help. It might at least eliminate the pain in my feet, which would be a good start. And not make me nauseous or otherwise sick, which would be nice.

I've got last night's Flash Forward to catch up on, and a call to OldFriend to fill her in in my details, if I can go through it one more time tonight. I'll try to write over the weekend.



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2123
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

The Medical Report

Oy. Pull up a chair. Pour yourself a cup of coffee.

I have to start with the punchline, which is to say, what the doctor said at the very end, when he was looking at the sheet on which he had to circle my diagnosis so that it would go into their medical records and billing. He held the sheet in front of him, and his pen in the air, and said "I don't even know where to start." Hmmm.

The bottom line is that I have nothing fatal, which is always a good thing. I have osteoarthritis in my right hip, my left knee, and my neck. I have a little fibromyalgia, so little that he's not even dealing with it (but I guess I show some classic symptoms, so that's how he knows.) That condition I have in my right knee that's going to make me get a knee replacement at some point, avascular necrosis, also showed up in my left elbow, and may be in more places, but it doesn't always show up on x-rays (of which I had many today.) The biggie is something called spondylitis, which is inflammation of the lumbar vertebrae and sacroileac, which is to say, the lower back, and which may be causing a lot of the pain in my extremities.

Whoo.

So I get to start taking a new med on Saturday, an immuno-suppresant, which is supposed to cut down on the inflammation, and then the pain. I start physical therapy next week, which should help the neck and the hip.

So there I am. I've been mostly laughing about all this, for some reason, which I guess is the attitude to have, if you can. I also got my hearing aids back, allegedly fixed, but I'll try them tomorrow. And tomorrow I'm also going to make some phone calls about to find out what accommodations a school is legally required to make for a teacher who falls under the Americans With Disabilities Act, since I just found out that the only bathroom in the building anywhere near me is going to be unavailable for a week, and that's assuming I get the chance to leave the library to use it, since they still haven't solved the issue of coverage for me when I need to go. Let's see what the law says they have to do. I hope it's something big.

I'm off to pick out my clothes for tomorrow and see if a heating pad helps my sore arm for a while.

'Night!




watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2122
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Newsy Me

I must really be back to my old routine because here I am, starting my entry at work. It's really the first time since school started that I've had a minute to breathe. I didn't even get to finalizing my last book order, checking the shipment against the order and submitting it for payment, until today, even though the books came in during the summer.

As for right now, they're having a board meeting here in my library tonight, so I've gotten my desk all cleared off of personal items and work in progress; I don't like anybody touching my stuff. I've had to relocate a lot of things, and will definitely remember to lock my desk drawers when I go. I've come back after meetings like this and found all my pencils gone, or my desk chair missing.

So, school. In one sense, the year has started off great for me. I've been very busy and have been getting a lot done. The problem is that they haven't been so good about putting someone here with me each period, so I've had to close the library at random times just to go to the bathroom, and every day during one of the lunch periods, since I'm required by contract to go to lunch, but they don't send anyone to cover so that the library can stay open. This is major suckage, folks. If I were the parent of a kid in this school, I'd be calling the superintendent daily. (Of course, my kids didn't come to the library during lunch, so I wouldn't have know. But you know what I mean.) I hope people are complaining, because that's they only way they'll do anything about it.

Kids. My kids are okay, I guess, improved since the trip, anyway. I think this is just a stressful time for R, and she lashed out a little, but I'm all good with all of it now. I just want her to be unstressed, and happy. As for K, still unemployed, but trying to keep her chin up, and still looking, and hopefully starting to sub next week, so that'll be something coming in.

Hubs. Happy as a clam, but not so much income rolling in, so that's tight. I'm doing my best not to let it bother me. Did I mention I'm going back to the therapist tomorrow?

The FIL. Not so good. Still in lots of pain, and the MIL says he doesn't seem to be interested in anything. That's seriously not good. I don't know how long he'll hold on like this.

My health. I am feeling better some, but I definitely have something going on, thus next week's visit to the rheumatologist, who is, essentially, a specialist in immunology, and therefore, in autoimmune diseases, which is most likely what I've got going on here, since Crohn's is one of those. My Crohn's is behaving itself, mostly, which means no pain and no nasty, constant D, but still, when I gotta go, I gotta go.

I was just down in our central office a few minutes ago, and someone was visiting there with a four month old baby. Oh boy, I want me one of those. Not my own baby, god forbid, a grand-baby. It doesn't even have to be R's or K's, one of my sister's kids could have one and I could just hold it a lot. That would be fine for now. But one of the twins wants only four-legged babies, and the other is only married a year, although I wouldn't be surprised by an announcement any day now.

Ach, I just shifted in my chair and now my back is spasming, but not big time, just a little. I wanna go home!

There you have it, me in a nutshell.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2120
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

After All

today was another day. (with apologies to Scarlet O'Hara)

So. I really did let myself get out of hand yesterday, but I got my control back, with a little help from my daughter friends, and today was a much better day, in general. We did go dress shopping, but before we went to J.Crew and the like at the mall, we went to Target, where K got two dresses, the same but with different prints, and she'll try them on and see which one looks better. Which was good, because the mall was a big fat zero.

She's like a different person, pulled all the way out of the doldrums. (Still needs to see someone, I think, but after the trip. Me, too.) She's not worried about the dress; if these aren't good, she has a few days to look, and is, after all, not employed, so she has the time. Does that mean everything works out? I don't know, I'm just happy she's happy. And I specified adjoining rooms at the hotel, and we have three seats together on the flight down. (We have no assigned seats on the flight back for any of us yet.)

In other news, I really cannot say what is going on with me health-wise, other than the Crohn's seems to be very nicely controlled. Other than that, I'm in a lot of pain all over most of the time. The worst pain is in my arms, shoulders to fingertips, and my feet. And of course, not wishing to be left out, my back went into spasms a few hours ago, and that's been nasty, too. I assume arthritis, but we shall see; more doctors to see after the trip. My sister was recently diagnosed with a form of arthritis, but with the pain, she gets a kind of debilitating fatigue. I don't have that; in fact, I'm less tired than I usually am. Go figure.

Despite the book title I have down there -- I'm still working on that -- I've been reading a YA fantasy series, The Olympians, by Rick Riordan. There are definitely some similarities to Harry Potter, but it is not at all a copy, and it's fun to read. (Twelve year old boy discovers that his father is Poseidon, has to save the world, yada yada yada. But it's written with humor and contemporary references and reads fast. I'm on book three out of five, with a mission to finish it by tomorrow night so I can get it back to school on Monday.)

My plan for tomorrow is to work on doing my hair better, with some new products I got. And a possible visit to or from R. And yes, now I'm fully packed for Friday's trip. Really.




watching L&O:SVU :: ENTRY #2116
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Aging Gracefully. *ahem*

First, I posted earlier today, a picture and a short post from the phone. When I post from the phone, as I'll be doing next week, it's not easy to send out the mailing list email, so I won't be doing that. I'm just saying.

Last night over dinner, K and I had an interesting conversation about my health issues in general, and related things. I don't like to feel as if my health issues are taking up everybody's attention, and so I rarely call attention to them myself unless I feel that I have to. I don't discuss them with people all the time (except you, and my sister.) In her later years, if someone said to my mother, "Hi, how are you?" she told them. "Well, I'm still very constipated, no better since yesterday," and so on. I do not want to be that person.

As a result, the kids have sort of gotten this impression that my sister and I are not really impaired significantly, but that we will be so when it's convenient for us, say, to board the plane early, or to avoid the lines at the parks. First, I find this insulting, and I would think they would know better, but I explained that this is not the case. I told her that if she sees me walking with a cane, it's a safe bet that I should have been using it for two weeks already.

I think she did develop a better sense of where I am physically after we talked, and now she's more concerned about me taking proper care of myself, which is nice, but also not the kind of attention I would want, which is why I keep things quiet. I'm not that old; I don't need my kids to start asking me if I've taken my meds, and why aren't I using my cane? I guess there's a balance here we need to achieve.

I also reminded her that I, much more than she, have a good understanding of the needs of people who are more disabled than I. I have mentioned before, but not for a long time, that my father's business partner for 50 years was among the final group of polio victims. I was six months old when he became ill, and he did not walk after that. He was like an uncle to me, and the term "wheelchair accessible" did not exist then. There were no ramps, except the one on their office that they put there themselves. Handicapped parking? The local police put up signs outside their office door warning everybody else not to park there, that's it. Bottom line, I am sensitive to these needs in other people, and would not abuse them.

Which is not to say that I would not use accommodations to which I am entitled and which I need. I don't think I can wait on an hour-long line with Crohn's; I'd have to leave every fifteen minutes to find a bathroom, and I'd never get to the front of the line!

Anyway, the only thing I've thought about is that our two cousins would get a look at us with our arthritis and cane and whatever and think we were a million years old or something. But Colorado cousin just called a while ago; among other things, she apologetically told me that she has severe tendinitis -- ankle -- and her doctor has her wearing a boot for awhile. So it's all of us. (I won't even go into her sister's issues at the moment.)




watching ALADDIN :: ENTRY #2105
READING: --- by ---

Book Reviews

I finished the Fat-O-Sphere book, and it really was quite interesting. I also talked to R about it. She reads several "fat-acceptance" blogs, which is what this book is about, and although I thought I agreed with it from the beginning, she pointed out to me that my actions say otherwise. Which, I realized, they did. So I've got a whole new avenue of thought opening up for me here. A lot to (pardon the expression) chew on.

Next, I picked up A Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Banks. I had just grabbed this off a cart in the library Wednesday morning when the book I was looking for wasn't there. This book has been on my school's summer reading list for a few years (I'm not sure for what grade level) and it's always on the table for summer reading and Barnes and Noble, so it must be a common assignment, which is why I wanted to read it.

Wha ...?

First, let me say, if you're a grown woman looking for a book to read, this is okay, not a bad read. If you are a kid, especially a boy kid, I can't imagine what possible relevance this book has for you. (It's not a YA book.) Ethan Frome has more relevance, and that, as everyone knows, sucks. This book is a little oddly written; the style and voice changes by the chapter, but not in any consistent way. It's a chick book, with sex. I think it's okay for kids to read books with sex, but only if it's valid within the context of the book, and not gratuitous, or trendy. I didn't get the point of this book at all, not for kids. I can't imagine what aspect of it they teach.

Today I read The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. This is a YA book, and a National Book Award winner. Better written than the other, more boy-oriented, a good story, good characters, but again, I don't see the need for some of what's in it. But it was a popular book with the kids, so I wanted to read it. (It's not on the reading list.) I don't know, it must be me.

My next book is the story of how L. Frank Baum came to write The Wizard of Oz, a book the Hubs gave me for Christmas. Time to read some non-fiction/bio for now.

Oh, I got the results of the thyroid ultrasound; I'm fine. I guess I'll hear from the ob/gyn on Monday. She'll tell me I have a fibroid, which I know. Here's hoping I don't have to do anything about it.




watching THE JETSONS :: ENTRY #2091
READING: Finding Oz by Evan Schwartz

TMI

If I shared all of today's medical information with you -- not all of it mine -- it would be waaaaaay TMI. Nobody's got anything life-threatening or even painful, just a lot of relatively indelicate ailments. Enough said.

I had to go into school this morning for a few things, and ended up making the trek from the library to the central office twice because I either forgot or didn't know what I was looking for. But I think I got my purchase orders all straightened out, and said hello to the principal and took care of a little business with him.

Otherwise, I straightened up my desk so now I don't feel like throwing up when I look at it, which is all the time, and I may (or may not) have solved another problem.

Did I mention that I wanted to have something made for the four of us cousins to commemorate our Disney trip, and that my sister vetoed hats and t-shirts? I settled on a tote bag, but I still haven't been able to find pictures of the four of us as children to have printed on them. Wonderful Niece has all of my mother's pictures, including some I never scanned, and I've been trying to get in touch with her. In the meantime, I found a completely different picture and played with it a little, and here it is:


This is, of course, my Uncle Sol (father of my two cousins going on the trip), my mother Shirl, and their parents Ida and Sam, so, our common grandparents. Is the caption too weird? Is the whole thing too sad, or in K's words, bittersweet? Too depressing a tote bag, or more like a memory, bringing them with us? What do you think?



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2086
READING: Blue Diary by Alice Hoffman

Average Bear

Yogi has it better than a millionaire.
That's because he's smarter than the average bear.

I'm not so much calling myself an average bear, or smart or not smart. However, in very many ways, I probably do have it better than than a lot of millionaires, except, of course, in the having money department. I shall backtrack.

This has been not so much a good day, although it's mostly okay now. Once again, I fell asleep after four, and after a couple of hours of disturbing dreams, I woke up about 6:15, shortly after which it became apparent to me that I must have a UTI.* Ick. I slept for another couple of hours, woke up feeling pretty crappy, decided not to go out, and left it at that. At nine, I called the doctor's office and they called in a prescription for me.

The Hubs had a business appointment and K went out for a long walk, so I was here alone, which rarely happens these days. I thought this would be my golden opportunity to start a little packing -- it's only five and a half weeks until the Disney trip, so I'm getting a late start for me -- but I found there really wasn't much I could do at this point except put a few things inside the suitcase that I had had sitting on top of it. Oh well, I had some bills to pay, so I fired up Quicken. That's when the fun started.

Let's just say the family Chai is having its own little economic crisis and it all hit the fan today. It's always been a bad subject for me, but with the help of therapy and other stuff, I've managed the stress very well for awhile, but it fell on me hard today. The old familiar knot reappeared in its traditional place in my gut, and I was stressed out, more than I've been in ... well, a year, really; I started taking the anti-depressants a year ago this week. I was still holding on, though, I was managing. I just knew I'd need to have a talk with the Hubs when he got home.

K came home, we had lunch and such, and then, I guess it was around 3:00? Maybe? we had an odd bit of an altercation, this because she commented about something she saw in the backyard and I didn't hear her and said "What?" and she repeated it and I still didn't get it and must have said "What?" again, and she lost it. And I felt like shit, mostly because it makes me angry when she does this; I mean, I didn't ask to become hearing impaired and I don't personally enjoy it, and I was close to being a mess already. She quickly gathered up her things and retreated up to her room.

The Hubs came home moments later, and we talked. I told him that other than the obvious need for more money, it needs to be not my problem anymore because the stress is not good for me. And he took it, I think, and told me that the meeting he was at all day was in setting up a kind of new business plan and stuff, so, YAY! I felt soooo much better after I talked to him and got the weight taken off of me. And while I was adjusting to the knot getting smaller ...

K came downstairs, took the remote off my desk and switched my TV from Law and Order to a new channel we're getting called Boomerang. Why? Because there was a Quick Draw McGraw cartoon on -- she had been watching it upstairs -- and she knows that Quick Draw is my most favorite of the Hanna-Barbera cartoon characters. (They show the Yogi Bear and Huckleberry Hound hour every day at three.) It was an apology that worked for me, and after grinning like an idiot at the cartoon for a few minutes, I gave her a hug. (We also watched a very early Snagglepuss cartoon together.) Oh, and K had offered to make dinner (chicken parm) if I don't feel up to it.

(I mentioned to the Hubs that I have never gone so begrudgingly to Disney World; I wouldn't have spent a dime on a trip now, but I didn't have much choice, it being the wish of a dying aunt. The second Florida trip, in September, is something I could also pass on, but unfortunately, we didn't go to my cousin's first son's Bar Mitzvah two years ago because of a threatened hurricane, and not going to this one would cause a breach in the family that no one wants. I'm pretty much taking both trips against my will, which is not to say that I don't want to enjoy them when I go. I just wish someone else had paid for them.)

So, it's been quite the day for me here. Not so much ups and downs, but a long down followed by a nice little sequence of ups.

*For those that need an explanation, a UTI is a urinary tract infection.




no wait ... it's

no. more like


okay. I'll go with
and maybe one more
watching L/O :: ENTRY #2083
READING: ----- by -----

Nice Day

In fact, I had no real nickname when I was a child, and no middle name ever, so my name, which I don't like, is pretty much all I've ever had. Oh, my sister called me Bushy -- really -- when I was a baby, because she said my hair all stood up on my head, like a bush. Or something. My father often called me "Sannie-Pie" (the s is pronounced like a z) as a take-off on Sweetie Pie, and for a period of years my sister actually did routinely call me E-Pie. (I did the same sweetie pie thing with my kids' names, too.) If there was a name I detested, it was Rosie, and anyone calling me that would be the immediate target of a very nasty tantrum. Which is all to say that I was doing something nice for myself today, and the thought went through my head that I was "doing something nice for Little Sanne." You remember, the kid in the picture the other day.

So now it's turning into a real thing, which is also okay, because with any luck, I can somehow turn it over into a kind of meditation, which can only be good for me. After I had that thought, I ran through all those "lovelier thoughts, Michael" memories, you know, the things I would have to think of in order to fly after Peter Pan sprinkled the fairy dust on me. (Or alternatively, the things that would help me conjure a Patronus. Pick your children's mythology.) All this was while I was getting a therapeutic massage on my neck and shoulders. So, all good. And this was after a quick shopping trip with my sister.

And my knee is much better, even without the cane. Of course, my hearing aids are winging their way to Pittsburgh, or wherever it is they get fixed -- I don't know why I think it's Pittsburgh, but I do -- and I have the substandard loaner, but again, whatever.

If only I didn't have to get up in the morning. Twelve more days.



watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2062
READING: American Lion: Andrew Jackson by Jon Meacham

Toes on the Slippery Slope

I've been a little tense the last couple of days. I don't like tense. Tense is like the edge of becoming depressed, and that's an edge I don't want to go over. So I'm holding on, and looking for things that will help me hold on. Here's one of them:



I've decided that this is the person I need to stay strong for. Look at that happy little face. I'm not saying I wasn't already having my moments by this time, but I was, in general, a kid, and a happy kid. And like all kids, I had no idea of what was to come. By this time -- I was seven -- I had had a bad case of the flu when I was four, and a normal case of the chicken pox at four or five. Oh, and the bronchitis or whatever that I caught in the maternity ward and came home with, and the normal amount of scrapes and bruises that a busy, active kid had in the fifties.

This cute little face had no clue that there was a brain tumor coming, and an auto-immune disorder, and bones that would decide not to work anymore. The other night, I was listing a catalogue in my head of all the ailments this little one knew not of. That was a bad plan. The better plan is for me to look at this picture from time to time and remember that she is still happy (although not so much care free) and still okay, and so she can still be the core of who I am. Damn. Maybe that's why I like to surround myself with all the details of my childhood. Maybe this is what I've been trying to hang onto all these years.

Wednesday night, R slipped on a sidewalk grate in the city and bruised her knee, which is still swollen. She's going to the emergency room tonight for x-rays. I can't even say that it can't possibly be broken because she's been walking on it, since I walked on the broken bone in my knee for three days, too. It feels so strange not to be going to the hospital with her. I know I haven't always; she got hurt a couple of times at college and once when she was in London, so it's not like this is the first time. But it's the first time she has a significant other in her life to go with her and not just friends. A big step.

On Tuesday, the Sibs was diagnosed with a form of inflammatory, non-rheumatoid arthritis. It's not osteoarthritis; like rheumatoid, it is ... what else? an auto-immune disorder. We're starting to rack those up, folks. At least it's a diagnosis that explains an awful lot, and will lead to a treatment. So it's not so much bad news as it is news.

Oh, and I picked up my hearing aids Wednesday afternoon. And guess what? Now they don't work in yet another new way.

Actually, that's what put me on the edge. Not the last straw, but a straw, another one.

I was damn cute, though; wasn't I? It must still be in here somewhere.



watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2059
READING: American Lion: Andrew Jackson by Jon Meacham

7th Period is Twelve Hours Long

I'm a freaking dynamo all morning, but after lunch, the last two periods of the day just draaaaaaaag. And while I'm at it, why doesn't someone give my kid a job? Why couldn't the economy have waited until next fall to tank, after scads of teachers retired and my kid got one of their jobs? Hmmm?

Speaking of kids and what they wear -- I know I did that one day, maybe yesterday -- why do the girls think that as long as they're wearing a bra, they're in good taste, even if they're wearing a regular bra with a halter top, or something equally absurd, sometimes, a tube top with a bra under it. Uh, hello? Fashion police, please? Kids are so odd. And the variety you see among high school age kids is astounding. I have one freshman here who has the tough demeanor and walk of a seasoned senior, but he is not even close to five feet tall and has a baby baby face under his soon-to-be five o'clock shadow. There are some extra-heavy girls wearing those shorty-shorts because, of course, that's the style, but it's not the style for them. Don't they have mirrors? I don't think everyone should be thin -- for sure, I don't; the stick thin kids scare me -- but I do think everyone would want to wear the clothes that are most flattering for them. And while I'm at it, those too-long-to-be-shorts-too-short-to-be-pants that a lot of the boys wear? What is up with that? I call it the Bobby Hill Look, like the awkward kid on King of the Hill. These boys might just as well be wearing a sign that says I am too immature to know the difference between kids' clothes and men's clothes. And the boys with the gigantic feet hanging off the ends of skinny stick legs, and of course, those guys are wearing the stupid shorts. And then there are the occasional kids that look so adult, you think it must be a substitute, or a new teacher, kids who have just got it together.

I'm going to the inner ear doctor tomorrow about the tinnitus, and to see if it's maybe connected to TMJ, which is problems with the jaw and the joint that connects it to your ... head, I guess. When I looked up that other thing I've got in my knee last night, the avascular necritis, I read that one of the most common joints to get that in is .... your jaw! So now, of course, I'm thinking that I have this crap in every achy joint in my body, and by the time I get it all replaced, I'm going to be the Six Million Dollar Librarian. (Or maybe by then I'll just be the Six Million Dollar Grandma.) Although I don't think there are replacements for everything yet, but really, are they going to CAT scan my whole body to see where I've got it? I'll glow in the dark.

Speaking of being a grandma -- no, no news on that front, not for a long time -- when I was a kid, I called both my grandmothers Grandma and my grandfathers Grandpa. If necessary, we added their first name for clarification: Grandma Ida, Grandma Sadie. I thought all kids called their grandparents that (even though my mother always referred to her own grandmother as Bubbe, but I actually thought that was part of her name, like my mother would have addressed her as Grandma Bubbe Pesha, since I didn't know that Bubbe was Yiddish for Grandma.) Anyway, when R was born, my ILs stated their preferences for what they wanted to be called, which was Nana and Gramps. I had really always thought such things were affectations, but I guess that's what they called their grandparents, and what their kids called their own grandparents. (Although Gramps was formerly the Italian equivalent, I know not what, and Nana came from the Irish side, although the Italian is Nonna.) Either way, my kids immediately corrupted Nana to Nannie, which the MIL wasn't crazy about, but learned to live with. I know lots of people who use various ethnic terms; my pal The Colleague and her husband go by the Polish equivalents, and E goes by the Hebrew. So here's my question: what words do you and your family use to mean Grandma and Grandpa, and why? Just curious.

(One of the craziest, to me, is my Chum, who has three step-sons, and is the only grandmother their kids know. When the first was little, she often wore a sweatshirt with bees drawn on it that she had painted, since the baby loved it, and she has since become known as Grannie Bumble, or just Bumble. That's a little too weird for me.)

We've been playing Mystery Computer Network here at school all day. At any given moment, the Internet will go out, or saved documents will vanish from kids' accounts. It really is like a system designed by monkeys. Twenty minutes to go, and then I can hobble down the stairs to freedom.


watching WIFE SWAP :: ENTRY #2058
READING: American Lion: Andrew Jackson by Jon Meacham