I have just discovered that people get paid for doing this sort of writing. Yes, yes, I know...I am (was) the proud owner of a $2.00 off coupon directly related to my blog, but I tried sending that to my mortgage company and they sent me a letter...in a red envelope! Apparently they are a little particular about the type of currency they will receive. I wish they would have sent it back though, I'm pretty sure that my car insurance would have taken it.
So anyway, I happened to be straightening up a little and I came across a book my sister had given me for my birthday a while ago. My birthday is in a little less than a week in case any of you would like to send me books, food, Cd's, Stock certificates, German bearer bonds, the gold that you were going to send in to that company from the TV commercials...whatever. I would have offered to put my bank account number here so you could just deposit your "birthday wishes" directly but I just gave it out to a Nigerian Prince who has millions of dollars hidden and only needs to stash it in an American bank for a while. I don't really want to jeopardize that transaction. It will help me make up for my losses in the coupon market.
But I digress...I realize that I say that so often I should get it tattooed on my arm but that is the wonder of my brain. Picture a gymnasium with note cards all over the floor. Throw in a ping pong ball and every time it hits a new card I need to comment about whatever is on it. Makes for interesting day of explaining to Sylvia, "Umm, I'm on a new topic now." Always keep it fresh I like to say! And yes, I do realize that I just compared my brain to a large empty room...I'm good with that.
But I digress... Actually what got me started this morning was the book Sue gave me. It is a signed copy of a Dave Barry book. I can picture Sue talking to Mr. Barry and saying, "My brother is a funny guy and he wrote me letters in college that I thought were pretty good." Well look where that encounter has landed me! I have my very own blog! They tried to explain that "just anyone" can start a blog. Riiiiiiight! Just anyone who has Dave Barry greasing the wheels to make all the red tape disappear. I see how it is. You, Mr. Barry, would like to remain behind the scenes in getting young writers started on their way to fame and fortune. I understand. Who needs the publicity! I promise that when I become rich and famous, like you, I will carry on the tradition.
I'm not sure I can handle notoriety though. I already have people walking up to me on the street and saying, "A thing for pygmies! Good one." Just the other day I got a technical drawing for a "plastic encrusted lead suppository." After I put it back into the envelope (with salad tongs), and took a Silkwood shower, I wrote to this person explaining that I was just using that phrase as an example and that it wasn't an idea that needed to go to the patent office. I was respectful, of course, I mean my mom is a little sensitive. (just kidding Mom, see you at Thanksgiving) With this kind of thing happening now I'm not sure I could handle what would happen if more than 25 people started reading my little corner of the internet.
I do know that Mr. Barry is one funny human. (It says so on his book cover) And I appreciate that some of my friends have said that my goofy prose is similar to his. Really? Thanks! I'm not trying to copy anyone but I think he is funny, and people compare me to him, so ipso facto (which means 'it is a fat fact') I am funny. Nice! Now if I could only figure out how to get this into book form, like Mr. Barry, then I would be set! I mean not everyone has time to sit at the computer to do something as silly as read my blog...but everyone has time to sit "somewhere else" for enough time to read an article in a book. If you know what I mean...wink wink. I don't want to be indelicate, but there is "a certain room" that people go "to sit a spell" and it "takes a little while" to "do their business." I think I have figured out my target audience! Perhaps I can get Charmin as a sponsor.
So anyway, I would like to thank Mr. Barry for not blocking my attempts at being a blogger. I think I will send him a note telling him that I would like to meet him one day (although it's like I already know him...he signed my book). But don't worry, I shan't be giving up my day job as a kindergarten teacher to pursue a career in writing. Even though I could, I mean I just used the word "shan't" for crying out loud! I have some talent don't you think? I also do not have any plans to stock up the car with Depends and Gatorade to drive across the country and meet you. I will never do that!....again. At this time I would like to publicly apologize to Miss Bonnie Hunt... for no particular reason.
That's all for now. I hope you are enjoying that I have the week off and I can afford the time to write a little more often. I will get the hint if people send me notes telling me to take care of myself and sleep in. I would like to end by saying that I really do think Dave Barry is funny and if your paper does not have his articles (mine doesn't) you may want to check out his books. You would enjoy them. And finally, Mr. Barry, I would like to say that "a thing for pygmies" and "plastic encrusted lead suppositories" would both be excellent names for bands! Just saying!
Playing with words is fun. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do writing them!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Great Debate
Hello again, I'm back and I have been castigated by Sylvia. I had to look it up, and (thankfully) it doesn't mean what I thought it meant. According to Jethro Webster (Noah's lesser known and slightly less well read cousin) castigate means: to chew out. Apparently portions of yesterday's blog were, in her words, "a little much." She did say that it proves I am a good writer, but romance novels are not really what I am going for. I tried to explain that it was "tongue in cheek" but as any comedian knows, if you have to explain a joke it's not a good joke. Moving on!
Yesterday was a day like any other. Went to the Post Office, did a little shopping, and had roughly 842 activities planned to do with our kids...3 of them were generated by Sylvia and me. There was choir, and laser tag, and buying things for a shower (baby not hygienic), and so on, and so on. It all culminated in Kristiana being at a progressive dinner/scavenger hunt/party. I assumed that it was to celebrate Christmas really early but I am finding that home-school parents are an active breed and this just seemed to be a great time for an event. God bless people who have more energy than me.
It was while I was picking her up from this event that I observed two people having the most universal of debates. Unlike yesterday, where I championed the privacy rights of individuals and was very clear where I stand, I chose to stay neutral on this new debate. I didn't really want anyone to call the police. We have all heard that you do not discuss politics or religion in casual conversation. I am finding that if you want to remain civil in your discourse, do not approach this hot button debate topic. Not even with a ten meter cattle prod (OK, which movie?)
As you sit at your computer, mentally shouting, "NOOOOOO!!! Don't do it Jeff!! Just walk away!" I appreciate your concern. But that is me...I want to put it all out there and let the chips fall where they may. (Unlike when I worked at the butcher shop...they get a little upset when you let the chops fall where they may...but I digress) Yes, dear readers, I want to once and for all handle the subject that has been the cause of strife the world over. Wars have started, marriages have ended, lives have been ruined! Can't we all just get along...and decide once and for all, Butter cream or whipped cream frosting.
That's right, I went there...and this time I brought a cupcake.
Turns out there is a right and a wrong answer to this debate. The trouble is that everyone has their own opinion of what that answer is...and that the other side is wrong! I am very happily married and the reason, to a large degree, is that Sylvia and I share the same view on frosting. We both suffer from the delusion that cake was invented because bringing a spoonful of frosting alone to your face seemed impolite. I can pretend to eat cake to get to the frosting. I'm a team player. Sylvia and I also know that corner pieces are little gifts from God. A corner piece with a flower? Dare to dream!
In nature there are some symbiotic relationships where both organisms benefit from being together. For example, one person will eat all of the pizza and leave the crust, the other will savor the crust and leave the gooey stuff. You need to find out if this is your situation before you start going after your partner's frosting. It tends to ruin the mood at your niece's wedding if you start wrestling on the ground with your wife, arguing over the last glob of frosting from the wedding cake plate. I do, hereby, solemnly swear that I will never, ever, ever do that...again. (Uh oh, I can feel another castigation coming) Just kidding Hon. Love you!
At the risk of losing readers, and in the interest of full disclosure, I feel I must tell you where I stand on this issue. For me, if you bring me a cake with whipped cream icing you run the risk of having your cake go to waste...as opposed to the butter cream I like so much, which goes to waist. In fact, if there is a function with multiple types of cakes, I will always go for the carrot cake. I think the cake itself is ok...but more importantly, I have never met a carrot cake with whipped cream frosting. To do so, I think, is punishable by 6 months in jail and a hefty fine. I believe the issue is addressed in the Constitution.
Back to last night. I was picking up Kristiana, the teenager, and she was actually acknowledging that I was alive. Yes! Guess I am improving my geeky Dad to allowing space ratio. (either that or she knew it was raining and didn't want to walk home) As I waited for all the hugs, "see you later"s and "I'll Facebook you"s to subside two people started talking about frosting. It was all well and good until an interloper strolled in and just haphazardly blurted out, "Give me Cream Cheese or give me death!" I grabbed Kristiana and hustled out of there before the chairs started to fly.
I have to believe that people will learn to live and let live. It seems so silly to me that all of this trouble can result from something so simple as this. I mean, it's not like pie, where everybody knows that fruit/berry is far superior to cream! There you go, talk amongst yourselves.
Perhaps in the future I will cover the second most important debate. Catch spiders with a glass and release them outside, or smush them with a Kleenex? Now if you'll excuse me there is a spider, from the Latin; spider-eww toomanylegsidae, in front of me who is about to find out where I stand on this debate...anybody out there know how to play Taps?
Yesterday was a day like any other. Went to the Post Office, did a little shopping, and had roughly 842 activities planned to do with our kids...3 of them were generated by Sylvia and me. There was choir, and laser tag, and buying things for a shower (baby not hygienic), and so on, and so on. It all culminated in Kristiana being at a progressive dinner/scavenger hunt/party. I assumed that it was to celebrate Christmas really early but I am finding that home-school parents are an active breed and this just seemed to be a great time for an event. God bless people who have more energy than me.
It was while I was picking her up from this event that I observed two people having the most universal of debates. Unlike yesterday, where I championed the privacy rights of individuals and was very clear where I stand, I chose to stay neutral on this new debate. I didn't really want anyone to call the police. We have all heard that you do not discuss politics or religion in casual conversation. I am finding that if you want to remain civil in your discourse, do not approach this hot button debate topic. Not even with a ten meter cattle prod (OK, which movie?)
As you sit at your computer, mentally shouting, "NOOOOOO!!! Don't do it Jeff!! Just walk away!" I appreciate your concern. But that is me...I want to put it all out there and let the chips fall where they may. (Unlike when I worked at the butcher shop...they get a little upset when you let the chops fall where they may...but I digress) Yes, dear readers, I want to once and for all handle the subject that has been the cause of strife the world over. Wars have started, marriages have ended, lives have been ruined! Can't we all just get along...and decide once and for all, Butter cream or whipped cream frosting.
That's right, I went there...and this time I brought a cupcake.
Turns out there is a right and a wrong answer to this debate. The trouble is that everyone has their own opinion of what that answer is...and that the other side is wrong! I am very happily married and the reason, to a large degree, is that Sylvia and I share the same view on frosting. We both suffer from the delusion that cake was invented because bringing a spoonful of frosting alone to your face seemed impolite. I can pretend to eat cake to get to the frosting. I'm a team player. Sylvia and I also know that corner pieces are little gifts from God. A corner piece with a flower? Dare to dream!
In nature there are some symbiotic relationships where both organisms benefit from being together. For example, one person will eat all of the pizza and leave the crust, the other will savor the crust and leave the gooey stuff. You need to find out if this is your situation before you start going after your partner's frosting. It tends to ruin the mood at your niece's wedding if you start wrestling on the ground with your wife, arguing over the last glob of frosting from the wedding cake plate. I do, hereby, solemnly swear that I will never, ever, ever do that...again. (Uh oh, I can feel another castigation coming) Just kidding Hon. Love you!
At the risk of losing readers, and in the interest of full disclosure, I feel I must tell you where I stand on this issue. For me, if you bring me a cake with whipped cream icing you run the risk of having your cake go to waste...as opposed to the butter cream I like so much, which goes to waist. In fact, if there is a function with multiple types of cakes, I will always go for the carrot cake. I think the cake itself is ok...but more importantly, I have never met a carrot cake with whipped cream frosting. To do so, I think, is punishable by 6 months in jail and a hefty fine. I believe the issue is addressed in the Constitution.
Back to last night. I was picking up Kristiana, the teenager, and she was actually acknowledging that I was alive. Yes! Guess I am improving my geeky Dad to allowing space ratio. (either that or she knew it was raining and didn't want to walk home) As I waited for all the hugs, "see you later"s and "I'll Facebook you"s to subside two people started talking about frosting. It was all well and good until an interloper strolled in and just haphazardly blurted out, "Give me Cream Cheese or give me death!" I grabbed Kristiana and hustled out of there before the chairs started to fly.
I have to believe that people will learn to live and let live. It seems so silly to me that all of this trouble can result from something so simple as this. I mean, it's not like pie, where everybody knows that fruit/berry is far superior to cream! There you go, talk amongst yourselves.
Perhaps in the future I will cover the second most important debate. Catch spiders with a glass and release them outside, or smush them with a Kleenex? Now if you'll excuse me there is a spider, from the Latin; spider-eww toomanylegsidae, in front of me who is about to find out where I stand on this debate...anybody out there know how to play Taps?
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Fly The Friendly (Naked) Skies!
If you have read my blog before you realize that I have just found out that I can track how many people have looked at it...and from which country. (Turkey, thanks for joining the party. South Korea, watch out...Mexico is trying to pass you on the outside) Anyway, in an attempt at sensationalism, taking on a current topic, and artificially increasing readership I decided to pepper today's entry with a lot of provocative words that might get searched more often. We'll see if it works. If you think this is a little much then don't worry...I'll be back to writing about imaginary conversations with my pencil sharpener in no time. (By the way, it says hi!)
I apologize to my regular readers but I need to rate this entry "IMA"...for Immature Mature Audiences. The following is written in first person. But believe me when I say, "It ain't me!" (it's a little risque but I'm asking that you at least read to the last line of the next paragraph to know that I haven't completely lost my mind and there is a point) You can let me know if I have gone too far...or if you are the publisher of romance novels.
I feel I should say that I understand that there needs to be security for our planes. I would love it if it wasn't needed, but I know that it is. There are people who are willing to do awful things and would like to use planes to do them. I get it. But when I hear police officers saying that if they used this type of "pat down" on a suspect they would be arrested, and it is useless for finding contraband, I think there has to be a better way. Perhaps someone smarter than me, Jeff Garrett...kindergarten teacher, can think of something. We'll see, but I am not holding my breath...unless I am in the full body scanner trying to suck in my gut.
I do have a suggestion though for the airlines to make things safer. Nudity! If you want to fly leave your clothes at home! A comedian suggested this years ago...and it was wildly laughed at for being boldly outrageous! Now it seems to be the direction we're heading. Apparently the scanners that they are making people go through allow the screeners to "see" through clothes and show more curves than the average man or woman would care to admit existed. They sell stretchy clothes for a reason. We're told that the images aren't saved and there is no possibility of images being leaked onto the internet. Consequently, there are tens of thousands of these pictures that have been leaked and sites like, nakedscreeningpics.com are popping up like weeds all over the seedier side of the internet. (by the way...if anyone actually tries to go to this site that I made up, please please please do not tell me if it is real. I would like to think there is hope for our civilization.)
So there you go. Painters and printers would need to re-do all of the materials and signs. It's no longer United...It's U-Nude-d Airlines. Or how about Amer-I-can-see-you. Nude-West? There is a Japanese airline named All Nippon but I refuse to alter that one. I do have my limits! Ads would show Lady Godiva not on horseback but straddling a 747. Gym memberships would soar! They would all start advertising in June..."Going to see Grandma this Thanksgiving? You know the new rules on the airlines! Come in now and tone up to fly." The possibilities are endless! Talk about stimulating the economy!
Honestly, I will probably end up on some sort of no fly list due to my little piece of creative writing. That will undoubtedly prevent me from getting to the television studios in New York to do interviews about how crazy I am for poking fun at the hornet's nest that is the TSA (which should be re-named the T&A) but I think it was worth it. I want to say that I am sorry that this flight attendant was forced to go through this mortifying experience. I hope that after she settles in to her new house (purchased with the proceeds from her lawsuit) that she is able to move past this...and that there is enough left over to buy a really nice motor home, because, my suggestion would be that she, like me, not fly again until the lunatics are run out of the leadership of the T&A...minus their clothes!
I apologize to my regular readers but I need to rate this entry "IMA"...for Immature Mature Audiences. The following is written in first person. But believe me when I say, "It ain't me!" (it's a little risque but I'm asking that you at least read to the last line of the next paragraph to know that I haven't completely lost my mind and there is a point) You can let me know if I have gone too far...or if you are the publisher of romance novels.
There was something about her that made lights go off. Buzzers sounded. She was blond, blue-eyed, I would guess that she was somewhere in her mid 40s. Perfect. I pulled her out of the line and over to the side. I said, "I need you." She didn't resist...she couldn't resist. What could she do? She knew the risks when she came here. I wondered if I should tell her that we could get a room. No, let's see if I can get away with it right here. After all, a hundred people or so isn't too many to be watching. I ran my fingers along her waistband, I slipped them inside, when I pulled her pants away and peeked inside she gasped but didn't say a word. I bent down and ran my hands along her thighs. She raised up on her toes. OK, I thought, I'll move on. I ran my hand between her breasts, I cupped them in my hands...my breath quickened at what I found. I said, "Please stop crying ma'am. I am a TSA agent and I am only doing my job. Now would you be so kind as to remove your prosthetic breast and show it to me?"WHAT!? Yes, you heard me right. I maybe took a little creative license with the details but a poor embarrassed woman was required to do just that. It wasn't even as if she could have told them that she would choose not to fly rather than suffer this humiliation. She is a flight attendant! She was just trying to get to work! I will not mention her name, nor will I mention the name of the woman who did the screening (mostly because it isn't in the article), and I apologize for resulting to cheap stunts to try to "catch" people searching for questionable material. You'll notice, however, that I used the word "thighs" when I could have said "milky white thighs"...oops, there I go again. Forgive me?
I feel I should say that I understand that there needs to be security for our planes. I would love it if it wasn't needed, but I know that it is. There are people who are willing to do awful things and would like to use planes to do them. I get it. But when I hear police officers saying that if they used this type of "pat down" on a suspect they would be arrested, and it is useless for finding contraband, I think there has to be a better way. Perhaps someone smarter than me, Jeff Garrett...kindergarten teacher, can think of something. We'll see, but I am not holding my breath...unless I am in the full body scanner trying to suck in my gut.
I do have a suggestion though for the airlines to make things safer. Nudity! If you want to fly leave your clothes at home! A comedian suggested this years ago...and it was wildly laughed at for being boldly outrageous! Now it seems to be the direction we're heading. Apparently the scanners that they are making people go through allow the screeners to "see" through clothes and show more curves than the average man or woman would care to admit existed. They sell stretchy clothes for a reason. We're told that the images aren't saved and there is no possibility of images being leaked onto the internet. Consequently, there are tens of thousands of these pictures that have been leaked and sites like, nakedscreeningpics.com are popping up like weeds all over the seedier side of the internet. (by the way...if anyone actually tries to go to this site that I made up, please please please do not tell me if it is real. I would like to think there is hope for our civilization.)
So there you go. Painters and printers would need to re-do all of the materials and signs. It's no longer United...It's U-Nude-d Airlines. Or how about Amer-I-can-see-you. Nude-West? There is a Japanese airline named All Nippon but I refuse to alter that one. I do have my limits! Ads would show Lady Godiva not on horseback but straddling a 747. Gym memberships would soar! They would all start advertising in June..."Going to see Grandma this Thanksgiving? You know the new rules on the airlines! Come in now and tone up to fly." The possibilities are endless! Talk about stimulating the economy!
Honestly, I will probably end up on some sort of no fly list due to my little piece of creative writing. That will undoubtedly prevent me from getting to the television studios in New York to do interviews about how crazy I am for poking fun at the hornet's nest that is the TSA (which should be re-named the T&A) but I think it was worth it. I want to say that I am sorry that this flight attendant was forced to go through this mortifying experience. I hope that after she settles in to her new house (purchased with the proceeds from her lawsuit) that she is able to move past this...and that there is enough left over to buy a really nice motor home, because, my suggestion would be that she, like me, not fly again until the lunatics are run out of the leadership of the T&A...minus their clothes!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
I Do Know Where Canada Is, Eh
It has been brought to my attention (because I am a guy and a lot of things would go unnoticed if they weren't) that I was a little late in my changing my blog tag. It now reads that it is internationally renowned (thanks to my uncle). My friend, Sophie, correctly pointed out that this blog was already international...due to the fact that she lives in Canada. My uncle lives in Thailand. It all gets very confusing...to me.
I have been to school. I have a few college degrees. I have even, yes I know it's hard to believe...seen a globe! I know that Canada is a different nation than the United States. When I flew over to Germany (another country...got one right!) I have to tell you I was a little disappointed that the states and countries were not different colors like all of the map puzzles I have ever put together have lied about. Cartoons lie too in that regard. I was so shaken. Next someone is going to try to tell me that "hill cows" really don't have two short legs on one side and two long ones on the other. AND that they wouldn't fall over and start to roll down the hill if they tried to turn around. If anyone needs me I'll be in the corner with my fingers in my ears....LALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!
So back to my uncle. He flew in from Thailand to bring his newly graduated son to the states so he can look for a job. (I know, terrible timing) We went out for dinner and we were talking about what was going on. I started to tell a story and I said, "I wrote about it in my blog. Have you ever read it?"
"Yeah, I tried to read it once but something didn't work."
"That's ok. You tried. I'm going to change my blog to internationally renowned!"
I put that on Facebook and Sophie asked, "Is that because of me?"
"D'oh! Well, to tell you the truth I am not exactly sure where you live because the ground didn't change color when we drove through the border crossings! It could have been Minnesota...Eh."
Now to alleviate tensions and hopefully stop an international incident and prevent a war before it starts (you know how those Canadians from Canadia are) Sophie and her family (one of whom happens to be my awesome God-daughter...thank you very much!) live in Quebec and I only heard one person in all of Quebec say "Eh" at the end of a sentence. And that was from a waitress who was there on a cultural exchange program, Eh.
I need to apologize to Sophie, her family, and all of the Canadian peoples who read my blog (which totals approximately....let's see, carry the two...Sophie) for leaving them off of the status of internationally renowned blog. I'm sure Blogger.com will be sending some sort of plaque to commemorate the occasion, eh.
So I am going to sign off for now. It takes a lot out of a guy to prevent a war this early in the morning. And I haven't even had my bowl of frosted flakes yet. (small "Fs" on purpose...we can't afford Tony's brand) Of course if Kellogg's wanted to send me, say, a pallet of them, I would be willing to mention them in the blog. Wait. Oops. Guess that was for free! But you won't get me to admit that my voice is an almost perfect match for the "THEY'RRRRRRE GRRREAT!" guy. Wait, D'oh!!
At this point I want to say that I was goofing around and I really wouldn't have room for a pallet of cereal. It wouldn't fit into the garage. Because that is where the brand new convertible BMW is going to go...and if BMW gives me one I will stop telling my joke that compares BMW drivers to porcupines...ask me in person, I try to keep this blog "G" rated. I do want to tell my loyal readers, both of you, that I have finally been compensated for writing this blog. I wrote, when I was sick, that I was "hopped up on Zicam and orange juice" just because I thought it sounded funny. (I was taking Zicam though) I got a comment from someone who works with Zicam. Jin wrote, "I read about you having a sinus cold. Sorry you aren't feeling well. If you go to this link you will find a coupon for $2.00 off of the nasal gel" There you have it. The power of the Blog! Seriously, Thank you very much Jin! You are the first to pay me. That might even get you a part in the movie they make about my life...I of course will be played by Tony Shaloub. I wonder if Shakespeare started this way?...eh.
OK, I really need to go now! I have a geography class to take. It's taught at the local pre-school. They know that Canadians are from Canadia. I just hope they have the puzzle that shows California is really orange. I like that one...eh.
P.S. I almost never do this...but...I found something out about my little corner of the internet. Apparently I have been international for quite some time. Whenever someone sends it as a link to a friend or shares it on Facebook, it spins off all over the globe. Thanks! Keep sending it out there! It seems there is a button on here that lets me check into where the people are who are reading my blog. I have been read in 10 countries! Including Trinidad and Tobago! (And I do not have any friends or uncles in Trinidad and Tobago or is it Trinidad or Tobago) Also, I am being read in Russia. It's the second largest group after the United States! Oh no! Maybe the blog is being used as a torture device in Siberia. Allow me to apologize again...eh!
I have been to school. I have a few college degrees. I have even, yes I know it's hard to believe...seen a globe! I know that Canada is a different nation than the United States. When I flew over to Germany (another country...got one right!) I have to tell you I was a little disappointed that the states and countries were not different colors like all of the map puzzles I have ever put together have lied about. Cartoons lie too in that regard. I was so shaken. Next someone is going to try to tell me that "hill cows" really don't have two short legs on one side and two long ones on the other. AND that they wouldn't fall over and start to roll down the hill if they tried to turn around. If anyone needs me I'll be in the corner with my fingers in my ears....LALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!
So back to my uncle. He flew in from Thailand to bring his newly graduated son to the states so he can look for a job. (I know, terrible timing) We went out for dinner and we were talking about what was going on. I started to tell a story and I said, "I wrote about it in my blog. Have you ever read it?"
"Yeah, I tried to read it once but something didn't work."
"That's ok. You tried. I'm going to change my blog to internationally renowned!"
I put that on Facebook and Sophie asked, "Is that because of me?"
"D'oh! Well, to tell you the truth I am not exactly sure where you live because the ground didn't change color when we drove through the border crossings! It could have been Minnesota...Eh."
Now to alleviate tensions and hopefully stop an international incident and prevent a war before it starts (you know how those Canadians from Canadia are) Sophie and her family (one of whom happens to be my awesome God-daughter...thank you very much!) live in Quebec and I only heard one person in all of Quebec say "Eh" at the end of a sentence. And that was from a waitress who was there on a cultural exchange program, Eh.
I need to apologize to Sophie, her family, and all of the Canadian peoples who read my blog (which totals approximately....let's see, carry the two...Sophie) for leaving them off of the status of internationally renowned blog. I'm sure Blogger.com will be sending some sort of plaque to commemorate the occasion, eh.
So I am going to sign off for now. It takes a lot out of a guy to prevent a war this early in the morning. And I haven't even had my bowl of frosted flakes yet. (small "Fs" on purpose...we can't afford Tony's brand) Of course if Kellogg's wanted to send me, say, a pallet of them, I would be willing to mention them in the blog. Wait. Oops. Guess that was for free! But you won't get me to admit that my voice is an almost perfect match for the "THEY'RRRRRRE GRRREAT!" guy. Wait, D'oh!!
At this point I want to say that I was goofing around and I really wouldn't have room for a pallet of cereal. It wouldn't fit into the garage. Because that is where the brand new convertible BMW is going to go...and if BMW gives me one I will stop telling my joke that compares BMW drivers to porcupines...ask me in person, I try to keep this blog "G" rated. I do want to tell my loyal readers, both of you, that I have finally been compensated for writing this blog. I wrote, when I was sick, that I was "hopped up on Zicam and orange juice" just because I thought it sounded funny. (I was taking Zicam though) I got a comment from someone who works with Zicam. Jin wrote, "I read about you having a sinus cold. Sorry you aren't feeling well. If you go to this link you will find a coupon for $2.00 off of the nasal gel" There you have it. The power of the Blog! Seriously, Thank you very much Jin! You are the first to pay me. That might even get you a part in the movie they make about my life...I of course will be played by Tony Shaloub. I wonder if Shakespeare started this way?...eh.
OK, I really need to go now! I have a geography class to take. It's taught at the local pre-school. They know that Canadians are from Canadia. I just hope they have the puzzle that shows California is really orange. I like that one...eh.
P.S. I almost never do this...but...I found something out about my little corner of the internet. Apparently I have been international for quite some time. Whenever someone sends it as a link to a friend or shares it on Facebook, it spins off all over the globe. Thanks! Keep sending it out there! It seems there is a button on here that lets me check into where the people are who are reading my blog. I have been read in 10 countries! Including Trinidad and Tobago! (And I do not have any friends or uncles in Trinidad and Tobago or is it Trinidad or Tobago) Also, I am being read in Russia. It's the second largest group after the United States! Oh no! Maybe the blog is being used as a torture device in Siberia. Allow me to apologize again...eh!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Cahoots!! I Tell Ya!!
I have been told...often...that people are waiting anxiously for my next blog post. While that is a compliment of gargantuan proportions, it also adds a bit of pressure...especially around report card time at school. When I have 29 little kinders to test, data to record, comments to write, input it all into the computer, FIGHT WITH THE DISTRICT SO THEY'LL TREAT ME LIKE A PROFESSIONAL AND GIVE ME A KEY TO THE STAFF ROOM ALARM SO I CAN GET TO THE PRINTER I NEED TO PRINT REPORT CARDS...ON MY OWN UNPAID TIME!!! (but i'm not bitter) Anyway, it lends little time to be able to create silliness for my blog.
...Unlessssss...I somehow wake early on a Saturday, before everyone else, so I don't feel guilty for isolating myself from the family for an hour while I pound out typographical oddities for your reading pleasure. (Unless you have been court-mandated to read this as some sort of psychological torture system that is totally against the Geneva convention...if that's the case, I apologize) Then we have Sundays where I would need to get up REALLY early in order to be able to do this...and be ready for church at 9:05. Church really starts at 9, but let's be honest...we have no idea what happens at the very beginning of church. For all we know that could be, "Let's all talk about how the Garrett family never gets here on time" portion of the morning. Maybe I'll have to wake up really, really early one day and go to church in disguise. Then I'll know for sure.
So now I want to talk about how my sister and my wife are in cahoots! I am not certain my sister is the mastermind of this whole scheme but, Susan has been the most vocal advocate for more blog posts in the past. What I do know is that Sylvia is a willing participant. What she is getting out of the deal is a mystery to me...it better be good.
This morning, I awoke early. (thus the new post) That in itself is not too earth shattering. What is peculiar is the way I woke up. Not to reveal too much information to the general public, but we purposely bought the largest sized comforter for our not the largest size bed. One reason...I have never met a bed that I didn't end up hanging my feet off the end. At 6' 3" I sometimes wonder how people taller than me can afford to have beds custom made...I can afford to curl into a ball. I try not to wonder about other people's sleep needs. Most of the time I am wondering if everyone else who is tall is made to walk in front of the group to clear unseen spiderwebs away from the path. Twice! Last night! I felt like I was in the last movie of the Lord of the Rings trilogy!
Getting back to me getting up...this morning. Our comforter, on a good night, reaches halfway to the floor on either side of the bed and off the end enough to cover my tender widdle tootsies. (sorry channeling Elmer Fudd for a moment) There's plenty of blanket real estate to go around...usually! This morning I sleepily wondered how we had suddenly been transported overnight to the Arctic Circle...and why someone had decided to hilariously dunk my feet in a snowdrift. When I shook from my delirium I realized that we were still in town, there was still snowdrift, but there was a very warm Sylvia all snuggled up in 98.9% of the covers. Had it been late enough for the sun to be out, I would have seen her blanket-stealing grin! Apparently she has been paid off!
Now in Sylvia's defense, she does not have what I call my, "sweater on the inside." It's a layer of padding that keeps me warmer than the average human. And even though I just lost 35 pounds...the hard way...I could afford to do that again, weight wise. I really don't want to go through the whole hospital thing again but you get the idea. The main thing is that Sylvia gets cold easily. I can see where this would have been an easy way for someone (Sue) to get to her. Through imaginary technology I have acquired a recording of the conversation.
Sue: "Sylvia, I LIVE for Jeff's blog. You gotta help me!"
Sylvia: "I know what you mean, but Jeff is so wonderful that I cannot stand to have him away from me, even for an instant." (This part was a little fuzzy...it was open to interpretation...I went with it)
"I'll tell you what. How about if we make it so he gets up early? You could sleep innnnnnnnn."
"I don't know. I would hate to do that to him. He needs his sleep too you know. He was just sick and in the hospital."
(unintelligible...but I am guessing that it was something about my being wonderful...again)
"But then you could have all the covers!"
"I'll do it!"
Imaginary technology is new so we're still working out the bugs. You get the gist.
So there you have it...I am awake, I am cold, and I am at the mercy of Sylvia and her conspirator(s). I still don't hear anyone moving around yet. Maybe "they" got to the kids too. If I get up and walk down the hall I will probably hear them all in the back, playing Monopoly (the LONG version), and saying "Shh Shh Shh...I think he's coming. Pretend to be asleep or Aunt Susie won't pay up!"
I hope they sleep well at night...I know Sylvia does...with all the covers!!
...Unlessssss...I somehow wake early on a Saturday, before everyone else, so I don't feel guilty for isolating myself from the family for an hour while I pound out typographical oddities for your reading pleasure. (Unless you have been court-mandated to read this as some sort of psychological torture system that is totally against the Geneva convention...if that's the case, I apologize) Then we have Sundays where I would need to get up REALLY early in order to be able to do this...and be ready for church at 9:05. Church really starts at 9, but let's be honest...we have no idea what happens at the very beginning of church. For all we know that could be, "Let's all talk about how the Garrett family never gets here on time" portion of the morning. Maybe I'll have to wake up really, really early one day and go to church in disguise. Then I'll know for sure.
So now I want to talk about how my sister and my wife are in cahoots! I am not certain my sister is the mastermind of this whole scheme but, Susan has been the most vocal advocate for more blog posts in the past. What I do know is that Sylvia is a willing participant. What she is getting out of the deal is a mystery to me...it better be good.
This morning, I awoke early. (thus the new post) That in itself is not too earth shattering. What is peculiar is the way I woke up. Not to reveal too much information to the general public, but we purposely bought the largest sized comforter for our not the largest size bed. One reason...I have never met a bed that I didn't end up hanging my feet off the end. At 6' 3" I sometimes wonder how people taller than me can afford to have beds custom made...I can afford to curl into a ball. I try not to wonder about other people's sleep needs. Most of the time I am wondering if everyone else who is tall is made to walk in front of the group to clear unseen spiderwebs away from the path. Twice! Last night! I felt like I was in the last movie of the Lord of the Rings trilogy!
Getting back to me getting up...this morning. Our comforter, on a good night, reaches halfway to the floor on either side of the bed and off the end enough to cover my tender widdle tootsies. (sorry channeling Elmer Fudd for a moment) There's plenty of blanket real estate to go around...usually! This morning I sleepily wondered how we had suddenly been transported overnight to the Arctic Circle...and why someone had decided to hilariously dunk my feet in a snowdrift. When I shook from my delirium I realized that we were still in town, there was still snowdrift, but there was a very warm Sylvia all snuggled up in 98.9% of the covers. Had it been late enough for the sun to be out, I would have seen her blanket-stealing grin! Apparently she has been paid off!
Now in Sylvia's defense, she does not have what I call my, "sweater on the inside." It's a layer of padding that keeps me warmer than the average human. And even though I just lost 35 pounds...the hard way...I could afford to do that again, weight wise. I really don't want to go through the whole hospital thing again but you get the idea. The main thing is that Sylvia gets cold easily. I can see where this would have been an easy way for someone (Sue) to get to her. Through imaginary technology I have acquired a recording of the conversation.
Sue: "Sylvia, I LIVE for Jeff's blog. You gotta help me!"
Sylvia: "I know what you mean, but Jeff is so wonderful that I cannot stand to have him away from me, even for an instant." (This part was a little fuzzy...it was open to interpretation...I went with it)
"I'll tell you what. How about if we make it so he gets up early? You could sleep innnnnnnnn."
"I don't know. I would hate to do that to him. He needs his sleep too you know. He was just sick and in the hospital."
(unintelligible...but I am guessing that it was something about my being wonderful...again)
"But then you could have all the covers!"
"I'll do it!"
Imaginary technology is new so we're still working out the bugs. You get the gist.
So there you have it...I am awake, I am cold, and I am at the mercy of Sylvia and her conspirator(s). I still don't hear anyone moving around yet. Maybe "they" got to the kids too. If I get up and walk down the hall I will probably hear them all in the back, playing Monopoly (the LONG version), and saying "Shh Shh Shh...I think he's coming. Pretend to be asleep or Aunt Susie won't pay up!"
I hope they sleep well at night...I know Sylvia does...with all the covers!!
Saturday, November 6, 2010
A Sign, A Sign, My Kingdom For a Sign
At the risk of seeming an insensitive clod, I want to write about something that struck me in a funny way. It seemed a bit off to me but it also reminded me of something I saw when I was a teenager but didn't have the courage to write about in my blog back then. I didn't actually have a blog back then so that seems to be a moot point. I also didn't have a computer back then so that presents another problem. And when I wanted a copy of something I wrote, back then, I couldn't right-click copy and paste, I needed to plan ahead and put a piece of carbon paper into the typewriter before I wrote. I would also have to make sure it was facing the right way or I would just have what I had written backwards on the opposite side of my original, and could only be read with the aid of a mirror. But I digress...depressingly I might add.
So back to this sign. I get what it is meant to do. This is designed to inform people who are visually impaired that this is a register that has no boundaries for them. Braille keypads come to mind. Possibly a little wider, for access with the cane. Maybe it has nothing food related that might tempt a seeing eye dog at seeing at dog level. The thing that struck me is, a sign? And I am not talking about a sign that makes noise like the beeps that tell people it's safe to start crossing the street at the intersection with the light. It just sits there. And...it does even less than that because apparently the only way to see this 4 inch by 4 inch, partially hidden, sign was to actually be in the lane next to it and already at the register. I suppose if someone needed assistance because they were visually impaired they could say, "Could someone please tell me which register has the visually impaired sign on it?" Then after a few minutes of searching a good Samaritan (with keen eyes, a sextant, and "blog sense") could let them know. Of course in this scenario the clerks at the registers would have to be cruelly silent in order to have the need of a sign. I'm sure they know which is the register to use.
I pointed out the incongruity of a sign to indicate the visually impaired register to the clerk and he stopped, thought for a second, and said, "You know you're right. And nobody has ever pointed that out before." Welcome to my world sir...and did you also notice that you just rang up Ice cream, candy bars, potato chips, Frosted Flakes, and diet soda for the lady ahead of us? My blog sense is tingling...or maybe I forgot to take my phone off of vibrate. I then told this clerk about the sign I had seen as a teenager, at the public library. Apparently I think that the clerks at Safeway have all the time in the world and are interested in hearing stories from their customers.
Back when the Internet was called, "The Library" and to "surf" it you needed to wait until they were open and get a ride from your mom. It was not permissible to "surf" in your underwear. (not saying that is what I am doing now...or am I?) And horny little weirdos could still look for naked stuff, but you had to go to the National Geographic section...and have a thing for pygmies. ANYWAY, once, when my mom dropped me off and I was doing a research paper for some class, (with plenty of time to spare...and my mom wasn't exasperated because, "You always wait until the last minute to tell me that you need to write a research paper") I looked over toward the reference books and I saw it. "It" was a hand-made sign. It said, "Braille Books Here." That may have been enough to make me think, "Hmm, that is curious." But this sign had three extra features that made me wonder what the heck was going on. On this hand-made sign, that indicated where the Braille books were, there were three of the tiniest arrows that I have ever seen...on a sign that talked about books for the blind. They all pointed straight down.
It was as if someone said, "These books are for blind people. They won't notice the sign. I better put a little something extra on it. One arrow. That won't do. Two arrows. Maybe. Three arrows. That's the stuff! I feel good about myself for being a useful member of society...unlike people who will write blogs on their computers...in the future...in their underwear."
In my youthful shyness I didn't ask about the incongruity of arrows and Braille so, alas, we will never know what the creator of the sign was thinking. Again, like the register in the store, it would be a very useful tool for others to help the visually impaired...but arrows? Really?
So that is the end of my tale. The poor clerk had to shut down his lane and the people behind me had to be scooted over to other registers. The ones where people know the rule of shopping conversation...The answer to, "Did you find everything?" is "Uh huh" and "How are you today?" is "Fine." I sat there and finished my odd tale. I was there so long that my ice cream melted all over my frosted flakes and potato chips...but that's OK, I drowned my sorrows in candy bars and diet soda.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
You Do See That...Don't You?
I know this is getting a little tedious but this is another post related to my health. cough cough. It's my hope and prayer that I can get back to very important issues soon. I mean, who else is covering the ridiculous signs in Safeway? Who, other than me, has the determination to make up dialogue for the animals in our house? Who, besides me, has ideas that involve inanimate objects having conversations? What do you mean "thankfully, no one else"? That is below the belt...and the pencil cup in front of me agrees! (the bobble head troll doll thinks you bring up a valid point)
So, yes, once again I am writing about my health. It is not my favorite subject but at least I have news! I just told a friend of mine (whose health concerns make me feel like I am a whiny brat who won't go down for his nap in comparison...praying for you Jeanie) that I feel like I'm in a cartoon with an inept mechanic who keeps throwing car parts to the floor and claiming, "Dis is not de problem. Dis is not de problem!" Except the car is me and the mechanics are select doctors in our health care system.
I am not generally one to complain. I like to live and let live. BUUUT...when I tell my symptoms to the doctor, explain what I am experiencing and what I am definitely NOT experiencing, and then they give me medicine to take care of the symptoms that they have imagined I have (because I am not an expert in my own skin...I only lease with an option to buy)...well then I get a little testy. Case in point. I have already explained in "Back in the ER r r" (1 and B) that my problem is directly related to my esophagus. If you already knew that, congratulations...you know more than some of the doctors I have been dealing with. If you knew that the esophagus is NOT the throat OR the stomach, congratulations! I'm calling you the next time this flares up! Sylvia and I have been trying to explain to the doctors that my esophagus hurts and I cannot eat anything for going on two and a half weeks now (32 pounds off so far...I wouldn't recommend it as a diet though) and they proceed to give me things to numb my throat.
"This doesn't go far enough down. It still hurts!"
"Hmm."
"If I drink more will it work further down?"
"No."
"Doc. I cannot handle it. What can I do so I can eat?"
"Do you want to take this other medicine? It coats."
"Coating sounds good! YES!!"
At the pharmacy...after waiting (I kid you not) an hour and a half for a prescription that had been called in hours before.
"So this medicine will coat your stomach...Sir, please don't cry."
Those days were my lowest points. Weight, emotion, and color wise. One of my friends, who also happens to be a pastor at our church, came by to see how I was doing. He actually said, "I would say you look about half as well as you did when I was here a few days ago."
"Half as well? I was planning on going to work tomorrow. If I could just stay awake long enough to drive in by myself. Also, if I could speak three words without a coughing fit, that would be nice too." Apparently when you buy multi-cultural flesh tone colored crayons "gray" is not supposed to be one of the colors in the pack. That, unfortunately, was my color this last weekend.
And then a light at the end of a long and winding tunnel...Sylvia's mom made a secret family recipe of soup that night and I was able to eat the first thing, that almost required chewing, in two and a half weeks. It helps that I love traditional German food, but I think it helped more that everything in this soup is designed to be slippery and it navigated my very swollen and very painful esophagus with relative ease.
Now speaking of the esophagus (I know, I know, I have spoken of nothing else for days...) I'm not sure I explained the results of the camera. Normal is supposed to look like the inside of a pink garden hose. Mine looked like a bright red collection of fingers all trying to touch each other in the center...and all of them with numerous pain receptors built in. Presumably designed that way so if you ever leaned onto a hot stove with your esophagus you would feel the heat and move. When the doctor went on his fantastic voyage to the center of Jeff, he decided to gather souvenirs! He calls them "biopsies" but we all know that he has a collection of very odd looking snow globes on the shelves in his office!
I finally heard from THE doctor yesterday afternoon. I actually spoke to two doctors, my personal doc and the specialist who believes that there really is a part of the body named esophagus. My doctor yelled at me for even thinking about going back to work (Sylvia was behind her in total agreement...but she restrained herself and didn't wag her finger at me). The specialist finally gave me a diagnosis. I nearly cried. At this point in the process I told her that I wouldn't have cared if it was awful news, just tell me that I am not crazy. I have a very painful inflammation due to a viral infection. It's sort of like shingles, but on the inside. It finally fit all of symptoms. Better yet, there is a treatment. It seems that it has been going on too long to attack it aggressively but the treatment may help. The best news, I can stop taking EVERY OTHER medication that they have been prescribing over these two weeks. I feel like tossing each one at the doctor's office shouting, "DIS IS NOT DE SOLUTION!! DIS IS NOT DE SOLUTION!!"
The treatment is a long process of antiviral medications that need to be taken as evenly spaced as possible. I have set the alarms on my phone! I am going to do this right if it kills me! (well maybe I should choose a different phrase there) The thing is, when you have been through as many medications (and allergies) as I have in the past you start to actually read the information pages that come from the pharmacy. You know, Take with plenty of water, Take with food, Do not take this on days that end in "Y"...the usual. Well I had heard that antivirals were nothing to be trifled with so I went ahead and read the two pages of warnings that came with them. Pretty standard stuff really. I may be drowsy. Check. I shouldn't operate heavy machinery. Checkeroo...(as an aside...does everyone realize just how heavy vacuums, dishwashers, and washers and dryers are? I mean those are some heavy machines...just sayin) I should take with food. Well, I haven't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so...Oh wait, I can take it with milk. OW, but check. Oh what's this...May cause hallucinations. Umm... Seriously? I have no experience with that. Well I once saw a pair of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum characters walking hand in hand in the snow (complete with the propeller beanies) but that was after being awake for a very long time. I just don't know what to do with this information. Hallucinations?
Now everything I see will be suspect. Is the TV telling me to buy stuff...even though it's not turned on? hallucination. Do I hear, "Be Our Guest" being sung quietly behind the kitchen cabinet doors? hallucination. Is the dog really reading the newspaper? hallucination. Did the kids really put their dishes into the dishwasher without being asked? HALLUCINATION!! I think the only way to be sure of anything is to go around poking people to see if they are really there. It may get a little tedious but I have to be sure. You may not want to come over to visit for a while.
So I am on the mend. I am three doses into my newest, most promising (and troubling), medication. I haven't taken my esophagus out for a test swallow yet, but I plan to eat something a little more substantial than soup or Ensure soon. And I think that I have turned a corner for the better. Sylvia thinks that I am a much better color and I may be able to go back to work as early as Monday. I think things are looking up! If you don't trust me, ask the six foot stalk of celery who has been helping me write this...ignore the sombrero (that's a hallucination!)
So, yes, once again I am writing about my health. It is not my favorite subject but at least I have news! I just told a friend of mine (whose health concerns make me feel like I am a whiny brat who won't go down for his nap in comparison...praying for you Jeanie) that I feel like I'm in a cartoon with an inept mechanic who keeps throwing car parts to the floor and claiming, "Dis is not de problem. Dis is not de problem!" Except the car is me and the mechanics are select doctors in our health care system.
I am not generally one to complain. I like to live and let live. BUUUT...when I tell my symptoms to the doctor, explain what I am experiencing and what I am definitely NOT experiencing, and then they give me medicine to take care of the symptoms that they have imagined I have (because I am not an expert in my own skin...I only lease with an option to buy)...well then I get a little testy. Case in point. I have already explained in "Back in the ER r r" (1 and B) that my problem is directly related to my esophagus. If you already knew that, congratulations...you know more than some of the doctors I have been dealing with. If you knew that the esophagus is NOT the throat OR the stomach, congratulations! I'm calling you the next time this flares up! Sylvia and I have been trying to explain to the doctors that my esophagus hurts and I cannot eat anything for going on two and a half weeks now (32 pounds off so far...I wouldn't recommend it as a diet though) and they proceed to give me things to numb my throat.
"This doesn't go far enough down. It still hurts!"
"Hmm."
"If I drink more will it work further down?"
"No."
"Doc. I cannot handle it. What can I do so I can eat?"
"Do you want to take this other medicine? It coats."
"Coating sounds good! YES!!"
At the pharmacy...after waiting (I kid you not) an hour and a half for a prescription that had been called in hours before.
"So this medicine will coat your stomach...Sir, please don't cry."
Those days were my lowest points. Weight, emotion, and color wise. One of my friends, who also happens to be a pastor at our church, came by to see how I was doing. He actually said, "I would say you look about half as well as you did when I was here a few days ago."
"Half as well? I was planning on going to work tomorrow. If I could just stay awake long enough to drive in by myself. Also, if I could speak three words without a coughing fit, that would be nice too." Apparently when you buy multi-cultural flesh tone colored crayons "gray" is not supposed to be one of the colors in the pack. That, unfortunately, was my color this last weekend.
And then a light at the end of a long and winding tunnel...Sylvia's mom made a secret family recipe of soup that night and I was able to eat the first thing, that almost required chewing, in two and a half weeks. It helps that I love traditional German food, but I think it helped more that everything in this soup is designed to be slippery and it navigated my very swollen and very painful esophagus with relative ease.
Now speaking of the esophagus (I know, I know, I have spoken of nothing else for days...) I'm not sure I explained the results of the camera. Normal is supposed to look like the inside of a pink garden hose. Mine looked like a bright red collection of fingers all trying to touch each other in the center...and all of them with numerous pain receptors built in. Presumably designed that way so if you ever leaned onto a hot stove with your esophagus you would feel the heat and move. When the doctor went on his fantastic voyage to the center of Jeff, he decided to gather souvenirs! He calls them "biopsies" but we all know that he has a collection of very odd looking snow globes on the shelves in his office!
I finally heard from THE doctor yesterday afternoon. I actually spoke to two doctors, my personal doc and the specialist who believes that there really is a part of the body named esophagus. My doctor yelled at me for even thinking about going back to work (Sylvia was behind her in total agreement...but she restrained herself and didn't wag her finger at me). The specialist finally gave me a diagnosis. I nearly cried. At this point in the process I told her that I wouldn't have cared if it was awful news, just tell me that I am not crazy. I have a very painful inflammation due to a viral infection. It's sort of like shingles, but on the inside. It finally fit all of symptoms. Better yet, there is a treatment. It seems that it has been going on too long to attack it aggressively but the treatment may help. The best news, I can stop taking EVERY OTHER medication that they have been prescribing over these two weeks. I feel like tossing each one at the doctor's office shouting, "DIS IS NOT DE SOLUTION!! DIS IS NOT DE SOLUTION!!"
The treatment is a long process of antiviral medications that need to be taken as evenly spaced as possible. I have set the alarms on my phone! I am going to do this right if it kills me! (well maybe I should choose a different phrase there) The thing is, when you have been through as many medications (and allergies) as I have in the past you start to actually read the information pages that come from the pharmacy. You know, Take with plenty of water, Take with food, Do not take this on days that end in "Y"...the usual. Well I had heard that antivirals were nothing to be trifled with so I went ahead and read the two pages of warnings that came with them. Pretty standard stuff really. I may be drowsy. Check. I shouldn't operate heavy machinery. Checkeroo...(as an aside...does everyone realize just how heavy vacuums, dishwashers, and washers and dryers are? I mean those are some heavy machines...just sayin) I should take with food. Well, I haven't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so...Oh wait, I can take it with milk. OW, but check. Oh what's this...May cause hallucinations. Umm... Seriously? I have no experience with that. Well I once saw a pair of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum characters walking hand in hand in the snow (complete with the propeller beanies) but that was after being awake for a very long time. I just don't know what to do with this information. Hallucinations?
Now everything I see will be suspect. Is the TV telling me to buy stuff...even though it's not turned on? hallucination. Do I hear, "Be Our Guest" being sung quietly behind the kitchen cabinet doors? hallucination. Is the dog really reading the newspaper? hallucination. Did the kids really put their dishes into the dishwasher without being asked? HALLUCINATION!! I think the only way to be sure of anything is to go around poking people to see if they are really there. It may get a little tedious but I have to be sure. You may not want to come over to visit for a while.
So I am on the mend. I am three doses into my newest, most promising (and troubling), medication. I haven't taken my esophagus out for a test swallow yet, but I plan to eat something a little more substantial than soup or Ensure soon. And I think that I have turned a corner for the better. Sylvia thinks that I am a much better color and I may be able to go back to work as early as Monday. I think things are looking up! If you don't trust me, ask the six foot stalk of celery who has been helping me write this...ignore the sombrero (that's a hallucination!)
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