Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Vanquishing Age: One Pin at a Time
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Back to School 2015: Family Edition
I am in denial that it is fall. It is 90 degrees outside. I was so in the thick of things from the spring and summer that I didn't really register those two seasons, not to mention those important life-milestones.
Sadly, on September 4th, the bane of parental planning struck. School germs. (sad trombones)
Quoth Christina: Well that didn't take long! School germs are the worst. After 3 days at school Nathan is home today sick.
Like Nathan's May graduation from pre-school. Whoops!
Congratulations Nathan Buddy!
(Unimpressed girl is unimpressed.)
But now that the school calendar has flipped, the big kids in Idaho are off to school.
Quoth Christina on September 1st:
Off to school for these three! Amber is going into 4th grade, Elle 2nd, and Nathan Kindergarten.
Wow, my kids are growing up.
Sadly, on September 4th, the bane of parental planning struck. School germs. (sad trombones)
Quoth Christina: Well that didn't take long! School germs are the worst. After 3 days at school Nathan is home today sick.
Momma is also learning what its like with not so many helpers around. Grumpa reported that Christina said she was not sure what she was going to do without Elle around to help, now that school was starting.
Meanwhile, down in Nevada, Drew started 5th grade in mid-August.
OUCH!
(The kids in New York barely started this week, and some don't start until next.)
With thanks to Grumpa for grabbing these off the sib's social media, so I can collect them and share all at once.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Winter Woes / Wee Sickies / Silly Smiles
This has been a rough winter all around. While the East Coast has been frigid, the West seems to be spared the weather, at least. The various flu bugs, however, keep hitting the Idaho crew in successive waves.
Despite it all, they still are cuties. And I have to thank technology and proud parents and grandparents for sharing.
This one's from about a month ago - when the three biggest were ill, but they had to go out for fresh air, just to give Momma and Jaime a break. As you can tell, no one seemed happy about it. I think Jaime was just confused about the face-masks that her parents were apparently wearing. (And look ... NO SNOW ... in IDAHO ... in February.)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
(And the more I look at Jaime, the more I see so many grandmothers - on BOTH sides - in that little face.)
Thanks to their parents for sharing on a site I'm not one, and for Grumpa for then sharing with me, so I can share with you.
Despite it all, they still are cuties. And I have to thank technology and proud parents and grandparents for sharing.
This one's from about a month ago - when the three biggest were ill, but they had to go out for fresh air, just to give Momma and Jaime a break. As you can tell, no one seemed happy about it. I think Jaime was just confused about the face-masks that her parents were apparently wearing. (And look ... NO SNOW ... in IDAHO ... in February.)
Elle just looks like she's praying to go back to bed.
Jaime was still a happy girl a few days later.
Cameo by the granny square quilt I made for her parents many, many years ago.
Meanwhile, big sister Elle has lost her first tooth mid-month, which her mother reports she pulled out all by herself.
No word on what the Tooth Fairy is paying for self-removed teeth these days.
She's doing better than me. I only managed to lose one tooth naturally.
The rest involved many many different trip to the oral surgeons.
And orthodontists.
Oh boy. Are they in for it - for years.
Times four.
(Speaking of which, where are the remains of my retainer? I need to put it in.)
Amber's birthday last weekend was super fun.
Mom reports that she got to take the day off from school so she could do whatever she wanted.
She went to lunch with Papa (tradition), went to the park, and got to make crafts.
I really like her cake. I may have to make myself one just like it.
Grumpa shared this one last week, with the report that his mother kept finding him like this,
napping because he was having a hard time sleeping because of a cough.
I had that cough. It was wracking, but let's take a moment to look at the
size of his PUPPY feet.
He's going to be SO TALL!
Just like his sisters!
This is the most recent shot, from Sunday, where
these were the only two sisters who made it to church.
Thanks to their parents for sharing on a site I'm not one, and for Grumpa for then sharing with me, so I can share with you.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
How I'm Spending My Christmas vacation
In answer to this:
Where are all the holidays for the introverts AM I RIGHT?
— C. Jane Kendrick (@CJaneKendrick) December 9, 2014
It turns out:
Since I'm not traveling, I'm sick, and it's pouring, staying home, in pjs, watching a Doctor Who marathon is a pretty perfect holiday.
.@BBCAmerica’s Five Days of the Doctor marathon starts Weds Dec 24th 8AM ET w/ over 100 episodes to air! https://t.co/MLB5zn2JO9 #DoctorWho
— Doctor Who on BBCA (@DoctorWho_BBCA) December 19, 2014
This minus the tea, but with lots of fluids because I still have the flu, or flu-like symptoms
Sounds perfect to me! http://t.co/gDwwwQH8hw pic.twitter.com/nmGTPI1aD5
— Tor Books (@torbooks) December 24, 2014
And more of this:
#doctorwhochristmas #DoctorWho and the 12 days of Christmas, well kind of, it's all a bit timey wimey pic.twitter.com/yGOZ5KlhTU
— Ryan Cooper (@mrcooperswit) December 24, 2014
Plus, some of this:
Mark your calendar! The Call the Midwife Holiday Special premieres, Thurs 12/25 (Christmas!) at 8pm. Watch clips etc: http://t.co/sQHrLs4fBU
— THIRTEEN (@ThirteenNY) December 15, 2014
And I have presents, Diet Coke, some time off, AND a vacation still scheduled.
Pretty good alternative for this year.
What a chance from the last few years.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Thursday, December 12, 2013
And the Rest is Cylon(s)
Apologies if you have come here for some of my normal babblings. It's that time of year when the time streams collide, I need to clone myself, all the projects are due, the Christmas to-do lists aren't shrinking, the end-of-year pushes, packing, and utter holiday madness coalesce into one cranky jam-packed just-push-through-to-survive Nettie Zombie Drone mentality.
On top of that there are behind-the-scenes life issues being addressed, there are parties to bake for, there are neighbors TO LOATHE, and there is a) first a migraine-related bout of something, and b) NOW, a weeklong head-cold/sinus infection/flu thing to kick --- all before we fly in less than a week to climes that are colder than New York itself. I need another dose of The Doctor to head back in time, so I can better prepare. Or take yoga. Or again, CLONE myself.
Speaking of clones ... This year Grand Central decided to go and dress up like a frakkin' Cylon. I think to prove, once and for all, that the deus ex machina is going to get us. (That or the hordes of zombie commuters.)
It's good thing I have things to look forward to in Utah, Nevada, and Arizona, and Westchester, and then in the spring when HOPEFULLY, Mr. Simon can sing The Sounds of Silence to me.
Until then,
Blogging will be intermittent for the foreseeable.
On top of that there are behind-the-scenes life issues being addressed, there are parties to bake for, there are neighbors TO LOATHE, and there is a) first a migraine-related bout of something, and b) NOW, a weeklong head-cold/sinus infection/flu thing to kick --- all before we fly in less than a week to climes that are colder than New York itself. I need another dose of The Doctor to head back in time, so I can better prepare. Or take yoga. Or again, CLONE myself.
Speaking of clones ... This year Grand Central decided to go and dress up like a frakkin' Cylon. I think to prove, once and for all, that the deus ex machina is going to get us. (That or the hordes of zombie commuters.)
Until then,
Blogging will be intermittent for the foreseeable.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Finding the Funny in the Fumes*
You know, I only have myself to blame. I didn't follow-up. I didn't return the voice message. I took the landlord's word for it. I made the cardinal mistake of remembering that the story you've been told is never the whole story - if you even get to hear the story at all.
Let me back up.
This week has been kicking my butt.
I've felt icky since the weekend, so took two, highly uncharacteristic sick days. I guess the fever chills, sweats, queasiness, headache, lethargy, and nap were symptomatic of something, but I don't know what - except maybe an end-of-summer cold, not eating right, stress or something. So two days off should have been fine.
Day Two of the sick days, I tried to work from home. Again, I should have known. If I say I'm taking a sick day, I shouldn't try to work ... but NO! I spent all day arguing with my computer connections. I rebooted numerous times. I hit refresh. I unplugged the "modem" and the cables over and over. I managed to get to the regular Internet, but despite hours and hours of hitting buttons, the work intranet website and my VPN didn't come up -- until -- of course -- 5:15 p.m. Whatever. So I logged on and caught up on e-mail and did a few database things.
Day Two was also the day I prepared my bathroom for what my landlord has said was "reglazing of the tub." I've only been peeling the glaze off my post-war tenement bathroom tub for 3 years and two building owners -- so, you know -- it was a bit ghetto looking. I should have taken a photo, but it shouldn't have been documented. It was gross, even clean. I pulled everything out of the room, cleaned all the surfaces (as much as you can in a 50 something year old bathroom where it's being held together by the dust, grit, and who knows what else), and prepared to be disrupted for about a day. Everything is all over the kitchenette. It's a small studio. It's not good to have stuff all over the place. It junks it up fast.
The plan was to head to work on Wednesday/today. I had to vacate the apartment anyway for the reglazing, and three days out of the office - especially when the bosses are on vacation - is not such a good idea for work flow or accountability. I should have known the day was going to go to crap, when I woke up to the first of the alarms, burst into tears and very maturely started to whine: "I don't wanna go to work." (Yes, I'm a 40-year-old-woman. Yes, I was crying. Not a good sign.)
I regrouped. Did my apartment straightening. Got ready. Got everything in the bathroom clean again. Took the computer apart and hid it. Had my bags packed and was actually early! Plenty of time to leave the keys with the super.... but ... Strike 2 of the day. No one answering the super's bell. No one answering the phone. WHAT TO DO!? So, I waited in the lobby. Missed my train. Started to run late. I knocked again. No answer. Decided to call 1 more time, and then to figure out what to do with keys/calling into office about being out AGAIN. Call 2: Apparently I had woken the super's wife (sorry Sylvia) who was enjoying the last few days of summer vacation with her kids. Many apologies on both sides. Left the keys. Caught slowpoke local train. ONLY 1/2 hour late - YAY but grrrr.
The rest of the main part of the day mostly had it's moments of meeeeeegh. I enjoyed having the office to myself, so I could sit in the dimly lit room, ALONE, and power through a bunch of projects with a headache and still some chills. However, the rumor mills started to churn, especially as we arrived and noticed all the NYPD barricades. We knew that POTUS (The President of the United States) was going to be in town for fund-raisers, what we didn't realize was that he was going to be right next door giving speeches and that all of our normal exits would be blocked, the subway would be closed, and that just walking across the street would be impeded. Fine, I thought. I'll just work late and he'll have moved on to the next engagement.
HA! SO MUCH HA!
Day goes by. Some people desert at 4:00, others linger, like me. Office finally clears out of everyone else at 6:30. I do a few more things, hit a good pausing point, and I notice it's 7 p.m. Hey, maybe I should go home! I figure: It's a beautiful night, I'll just walk to Grand Central again, and avoid all the areas with closures due to POTUS, except...
I CANNOT LEAVE THE BUILDING.
SERIOUSLY. We couldn't even get near an exit. The frozen zone extended all the way up to, and past our main entrance, on the 1st floor - of the building NEXT to the building that he wasn't even going to be near.
ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?
I WANNA GO HOME!
The NYPD (through no fault of theirs I am sure) had to freeze us in the building for another 20 minutes. Good grief. I'm all for safety of the head of state, but ... ENOUGH WITH THE NYC FUNDRAISERS. YOU ARE ALIENATING A MAJOR PORTION OF YOUR POSSIBLE VOTING BASE BY FREEZING THE UPPER WEST SIDE, MR. POTUS.
I had a moment of: Do I go back to my desk and work or do I bang on locked doors screaming "Attica Attica" 'til the NYPD or Secret Service free me from the Big Grey Box that is my office building?
I wisely decided that getting arrested was not a good idea and spent few minutes huddling with a colleague in her office, since we were both stuck and we needed to discuss a few things anyway. (Pretty sad that we finally have time to have a meeting after 7 on a work day, just because we can't leave the building - but that's how it is.)
When we were finally sprung from the Big House, we still couldn't quite get to our subway so we wandered down and around and through the side streets and back alleys of NYC until we got to Columbus Circle where upon I decided to skip the walk and take mass transit home. Spent the ride and lots of time at Times Square Shuttle area continuing "discussion" (aka thinly veiled snarkfest) with colleague about work until I realized I really needed to go home ASAP! Her too. To be continued. RUN to shuttles for the trains.
P.S. When did the sun start going down before 8:00 p.m.? Because that wasn't fun to see when the train pulled out of the Park Avenue tunnel. The days are getting too short, especially when you are at work for 10 hours.
And, now we hit the real high point of the day. (And I use HIGH on purpose.)
I arrive to my apartment to find a note on the exterior door reading:
Please if you can don't use the bathtub till Friday evening. So it can dry off completely.
Thanks Super.
Excuse me?
No one said ANYTHING about NOT having shower access for 2 more mornings?!
So I open the door to my apartment, about get knocked out by fumes like I haven't inhaled in years (accidentally, while painting, or doing automotive work or working in fast food with industrial cleaners), and saw this:
I ran back downstairs to the super's, got my keys from poor Ms. Sylvia, and she assured me that I could use the sink and the toilet, but ... no go on the shower until Friday - which means Saturday really. No other units in the building are free so I could sneak in and use their showers, because the ones that aren't occupied are in the same situation as this. And, I'm sorry. I am not going to use the super's bathroom, no matter how sweet his wife is, because she has two kids home from summer break and it's not her fault the landlord didn't tell either of us that THIS was going to be the situation. I would have stayed in the dorm, with a friend, or gotten a hotel room or something. I'm going to be going old-school with a sink shower in the a.m. (It's good to be reminded that at least I have the option of a sink shower - not everyone does. Yes, these are all First World Problems and my ancestors are up there laughing their angel wings off at me.)
Even with a window open, the air conditioning on, and a fan blowing on the tub in the bathroom, the fumes are .... a tad ...... WHEEEEEEEE. I'm not intentionally huffing, but I can't help it. There's no choice.
Imagine fumes from old fashioned paint + wallpaper adhesive + linoleum + magic markers = Still not as strong as glazing fumes here right now.
However, I am remembering why I actually LIKE paint fumes. They are an appetite suppressant. If keep inhaling glazing fumes, will I lose weight? Because I am losing brain cells. Pretty sure that's what the headache is from.
P.S. Also, even though you think 10:30 p.m. may be too late for your super to visit to check in on you, and you may have decided to get into some of your p.j.s and "liberate the girls," it's probably a good idea not to leave your unmentionables drying on the fan by the bathroom. You just never know. It's hard to whisk somethings away discretely without embarrassing yourself and the super. I think I need to leave a bigger Christmas tip this year. Poor guy.
And
P.S.S. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Fumes are FUNNNNNN!
NOT
Later updates:
The week got a little more interesting after this was posted on the Wednesday it happened. Thursday night around 11 p.m. I returned a call from dear friend Wendy - who was out West with Ms. Emily visiting her father, dropping her eldest off at the MTC, and seeing my parents. She and Emily were due to fly back to NYC and see me on Friday for dinner, but her transport plans hit a snafu and she was wondering if ... they could stay over with me! WHAT?!
UM, sure Wendy? As long as you don't mind sleeping on the floor in a crowded studio apartment with no access to the shower because even though the super said that the shower should be okay by Friday night, they called and said to let it cure for another night -- Saturday by this point? Oh, and I need to be back in NYC at the train station by around 8:30 a.m. because I already have plans?! Come on over! The more the merrier and it's almost like those times at Girl Camp, except we do have an indoor toilet and air conditioning and take-out, and cable t.v. and a computer! However, the 13 year old is sleeping on the floor and you get the air mattress.
So that happened. No shower for a few days. Horrid fumes that gave me the fume-fugue for two days of dopiness. Last minute house guests. Three people in a tiny studio.
And then...
When I FINALLY got to take a shower on Saturday night around 9:30 p.m. when I got home and had unwrapped the bathroom, and cleaned it up, and scrubbed my self down, and then washed my hair twice and conditioned, and groomed, did I have to deal with the fact that I was standing in calf-deep water because ...
the.dang.shower.wouldn't.drain!
At 10p.m. I had to bail it out, 1 cup at a time, clean it all over again, and then spend 2 days dumping Liquid Plumber and hot water down it to get it drain correctly!
I REALLY WANT A DO OVER FOR THAT WHOLE WEEK! So I could have gotten a hotel room or something. I feel horrible about being a bad hostess with no shower for weary travelers!
*A couple of friends told me later that this should have been subtitled: The Huffington Post !
Let me back up.
This week has been kicking my butt.
I've felt icky since the weekend, so took two, highly uncharacteristic sick days. I guess the fever chills, sweats, queasiness, headache, lethargy, and nap were symptomatic of something, but I don't know what - except maybe an end-of-summer cold, not eating right, stress or something. So two days off should have been fine.
Day Two of the sick days, I tried to work from home. Again, I should have known. If I say I'm taking a sick day, I shouldn't try to work ... but NO! I spent all day arguing with my computer connections. I rebooted numerous times. I hit refresh. I unplugged the "modem" and the cables over and over. I managed to get to the regular Internet, but despite hours and hours of hitting buttons, the work intranet website and my VPN didn't come up -- until -- of course -- 5:15 p.m. Whatever. So I logged on and caught up on e-mail and did a few database things.
Day Two was also the day I prepared my bathroom for what my landlord has said was "reglazing of the tub." I've only been peeling the glaze off my post-war tenement bathroom tub for 3 years and two building owners -- so, you know -- it was a bit ghetto looking. I should have taken a photo, but it shouldn't have been documented. It was gross, even clean. I pulled everything out of the room, cleaned all the surfaces (as much as you can in a 50 something year old bathroom where it's being held together by the dust, grit, and who knows what else), and prepared to be disrupted for about a day. Everything is all over the kitchenette. It's a small studio. It's not good to have stuff all over the place. It junks it up fast.
The plan was to head to work on Wednesday/today. I had to vacate the apartment anyway for the reglazing, and three days out of the office - especially when the bosses are on vacation - is not such a good idea for work flow or accountability. I should have known the day was going to go to crap, when I woke up to the first of the alarms, burst into tears and very maturely started to whine: "I don't wanna go to work." (Yes, I'm a 40-year-old-woman. Yes, I was crying. Not a good sign.)
I regrouped. Did my apartment straightening. Got ready. Got everything in the bathroom clean again. Took the computer apart and hid it. Had my bags packed and was actually early! Plenty of time to leave the keys with the super.... but ... Strike 2 of the day. No one answering the super's bell. No one answering the phone. WHAT TO DO!? So, I waited in the lobby. Missed my train. Started to run late. I knocked again. No answer. Decided to call 1 more time, and then to figure out what to do with keys/calling into office about being out AGAIN. Call 2: Apparently I had woken the super's wife (sorry Sylvia) who was enjoying the last few days of summer vacation with her kids. Many apologies on both sides. Left the keys. Caught slowpoke local train. ONLY 1/2 hour late - YAY but grrrr.
The rest of the main part of the day mostly had it's moments of meeeeeegh. I enjoyed having the office to myself, so I could sit in the dimly lit room, ALONE, and power through a bunch of projects with a headache and still some chills. However, the rumor mills started to churn, especially as we arrived and noticed all the NYPD barricades. We knew that POTUS (The President of the United States) was going to be in town for fund-raisers, what we didn't realize was that he was going to be right next door giving speeches and that all of our normal exits would be blocked, the subway would be closed, and that just walking across the street would be impeded. Fine, I thought. I'll just work late and he'll have moved on to the next engagement.
HA! SO MUCH HA!
Day goes by. Some people desert at 4:00, others linger, like me. Office finally clears out of everyone else at 6:30. I do a few more things, hit a good pausing point, and I notice it's 7 p.m. Hey, maybe I should go home! I figure: It's a beautiful night, I'll just walk to Grand Central again, and avoid all the areas with closures due to POTUS, except...
I CANNOT LEAVE THE BUILDING.
SERIOUSLY. We couldn't even get near an exit. The frozen zone extended all the way up to, and past our main entrance, on the 1st floor - of the building NEXT to the building that he wasn't even going to be near.
ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?
I WANNA GO HOME!
The NYPD (through no fault of theirs I am sure) had to freeze us in the building for another 20 minutes. Good grief. I'm all for safety of the head of state, but ... ENOUGH WITH THE NYC FUNDRAISERS. YOU ARE ALIENATING A MAJOR PORTION OF YOUR POSSIBLE VOTING BASE BY FREEZING THE UPPER WEST SIDE, MR. POTUS.
I had a moment of: Do I go back to my desk and work or do I bang on locked doors screaming "Attica Attica" 'til the NYPD or Secret Service free me from the Big Grey Box that is my office building?
I wisely decided that getting arrested was not a good idea and spent few minutes huddling with a colleague in her office, since we were both stuck and we needed to discuss a few things anyway. (Pretty sad that we finally have time to have a meeting after 7 on a work day, just because we can't leave the building - but that's how it is.)
When we were finally sprung from the Big House, we still couldn't quite get to our subway so we wandered down and around and through the side streets and back alleys of NYC until we got to Columbus Circle where upon I decided to skip the walk and take mass transit home. Spent the ride and lots of time at Times Square Shuttle area continuing "discussion" (aka thinly veiled snarkfest) with colleague about work until I realized I really needed to go home ASAP! Her too. To be continued. RUN to shuttles for the trains.
P.S. When did the sun start going down before 8:00 p.m.? Because that wasn't fun to see when the train pulled out of the Park Avenue tunnel. The days are getting too short, especially when you are at work for 10 hours.
And, now we hit the real high point of the day. (And I use HIGH on purpose.)
I arrive to my apartment to find a note on the exterior door reading:
Please if you can don't use the bathtub till Friday evening. So it can dry off completely.
Thanks Super.
Excuse me?
No one said ANYTHING about NOT having shower access for 2 more mornings?!
So I open the door to my apartment, about get knocked out by fumes like I haven't inhaled in years (accidentally, while painting, or doing automotive work or working in fast food with industrial cleaners), and saw this:
WHAT.THE.WHAT?!
This is not a usable bathroom in anyway shape or form!
I ran back downstairs to the super's, got my keys from poor Ms. Sylvia, and she assured me that I could use the sink and the toilet, but ... no go on the shower until Friday - which means Saturday really. No other units in the building are free so I could sneak in and use their showers, because the ones that aren't occupied are in the same situation as this. And, I'm sorry. I am not going to use the super's bathroom, no matter how sweet his wife is, because she has two kids home from summer break and it's not her fault the landlord didn't tell either of us that THIS was going to be the situation. I would have stayed in the dorm, with a friend, or gotten a hotel room or something. I'm going to be going old-school with a sink shower in the a.m. (It's good to be reminded that at least I have the option of a sink shower - not everyone does. Yes, these are all First World Problems and my ancestors are up there laughing their angel wings off at me.)
Even with a window open, the air conditioning on, and a fan blowing on the tub in the bathroom, the fumes are .... a tad ...... WHEEEEEEEE. I'm not intentionally huffing, but I can't help it. There's no choice.
Imagine fumes from old fashioned paint + wallpaper adhesive + linoleum + magic markers = Still not as strong as glazing fumes here right now.
However, I am remembering why I actually LIKE paint fumes. They are an appetite suppressant. If keep inhaling glazing fumes, will I lose weight? Because I am losing brain cells. Pretty sure that's what the headache is from.
Who says living in/near NYC is glamorous? 'Cause it ain't.
Old apartments are ever so delightful.
You never know when the City is going to grind to a stop because of some out-of-towner.
And the best laid plans of mice and men? Often go astray.
I want a do over for this week.
Old apartments are ever so delightful.
You never know when the City is going to grind to a stop because of some out-of-towner.
And the best laid plans of mice and men? Often go astray.
I want a do over for this week.
Though, I only have myself to blame.
P.S. Also, even though you think 10:30 p.m. may be too late for your super to visit to check in on you, and you may have decided to get into some of your p.j.s and "liberate the girls," it's probably a good idea not to leave your unmentionables drying on the fan by the bathroom. You just never know. It's hard to whisk somethings away discretely without embarrassing yourself and the super. I think I need to leave a bigger Christmas tip this year. Poor guy.
And
P.S.S. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Fumes are FUNNNNNN!
NOT
Later updates:
The week got a little more interesting after this was posted on the Wednesday it happened. Thursday night around 11 p.m. I returned a call from dear friend Wendy - who was out West with Ms. Emily visiting her father, dropping her eldest off at the MTC, and seeing my parents. She and Emily were due to fly back to NYC and see me on Friday for dinner, but her transport plans hit a snafu and she was wondering if ... they could stay over with me! WHAT?!
UM, sure Wendy? As long as you don't mind sleeping on the floor in a crowded studio apartment with no access to the shower because even though the super said that the shower should be okay by Friday night, they called and said to let it cure for another night -- Saturday by this point? Oh, and I need to be back in NYC at the train station by around 8:30 a.m. because I already have plans?! Come on over! The more the merrier and it's almost like those times at Girl Camp, except we do have an indoor toilet and air conditioning and take-out, and cable t.v. and a computer! However, the 13 year old is sleeping on the floor and you get the air mattress.
So that happened. No shower for a few days. Horrid fumes that gave me the fume-fugue for two days of dopiness. Last minute house guests. Three people in a tiny studio.
And then...
When I FINALLY got to take a shower on Saturday night around 9:30 p.m. when I got home and had unwrapped the bathroom, and cleaned it up, and scrubbed my self down, and then washed my hair twice and conditioned, and groomed, did I have to deal with the fact that I was standing in calf-deep water because ...
the.dang.shower.wouldn't.drain!
At 10p.m. I had to bail it out, 1 cup at a time, clean it all over again, and then spend 2 days dumping Liquid Plumber and hot water down it to get it drain correctly!
I REALLY WANT A DO OVER FOR THAT WHOLE WEEK! So I could have gotten a hotel room or something. I feel horrible about being a bad hostess with no shower for weary travelers!
*A couple of friends told me later that this should have been subtitled: The Huffington Post !
Monday, March 14, 2011
Letters from Ollie J - March 14, 1988
This letter references the period in high school when I missed about three weeks of classes due to a severe viral infection. I lost so much weight and got so dehydrated that when I went to the doctor to have yet more blood drawn for work, they could find a vein anywhere, so they had to strap me down to tap a femoral artery. I learned my lesson from that incident, so when I was very sick the last summer (e coli!), I at least knew to stay hydrated! I should have taken out stock in Gatorade, so much of that did I drink last year.
The illness was right before I was scheduled to leave on a trip over Easter Break to the Soviet Union, as it was still then. Needless to say, this was a trip I didn't want to miss, because you couldn't just grab your passport and head to Russia in those days. (Who knew that a few short years later that Communism would fall?) Regardless, I wanted to go on the trip, despite all the hesitations of boyfriends, grandmothers, and doctors. The latter were especially worried about me. We were all warned not to drink the tap water in Moscow, that maybe the water in Leningrad/St. Petersberg "might" be okay. Because my system had been so comprised, the doctors warned me to stick to bottled water/Pepsi products the whole time. Please! Water consumption was the least of what the authorities should have been worried about. What about the indignities that my lower anatomy had to face because of the toilet paper!?
I'll post photos of the Russian adventures later this week.
Oh, and catching up on school work wasn't a problem. In fact, that's the only section of chemistry that I ever understood that year (Voles?) because I had to teach it to myself. I learned my lesson too. There was no reason for me to be stressing out over high honors science classes like Chemistry or Biology, because I just had no aptitude for it. Why take high honors or advanced placement in those classes when it was clear I was on an English/history track?
14 Mar 1988
[Temple Mission
Kensington, MD]
Hi Honey,
Is[sic] makes me sad to learn you are having a health problem and Doctors don’t seem to be able to find the Cause.
Hope you feal[sic] better today and will not have to[sic] much problem catching up with your school work.
When are or were your plans to go on this trip April ? Will you being sick interfear[sic]? Cause you not to go.
Found this story in wash room and read it with interest thought you might to read it. [Penny Royal by Yvonne Yaw, published in McCall’s, May 1987, pgs 63-66].
Take care.
My hip and leg are much better. But move slowly. Don’t want the hard pain to come back.
It’s cooler today and windy. We didn’t have much rain. We had a very pretty warm day last week. It will be hot one day. Expect the Cherry Blossoms here in full beauty soon.
Love you
Be good
Lots of Love
Grandma
The illness was right before I was scheduled to leave on a trip over Easter Break to the Soviet Union, as it was still then. Needless to say, this was a trip I didn't want to miss, because you couldn't just grab your passport and head to Russia in those days. (Who knew that a few short years later that Communism would fall?) Regardless, I wanted to go on the trip, despite all the hesitations of boyfriends, grandmothers, and doctors. The latter were especially worried about me. We were all warned not to drink the tap water in Moscow, that maybe the water in Leningrad/St. Petersberg "might" be okay. Because my system had been so comprised, the doctors warned me to stick to bottled water/Pepsi products the whole time. Please! Water consumption was the least of what the authorities should have been worried about. What about the indignities that my lower anatomy had to face because of the toilet paper!?
I'll post photos of the Russian adventures later this week.
Oh, and catching up on school work wasn't a problem. In fact, that's the only section of chemistry that I ever understood that year (Voles?) because I had to teach it to myself. I learned my lesson too. There was no reason for me to be stressing out over high honors science classes like Chemistry or Biology, because I just had no aptitude for it. Why take high honors or advanced placement in those classes when it was clear I was on an English/history track?
14 Mar 1988
[Temple Mission
Kensington, MD]
Hi Honey,
Is[sic] makes me sad to learn you are having a health problem and Doctors don’t seem to be able to find the Cause.
Hope you feal[sic] better today and will not have to[sic] much problem catching up with your school work.
When are or were your plans to go on this trip April ? Will you being sick interfear[sic]? Cause you not to go.
Found this story in wash room and read it with interest thought you might to read it. [Penny Royal by Yvonne Yaw, published in McCall’s, May 1987, pgs 63-66].
Take care.
My hip and leg are much better. But move slowly. Don’t want the hard pain to come back.
It’s cooler today and windy. We didn’t have much rain. We had a very pretty warm day last week. It will be hot one day. Expect the Cherry Blossoms here in full beauty soon.
Love you
Be good
Lots of Love
Grandma
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Shushing Librarian and the Wintertime Blues - Part 1
The Shushing Librarian here again. Happy 2011.
Glad to be here once again guest posting for Auntie Nettie while she's off doing something or other. I don't know what exactly. She was last seen slogging through the January slush/snow/ice/rain mix toward a train, when she was engulfed in a person-sized wave of goop from the splashing of a passing car, so who knows where she'll wash up.
Glad to be here once again guest posting for Auntie Nettie while she's off doing something or other. I don't know what exactly. She was last seen slogging through the January slush/snow/ice/rain mix toward a train, when she was engulfed in a person-sized wave of goop from the splashing of a passing car, so who knows where she'll wash up.
As for me, can I level with you?
I'm having a hard time with the snow too. The drifts are burying me.
It's driving me crazy.
It's really ringing my bell.
I'm a basket-case.
Some days I get home from the office, feeling like I've been wrung out and hung up to dry.
I've tried self-medicating with all kinds of things.
The old stand-by of chocolate,
mashed potatoes, 
and ice cream seemed to help ... a little. 
I decided to seek out some advice on how to deal with the winter blues.
My colleague, The Roaming Gnome,
predictably told me to go on a tropical vacation. 
Hate to tell you R.G., my excursion to the Dole pineapple farm didn't help.
I just managed to remember how much I hate pineapple,
and then I picked up another bug on the plane trips.
I had to resort to more drugs.
While I was in a NyQuil induced fog, I had visions of a wise
Jedi Master who gave me some unexpected advice:
But maybe that was the alcohol in the NyQuil talking?
I'm having a hard time with the snow too. The drifts are burying me.
It's driving me crazy.
It's really ringing my bell.
I'm a basket-case.
Some days I get home from the office, feeling like I've been wrung out and hung up to dry.
I've tried self-medicating with all kinds of things. The old stand-by of chocolate,
mashed potatoes, 
and ice cream seemed to help ... a little. 
I decided to seek out some advice on how to deal with the winter blues.My colleague, The Roaming Gnome,
predictably told me to go on a tropical vacation. 
Hate to tell you R.G., my excursion to the Dole pineapple farm didn't help.I just managed to remember how much I hate pineapple,
and then I picked up another bug on the plane trips.
I had to resort to more drugs.
While I was in a NyQuil induced fog, I had visions of a wise
Jedi Master who gave me some unexpected advice:
But maybe that was the alcohol in the NyQuil talking?Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Medical Mysteries Summer 2010
Dear E coli,I.Hate.You.
I really, truly, and utterly hate you. You ruined my RoadTrip. You wrecked my appetite. You caused me great distress. You even made me take drugs, not to mention go to the doctor. A LOT!
But I guess I have to thank you for the weight loss, you nasty bugger.
Now ... go away! Don't come back. Don't send postcards. BE GONE!
Sincerely,
Auntie Nettie
P.S. Yup E %)(@*%#) coli ... that seems to be the official diagnosis for the last two months of "fun." So far the count is three doctors visits, three sets of "samples," three sets of antibiotics, an abdominal ultrasound, lots of time on the train, about $80 in co-pays, $100+ in drugs, a yet-to-be-determined final bill from everything that wasn't covered by insurance, and one call from the New York City Department of Health, with an oh-so-fun phone interview about what I might have eaten, where, when, and what kind of symptoms. But, hey ... at least it wasn't my gallbladder and my kidneys didn't shut down!
Photo by Eric Erbe, digital colorization by Christopher Pooley, both of USDA, ARS, EMU.
This image (found here) is in the public domain because it contains materials that originally came from the Agricultural Research Service, the research agency of the United States Department of Agriculture.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Retroblog July 30, 1983
Today is Sat. July 30, 1983 Time 6:52 P.M.Thursday I to the hospital and two X-rays on my chest. The doctor is trying to see why I still have my virus. Tuesday I had the rest of my pysicle for school. Yuk.
Till next saturday.
Hey look, I learned how to spell virus correctly. Though I still can't spell physical.
I must have been really sick, to have to go to the hospital to get X-rays.
This wasn't the only time I got mystery viruses that defied medical definition or explanation. I got seriously sick my sophomore or junior year of high school, missing three weeks of school, losing about 15-20 pounds, being exhausted, and getting so dehydrated that the doctors finally had to go to my femoral artery to take blood. I don't think it was ever properly diagnosed. I remember taking lots of meds, drinking lots of fluids (they were the only thing I could keep down and in me), worrying lots of people, and lying on the couch. Weirdly, I remember being ecstatic too, because its was the only time that year I wasn't struggling with advanced chemistry -- because I had lots of time to figure it out my own way and not blow up the chem lab. (Chemistry, esp. the section on moles, is HORRIBLE to learn on your own. ) Part of me was strangely enthusiastic about the whole experience, because I lost TONS of weight. (Sure, THAT'S mentally healthy -- she thinks sarcastically!) That's probably the last time that I can remember that happening. I eventually got well, just in time to take a class trip to the U.S.S.R., but I went with extra warnings NOT to drink the water due to my weak immune system.
Hey ... maybe it was the high school-period mystery virus experience that got me all weird about doctors ... What do you know! I don't need therapy. I just need to retroblog!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Retroblog July 14, 1983
Today is July 14th, 1983 Time 5:56 Today I went to Ashford for the first time in 2 weeks. It's good to be back. The doctor said I had a virearse and my cough is going away. It better be gone Tuesday because we have an activity and Mom said I cann't go onless its gone. We have 3 new goldfish.
Ashford was the name of my church congregation. Apparently being sick at home for two weeks makes you happy to go back to church. I can't remember if I was the accompanist for the congregational portion of services, but I probably was the pianist for the youth portion. By that time, the congregation was probably glad I was back too.
This is an important entry, because it notes the appearance of pets for the first time in our family history. Mom had wicked bad allergies to everything with hair, fur, dust, dander, or slobber (which meant she was really allergic to us kids too), so we never had pets. Fish, the parental units thought, would be fairly low maintenance and a good compromise. Sadly, this tail has a sad end, without even a flush to end it.
The three goldfish were named after me and my two brothers. They were kept in a very simple glass bowl on the dormant wood stove in the living room. All was well, we thought, in Fish Land. A day passed. The fish swam. We children delighted in pets. Food was given. Day three dawned with a mystery. The fish named after my youngest brother was missing. Two fish were left. A search went out around the stove and the hearth to see if the fish had jumped to its death. Not a scale was found. Tears were shed. The two fish swam. Children adjusted to two pets. Food was given. Day four dawned with another mystery. The fish named after me was missing too. This was very perplexing. Another search was initiated, but eventually called off by Dad who figured that the fish had to have been victims ... of goldfish fratricide. The only fish remaining was the one named after my middle brother, and given the lack of evidence, Dad deduced that that fish cannibalized its bowl mates. Eventually, that fish got its just rewards and was found belly up. I don't remember a ritual disposal, but thus ended the family keeping fish as pets.
After such a catastrophic experience with the fish, you would have thought we would have learned our lesson with pets. However, there was the brief, and I do mean brief, experiment with rabbits being kept in the garage. Turns out that getting two male bunnies is not such a good idea, as they beat the heck out of each other. The definition of "fur flying" comes to mind when I remember what the garage looked like. A replacement female bunny for one of the males also didn't turn out well, and they were given away to good homes. Their replacement family ended up showing them at the local agricultural fairs, so it wasn't so harebrained an idea after all.
Mom's allergies also turned out to be genetic. The whole hair, dust, dandruff allergy was passed down in various degrees of severity to me and my youngest brother, who goes into almost anaphylactic fits around our nephew-cat Tippi. I have a time limit to how much I can be exposed to Tippi or other furry creatures, including the collection of hair balls and dust bunnies I consider my pets.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Retroblog July 12, 1983
Today is July 12, 1983 Time 6:33 pm
We are home! July 9th at Grandma's I got a cold. I have a fever and cough. Yuk. Tomorrow I have appointment with the doctor.
People who know me now will laugh at this one. An appointment with the doctor? And I actually will be going? HA!
Obviously I was underage, so someone else made the appointment and took me to it.
Maybe this is another lesson that I should remember. If you are sick, and you have medical insurance, GO TO THE DOCTOR!
Yeah .... I'll think about.
We are home! July 9th at Grandma's I got a cold. I have a fever and cough. Yuk. Tomorrow I have appointment with the doctor.
People who know me now will laugh at this one. An appointment with the doctor? And I actually will be going? HA!
Obviously I was underage, so someone else made the appointment and took me to it.
Maybe this is another lesson that I should remember. If you are sick, and you have medical insurance, GO TO THE DOCTOR!
Yeah .... I'll think about.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Grateful List 1/17-1/26
I had a few things to be grateful for recently. In spite of my recent legal limbo situation, I was so grateful the weekend before last to be sans automobile. As the snow came down, all I could think to myself was how happy I was NOT to have to trudge down the four or more blocks to find and undig my car, only to have to deal with the snow after the plows came by, and then have to repeatedly move it for the various off-the-side street cleaning days. Plus, I don't have to deal with maintenance.
Last week I was grateful to celebrate two important milestones, Martin Luther King Jr. Day and the Inauguration. How wonderful to be living in America during these days, to see the peaceful transfer of power to a new President, and to witness a day that seemed impossible not too long ago. I was so grateful that my employer encouraged us all to view the Inauguration coverage, and placed large screens in public spaces and recital halls so students, faculty, and staff alike could tune in. The sense of community and our excitement was more palpable than can be expressed through these images.
You should have heard the crowd roar.
More cheers from the classical music crowd as Yo-Yo Ma and Mr. Perlman played "Simple Gifts." How wonderful that classical music was featured prominently and that the arts were given a world stage. (If only the CNN announcers had kept quiet during the piece!)
Family values center stage.
Oh, Yes. He did.
May we continue to pray for the safety of the President and his family, and for him to have patience, fortitude, and wisdom as he travels the difficult road ahead.
Final, I am also thankful for my current corporate climate, where colleagues encourage you to take your personal and sick days – though they are probably the reason why you are sick again! I was also ever so grateful to the creators of Kleenex, Vicks VapoRub, and Advil, and all of the cast, crew, and producers of television on various cable channels. I may still be sick, and look like Rudolf the Red-nosed Auntie Nettie, but drugs and mindless hours of cooking and home decorating shows kept me entertained between sneezing fits and blowing my nose.
Last week I was grateful to celebrate two important milestones, Martin Luther King Jr. Day and the Inauguration. How wonderful to be living in America during these days, to see the peaceful transfer of power to a new President, and to witness a day that seemed impossible not too long ago. I was so grateful that my employer encouraged us all to view the Inauguration coverage, and placed large screens in public spaces and recital halls so students, faculty, and staff alike could tune in. The sense of community and our excitement was more palpable than can be expressed through these images.
A few of my colleagues paying close attention,
and wearing their Obama gear.
You should have heard the crowd roar.
More cheers from the classical music crowd as Yo-Yo Ma and Mr. Perlman played "Simple Gifts." How wonderful that classical music was featured prominently and that the arts were given a world stage. (If only the CNN announcers had kept quiet during the piece!)Family values center stage.Oh, Yes. He did.May we continue to pray for the safety of the President and his family, and for him to have patience, fortitude, and wisdom as he travels the difficult road ahead.I would also be grateful if we could only catch up to the rest of the world and get a WOMAN as President during my lifetime, albeit, it does have to be the right woman ...
Final, I am also thankful for my current corporate climate, where colleagues encourage you to take your personal and sick days – though they are probably the reason why you are sick again! I was also ever so grateful to the creators of Kleenex, Vicks VapoRub, and Advil, and all of the cast, crew, and producers of television on various cable channels. I may still be sick, and look like Rudolf the Red-nosed Auntie Nettie, but drugs and mindless hours of cooking and home decorating shows kept me entertained between sneezing fits and blowing my nose.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
WDJS and WWJS
I'm finding that I have a case of bloggers block combined with symptoms of fatigue, overwork, ennui, exhaustion, and a case of the nasty stomach bug that's floating around. It's not pretty. I don't feel pretty. In fact, I feel pretty darn nasty. I went looking for a remedy for the latter symptom in the form of the ubiquitous saltines in my local grocery store and couldn't immediately find them.
Then I said to myself,
"Self," cause that I said, "What Did J Say?"
Dear readers, I have been proclaiming for years that I'm not the funny one in the family (I'm the funny LOOKING one). My bro J is quite snarkily witty.
Here's his earlier rant on crackers.
From now on, that old mantra WWJD is being replaced by WDJS or WWJS for What Would J Say?.
Cause he's usually thought of it first. And funnier ... and um, you know, more articulate.
Excuse me while I go and eat those saltines now -- and nasty ginger ale.
Yum.
Then I said to myself,
"Self," cause that I said, "What Did J Say?"
Dear readers, I have been proclaiming for years that I'm not the funny one in the family (I'm the funny LOOKING one). My bro J is quite snarkily witty.
Here's his earlier rant on crackers.
Saltines get the shaft. In looking for them, I dutifully searched the cracker aisle. After a few moments of fruitless hunting, I finally had to ask a stock girl where they kept the “nasty saltines that no one wants but everyone eventually needs.” She pointed me to the far side of the aisle, bottom shelf. Which really means floor. Saltines get hidden away from all the so-called “good” crackers on the floor.
It’s cracker discrimination at its most blatant.
From now on, that old mantra WWJD is being replaced by WDJS or WWJS for What Would J Say?.
Cause he's usually thought of it first. And funnier ... and um, you know, more articulate.
Excuse me while I go and eat those saltines now -- and nasty ginger ale.
Yum.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)