Tag: Lydia

Family health report, March 2017

Oh, my spouse made orange JELL-O with chunks of pineapple!

Anyone get the license plate of the truck than ran me over? Not literally, but…

Let’s back up.

Friday, March 10 – The Daughter was having some muscle pain, and I stayed with her, figuring she was dehydrated or something. But then she developed a fever, and felt lousy, as we tended to her with cold compresses and OTC medicine.

Saturday, March 11 – She seems better. Her fever is gone. She was helping the cleaning for my annual hearts party, which was a lovely event. But beware the two of diamonds! I theorized that she willed herself to be well, because she knew it was important to me.

Sunday, March 12- She’s feeling worse again, and her fever returned. The Wife stayed home with her, while I went to church.

Monday, March 13 – the Wife took the Daughter to the MD, who diagnosed her with strep throat AND either a cold or the flu.

Tuesday, March 14- you may have read how the snow forecast was overblown in the big cities such as Philadelphia and NYC. Well, it wasn’t overblown in much of upstate NY. My hometown of Binghamton got over 30 inches, about 3/4 of a meter, and Albany got a total of 20.5 inches, over half a meter. It was the first time in 36 years, I’m told, that the state closed down, allowing “non-essential” personnel to stay home without having to use a vacation day.

I shoveled the first six inches, no problem. But attacking the next nine was much harder than it should have been. It WAS windy and a near blizzard, but still, I should have been able to handle it. I was grateful for The Wife’s assistance to finish the job. I went to bed early, around 8:30 p.m.

Wednesday, March 15 – I was going to drag myself to work, which, in retrospect, would have been a mistake. But since the Daughter was still recovering, I tended to her. By the afternoon, though, I asked The Wife to take me to the urgent care place. After about three hours there, which included various tests and a chest x-ray, it was determined that I had BOTH pneumonia AND influenza, despite having gotten a flu shot back in November. My wife decided to sleep in the spare room, which I thought was wise.

Thursday, March 16 – Did not sleep well. I was so congested I thought I was suffocating. My attention for anything – the computer, TV – is about 15 minutes. I can’t read a book or anything that requires focus. Oh, my spouse made orange JELL-O with chunks of pineapple! You’d be amazed how for that 10 minutes, how almost happy I was. Being sick will do that.

Friday, March 17 – Tried to write a blog post, but I kept writing the wrong word – “committed” when I mean “commented,”, e.g. I DO know the difference MOST of the time. And it’s exhausting to sit up. We have seven movies (DVDs) we got in anticipation of the snowstorm, but can’t focus enough to watch any of them, but for one we all saw back on Tuesday.

Saturday, March 18 – Lots of strange dreams about aliens, Burger King, the Berman family (my great-aunt Charlotte’s people). The one thing I remember in a dream was that the dreams you have do represent a memory of your life, but it may be an event that has not yet taken place. I think the dreams are a direct result of being dehydrated, probably from some medicine finally kicking in.

This feels like drunk blogging. I’ve started about six posts this week, and, including this one, the number completed so far: one.

Tuesday, I see my primary care physician. Until then, I’m not operating any heavy machinery.

The Lydster: Middle school transition

Her father dropped off her gym clothes, once.

We’ve been very lucky in getting the Daughter to school. In kindergarten, she went where the Wife worked. And for grades 1-6. the Daughter attended a school that was built only a couple of years before she entered, located less than a block from our home.

Inevitably, though, we had to deal with what I called junior high but what is now generally referred to as middle school. Among other things, this means taking the bus at a specific time.

By the schedule, that means at 7:32 a.m. a block away. However, the vehicle is occasionally early, she learned to her frustration. Or late.

Still, the dedicated service, provided by the local transit entity CDTA is a whole lot more reliable than the contracted yellow bus company that still provides rides to kids going home late after extracurricular activities such as sports and theater. In fact, the Daughter has found the yellow buses SO undependable that she has mastered taking the CDTA home, even though it involves two buses.

The trick about middle school is having eleven different classes in the eight periods and keeping track of which days are gym days, for instance. Her father dropped off her gym clothes, once.

She also has to deal with homework. Her mother is always suggesting that she put it away the night before, but The Daughter finds this suboptimal. She ends up checking her bag in the morning again to see if the homework is in there.

The result of this is not unlike this Luann comic strip from September 4, 2016. Substitute house key for car key and her ID for her charger and it’s about right. Frankly, this whirling dervish was exhausting. And her father dropped off her homework that she couldn’t find, but he did, once.

But an interesting thing: by Thanksgiving, she started hanging her ID on the front door, putting her homework in her folder, usually, and in general, taking more responsibility.

The Wife was wowed by my patience during the process, but it was my opinion that you can’t tell her what to do, but that she has to, like Dorothy in OZ, learn it herself.

Health Report: January/February 2017

It was particularly disappointing timing too.

A few weeks ago, a reporter for our local newspaper posted on Facebook, trying to find out whether this stomach flu – is THAT what they call it? – was around the area. Subsequent to that, I’ve been reading anecdotal tales about the nasty bugger that has hit several of my friends.

On Martin Luther King’s holiday, after coming home from seeing Hidden Figures at the movies, we realized the crockpot had been disconnected prematurely. But we thought the meat, rice, and carrots that had cooked in there would be OK. I’m known for having an iron stomach, consuming even some long-in-the-tooth that my wife wouldn’t touch. I think it’s the Protestant ethic of not throwing out things unless absolutely necessary.

But a couple of hours later, I’m having digestive distress. I figure it’s food poisoning, and that it would pass. But I visited the bathroom two or three times overnight. And the Daughter was likewise stricken at some level. We were both home on Tuesday and Wednesday that week. We all went to school/work Thursday, and I was about to head out the door for choir that night when I had a recurrence.

I went to work on Friday, but at noontime, suffered yet again, coincidentally when the new President was being inaugurated. I felt so poorly that I actually had to STAY at work, because I wasn’t sure I’d make it home. I missed the local Women’s March that Saturday because I was still feeling woozy.

Then at the beginning of February, the Wife was felled by not one, but two, ailments simultaneously, the stomach flu PLUS some upper respiratory thing with a sore throat. The combo made her looked more washed out than I had ever seen her but once. I would have stayed home with her that Thursday except for The Daughter, with a return of her own stomach flu, but still in better shape than her mother, stayed home and brought fluids and light food.

It was particularly disappointing timing too. The Daughter went on a church ski trip over that first February weekend, and The Wife and I were going to a play, a movie, maybe dinner; didn’t happen. And Monday, she still felt weak.

The potential of a snow/ice delay was on the minds of both the females in the house this past Tuesday, but it didn’t happen. But they DID get Thursday (yesterday) off, and I know they were glad for the rest, though my wife spent a goodly amount of time doing paperwork for school.

We all had gotten flu shots, so what we’ve been suffering from must be something else, unfortunately.

Being sick, then the extra cooking and cleaning I did has made my blogging output quite pathetic recently, for instance, two posts in a week. I guess why I write ahead.

 

The Lydster: meeting at Mickey D’s

The Daughter was going to go on a school field trip to the state capital building and the state museum for the bulk of a school day in the middle of December. The opportunity was available only to the students who were doing well in their classes.

When I used to work downtown, I used to donate blood at the Empire State Plaza, fairly religiously, every eight or nine weeks. Though I’d been back working downtown for over a year now, I had fallen out of the habit until mid-December.

After I had donated for the 159th time, by their records, I stopped at McDonald’s. The odd ritual I used to have was going to Mickey D’s every time I gave blood, and there’s one in the ESP concourse, not too far away.

I’d ordered my food, but I hadn’t received it yet when this horde of kids show up. It’s my daughter and her classmates! The line is so long that I figure I’ll be done eating by the time they get their food. I DO bring her some French fries and ketchup while she was in line, which she appreciated, though her classmates, I’m told, ate most of them.

However, a lot of her classmates weren’t ordering food, just standing in line with their friends. So the Daughter and two of her friends sit down and ate with me. But what happened to the turkey and cheese sandwich The Wife had packed for the Daughter? The girl hands it to her father to schlep home, naturally.

I finish eating and kiss the Daughter goodbye on her forehead, as one of her friends rolls her eyes. I walk away, but double back behind that friend, who I know better than any of my child’s buds, and make a sound right behind her approximating a belch. The Daughter and her other friend laughed hysterically.

What a rare, and serendipitous, midday meeting with my girl.

My parents, and my career choices

Did we HAVE scheduled meetings with guidance counselors?

les-trudyMy good friend Carol, who I’ve only known since kindergarten, has some follow-up questions about the Lydster’s career choices, which were really about My career choices.

Two questions based on this… why did you not go into law?

Because I did very poorly in a pre-law course at New Paltz. I loved the subject, but Bill Dunn didn’t love my answers. Or maybe it was because it was an 8 a.m. course and I was late sometimes. This failure threw me into a tizzy, because that was my intended life path, and then I had NO idea what I wanted to pursue.

Do you wish your parents had made more suggestions, not along the lines of pushing as much as of possibilities?

Not really, because it just wasn’t in their skill sets. My mother was not one to push us, because that was not her nature in much of anything. She was a “go along to get along” type.

She was very good with numbers and was a bookkeeper or teller for most of her adult life. But she didn’t really think of it as a skill much as, say, her husband arranging flowers or playing guitar or painting or doing all sorts of things. I dare say that he could be a bit intimidating.

For his part, my father, according to his military record, had only three years of high school. I think that part of the friction that I had with him was that I was not very good at working with my hands, the things he excelled in. But I was book smart – would you accept that analysis, Carol? – and he was not as adept, but figured things out as he went along. He was outwardly gregarious, and that wasn’t me.

We did have some areas in common: watching sports together, especially the minor league baseball Triplets and the NY football Giants; playing cards, particularly pinochle and bid whist; and most especially, thank goodness, music.

So he was not likely to offer me career advice because, and I say this without a lot of remorse, he wasn’t always understanding me very much at that time. He certainly didn’t grok what motivated me, and this became even more acutely true in my early twenties when we didn’t talk, at all, for nearly six months, before I relented. This is odd in some ways because my antiwar, and other, activism was molded in no small part by his civil rights activism.

I said two but here’s a third – do you think as I do that our HS counselors were useless?

I actually have no recollection of ANY HS guidance counseling whatsoever, except one passing conversation with Allan Cave, who was the assistant principal at the time, and that only because I knew him from church. Did we HAVE scheduled meetings with guidance counselors, because if we did, I never received the memo?

Just as an aside you wrote about a few math/science awards Lydia received but there’s no mention of any options related to those. Is she just not interested?

Actually, it has determined what level courses she has in 7th grade, and that could lead to courses she could take in 8th grade that could get her high school credit. So it puts her on a more rigorous academic track in several subjects than she might be otherwise.