post what you say

"Oh my, my," said the doctor this afternoon as she looked up my nostrils and then down my throat.
"Is it, is it - an infection? A tumour? A mouse? I have mice sometimes."
"It's bad post-nasal drip."
"What?"
"Oh yeah, you need to clean that sucker out."
"And and I'm coughing and I'm weak and dizzy and headachy and you know, my voice, it's a near laryngitis situation - "
"Yeah, post-nasal drip can cause all of that."
"you need to nasal snort."
"Is that an operation?"
"No, no. Or you could get some saline from the store. You know, clean it out, that will definitely help you."
"Have I mentioned the unwell feeling? The laryngitis thing? You know I get laryngitis a lot.
"It's not infected yet, so you are lucky. But use the saline."
"Should I take a year off of work?"
"Uh, no, no need for that."
"I'm not myself. I think if I talk loudly I'll lose my voice completely."
"Hmmm. You could that's true. But really, it's post-nasal drip."
Oh.
"Can you not write that on my doctor's note? I'm a little embarrassed."
"No need to be embarrassed. It can cause sore throat, coughing - it started as a cold."
"Did you want to hospitalize me then? Is that ultimately what you are saying?"
"Not this time."
"Okay, but I'm just saying."

carrying on

It's all a bit more like laryngitis now. laryngitis and exhaustion really. no appetite, hardly at all.
I got the substitute - not the one I thought I'd get, I asked to get, but someone else.
She too is good, but doesn't know the level.
Is sweet and breakable this sub is.
I offended her quite a lot earlier this year when I made a joke about how it was my newspaper she was reading.
So I had to explain a lot.
I think she got it.
but it took more energy out of me than i wanted it to.
Not her fault.
Nothing to do or not to do with her.
This other sub. would have been bata bing, bata bang, one, two, three. We know each other well and she's done the level longer than i have.
but oh well.
no matter.
i'll be out tomorrow for sure.
i'd planned to take the afternoon off anyway for an important doctor's appointment.
that i will still drive across town for.
and hope my voice holds out.
load up with tylenol.
tylenol is a magic drug really.
Takes away a lot of my sick shakiness.
and hopefully the headache that is building.
I don't know how the chronically ill.
stay at home day after day after day.
I'm on day four and can't say I'm enjoying it too much.
Funny virus. It took awhile to decide what it wanted to be.
If I used my voice too much now to teach at my union job
I would lose my voice
and that wouldn't be good
Like autistic people
and those with Aspergers
I crave routine
when it is interrupted
I feel distressed
and alone
it would be nice to have roommates about now. they could even be out
just knowing that they would come home at some point would be enough
"Maybe I should move back to Winnipeg," I tell my beleagered friend, Tracy. Tracy has some chronic back pain of her own and maybe an ulcer.
I know I spelled beleagered wrong there but oh well.
admitting it is half the battle.
Winnipeg isn't the answer of course - I just want the care of my mother and the no-rent-would I have to pay house.
I'd go nuts of course.
But in my vulnerable state
I crave it.
i've been walking home twice a week as exercise.
won't be doing that again for awhile.
knew i shouldn't have walked home in the cold rain last week.
I know I have a great capacity for self pity.
especially when I'm light headed and sugar-low.
how is beleagered spelled? don't worry, i'll look it up.
i'm going to the doctor this afternoon.
so i can wait an hour or so
and she can say
you have a virus.
go home and rest and relax.
it's an exciting outing really.
i have no decent food in the house
and no desire to buy any.
And still I don't sleep well or unbroken.
I will try not to nap today to help with that.
have you ever been
alone for days on end
and sick
i'm certain there is a trick to not feeling odd about it
i just want someone sitting in my living room knitting
so i can hear the clacking of the needles
while i try to sleep
next topic
i saw a W5 documentary yesterday afternoon
about a church in Hamilton, ontario
Dominion Christian Church I believe it is called
that has become a cult of sorts
the young people in it - and it is mainly young people
just don't see it
but they have shut out their families
shunned them
because they don't see behind the curtain, as one young woman said.
Their pastor is egomaniacal and deals with all complaints
with sarcasm from the pulpit
he says blowjob and fucking in his preaching
to prove he is cool
and knows where it is all at
he has no accountability whatsoever
he is the top of the heap
I left a message on their machine yesterday
saying please let me know if you have a website
I'm worried about that girl,23, they interviewed
who has shunned her family and is pressing charges against them
for kidnapping her and attempting to de-program her.
It is usually those from religious families, they said, who get caught up in these things.
I can see that.
The church was rocking with music
and emotion.
They interviewed a few church members, including one young woman, who said, without meaning it I'm sure, that sure, she had to "give up her own way of thinking" but it was awesomely worth it.
One young man said he was at the church 7 days a week.
And sure enough on their machine it mentioned services four times a week.
They won't see it until they see it.
I think
that what they think is behind the curtain and so profound and living out god's will
is actually mainly
hype and an excellent feeling of community
and screaming preaching
and singing all in unison, repeating endlessly, our god reigns
The hype will keep you up there for years if you let it
It's when you fall that you have to be careful
lots of thoughts
on my fifth sick day.
I think god exists
more in the silence
that's where the real bravery is, I think
to sit without anything or anyone or anywhere
and know

oh for the love of still being sick

Well, I stay still but it has only been since Friday and only yesterday that the cold decided where it wanted to be for the moment.
I'm not a well sick person or a good sick person. Shocking, says my wee fan base.
The insomnia continues its merry march through my life. Ridiculous really, since this cold makes me feel exhausted and weak. And the evenings are the worst. Last night I was like, oh god, feel awful. Off I went to my bed at 8 p.m. and just lay there. That was relaxing as my mind was rather fever driven. But around 12:30 a.m. I had just about had enough. Well, nothing to be done really. So today, after very little sleep, I'm sick and insomnia-exhausted. Oh brother.
Sorry to complain so much. It's hard for me to describe the feeling in a way my wee fan base might understand. I just get all panicky and feel freaked out. It comes from my anxiety and from feeling lousy together. Which makes me feel worse and blah blah and the cycle continues. Not sure whether or not I will feel up to going to work tomorrow or not. It's in my voice now, this cold, and my work requires a whole lot of continual loud talking. I need, absolutely need, my voice for Tuesday afternoon, for a "very special" appointment. The last few times I've had colds it has turned into some nasty laryngitis. And it all drags on and I sit around alone for far too long.
Anyway, this is where I am at. Anxiety and panic are yucky things and I don't recommend them on the whole.
New topic.
Well, I haven't really done anything the last three days so not sure what to say here. Whitney Houston, in recent pictures, is looking much healthier. Divorce and getting off of drugs agrees with her.
Wee fan base, I need you. Leave me a joke in the comments if you would. Or come and babysit me in my apartment with the terrific view of the city.

wee fan base, I'm sick!

and as you know I don't suffer quietly.
I woke up with a sore throat, the usual swollen gland (left side, on the neck) and feeling weak and lousy.
The throat is a bit better - I think it is moving into my sinuses - but I'm weak as heck. Like I can only write for a couple of minutes before lying down (laying down? I forget).
I'm missing both fun and unfun things this weekend as a result. poor me. The worst part for me is lying around by myself - well at least I have a view now. Although oddly I still miss my basement suite - I think it was the comfort of having my landlord and landlady quietly upstairs, hearing them walking around. An apartment is much more isolating. My new place is infinitely bigger and better than my basement suite but I still miss it. Weird. I wasn't this attached to a place I lived for for 8 years. My landlords didn't even know when I was sick and we never talked a lot - I just knew they were there and vice versa. And it was a house next to Trout Lake and I loved that.
Anyway, yes, it leaked and flooded and such like that there.
I'm just not good at lying around - even though I'm reading lots, watching tv, etc. If I knew that it would only last the weekend I would be calmer I think about the whole thing. I tend to get sick for long periods of time. I'm glad that I've banked a few work hours so that if I am sick, I can still get paid. We only get 7 sick days a year and I used those up four months into the year.
Some people would give anything for three or four uninterrupted days of rest - I like it but need a few intervals of people.
fall back on Saturday night, people. An extra hour for me to feel better. It's a weird virus - mainly just weak and exhausted. Weird.
eeek.

heed Sleepy or, you know, uh oh

Sleepy, who I've never met but is a good pal of my friend Janis and has a great wee blog herself, has demanded an update. I'm vaguely afraid of sleepy so I will comply.
I think I'm not so good at comforting the unwell. A colleague just returned to the ESL school fold, after four months away. Two of those months were spent in the hospital battling a scary case of ulcerative colitis. She lost, I believe, upwards of 40 pounds.
"Hey!" I say, upon seeing her today in the staff room, looking fragile and a bit pale. "You know my sister had colitis and has an internal pouch now."
Colleague looks interested and vaguely distressed. "Oh? I hadn't heard of an internal pouch."
Now I feel helpful and knowledgeable. Oh boy.
"Yeah, she's had it for nine years. If you have colitis and not Crohn's, you have that option over an external pouch."
why am I talking pouches? She is getting her colitis under control.
Flailing a bit I add, "she's in Ottawa but you could - i could give you her e-mail."
My sister has never given me permission to suggest this. And now, of course, her small intestine is partially blocked again and she is quite discouraged.
"Well, she's not doing so well now but you know, usually she is. Okay, well see you later."
Clunk. that sound was my colleague's hope hitting the ground. oops.
My poor pal Tracy. She fell down her outside stairs last week, re-injuring an old back and foot injury. Soft tissue damage abounds. The doctor prescribed pain meds but they are making her sick to her stomach, violently so.
"I just had a piece of white bread," she told me on the phone as her stomach settled a bit.
"NO!!!! just have water. Let your stomach settle." I shouted my concern far too loudly.
"I just wanted to see if I would feel better," she said in a meek voice.
She's got a call into the doctor to see if he can prescribe something else. The pain keeps her up at night and is affecting her ability to cope. her wee daughter is reacting badly to the stress, making things, of course, more stressful.
"Argh," said she, "you are right, I shouldn't have had that white bread. I have to go to the - " phone slammed down. Oh dear. Oh dear.
Topic change.
I walked home twice this week - one hour at a fast clip. And yesterday when I did it it was pouring rain and I wasn't dressed for it. But I'm proud of myself a bit. It's killing my knees though. I felt a bit verklempt as I remember how I few years ago I could jump on a trampoline with abandon and walk up and down stairs without hearing my knees. I do enjoy walking fast - not as great as running was, but good indeed.
And the weather has turned to rain and cold - and I no longer have to worry about being flooded as I am on the third - and top - floor. No sewage flooding either. Sure, there is the incident of the mouse in the daytime but so far, no others have been seen. I can hear them in the walls though on mornings that I sleep in. I've still got peppermint everywhere and the useless but comforting ultrasonic thingy. and the poison behind the stove. And I'm keeping everything covered. So I figure I've done what I can do. Those little buggers get you when you are least expecting it.
And finally, for no reason, I leave you with my favourite quote: "when I feed the hungry they call me a saint. When I ask why they are hungry they call me a Communist." - Dom. Helder Camara

a few high school type thoughts and other things

So, like, there is somebody who I know and who knows me who is annoying the heck out of me. Like GOD. I should totally just let it go. Totally but like you know she's like all under my skin and as if I don't have enough to worry about.
There, that felt good.
So I did the gulu walk which was 10.25 kilometres. It took about 2.5 hours because we were a big group and banners and balloons were involved. A few of my co-workers were there and I got to know a couple of them much better. So that was really great. And I enjoyed walking despite my knees! My knees! My knees!
I'm feeling rather blah so don't have much of anything to write. Crushing, I know wee fan base, I know.
I will try to think some important thought and get back to you.

a weekly roundup

T.R. Knight is gay - why do I care? I don't really, although I was surprised. He's George on Grey's Anatomy in case you are wondering. He came out before he got pushed out. Good on him. He'll get lots of attention now - probably lots unwanted. I bet if I knew all of the actors on tv shows who are gay I'd be surprised and have to lie down for awhile. Ha!
here's a tidbit of a conversation with my landlady, Leona, the other day. i actually really like her and she does take her job seriously.
'Oh," said she, "you didn't get the poison for behind your stove? Every suite gets one of those."
"Yeah, I'm a bit worried that the mice will drink it and it will die on my floor."
"No," said she, referencing pest control, who give her the poison. "They just dehydrate from the inside out, die in the walls, they don't smell." (Now, Denise, please don't send me another panicked comment about how that is not true. I'm not overrun with mice, nor will I be. Believe me, panicked comments just panic me and I have enough panic already to panic a small nation. Thanks for your concern though).
Behind the stove the poison is certainly safer than in a cupboard. If I have a small child or a pet over though, I'll be extra careful. Indeed.
Haven't seen a mice since Sunday. Being proactive, I bought a ultrasonic thingy (pestchaser) from Home Depot. Apparently the noise, which human ears can't hear, drives mice batty. And I've got pure peppermint oil all over my kitchen, doorways and window openings. Seem mice hate the smell. oh, the things you learn.
Remember Harry?
"Harry's girlfriend lives with him," says Leona, "she's the one with the giant goiter on her neck. She won't get it fixed though. we've tried. Took her to the hospital twice but she just ran away."
I could weep at the humanity of it all, the story possibilities.
"Harry doesn't shower, eh?"
"no, he does. He just has an odour problem."
poor Harry, sorry I judged him.
Later that evening my smoke alarm went off while I was cooking and then intermittently for awhile. I couldn't disconnect it because it is wired in. I tried and got zapped.
up came Leona.
"I'll get Dave. He's my other helper. He knows electrical."
"Does he smell too?"
"A bit," she admitted, laughing.
New smoke alarm installed.
Late this afternoon I was at the laundry machine (there is a set on each floor, very nice) and I saw two cops come through. One stared at me as I mouthed, "cops."
They went into an apartment near mine. through the door I heard, "thank god you are here."
They left five minutes later and I again mouthed, "cops" Kind of a tourette's thing really.
Today when I was walking home from work again (a long walk that is killing my knees but so good for me), this guy in a car drove by me slowly, staring at my chest.
"Nice breasts," he smiled. What. I swore at him. Could you imagine a woman passing a man and shouting, "nice package!" Of course, he would probably be flattered. I decidedly wasn't. Although I did purchase a new bra at La Vie En Rose today and ooh it is good. I hate bra shoppng.
Marty, my sister is all blocked up again and may need to go back in the hospital again. Have you been praying about my sleeping? I actually slept WELL two nights this week.
ESL. I gave the students the journal topic of a "special day for them." You know, things like graduation, etc. J., a funny young man (funny strange) wrote - I kid you not - about the time he was at a Korean subway station and went to the bathroom. Number 2 was described and then he said he hadn't had any toilet paper and had to wipe himself with what I think was a tampon. It was a special day because he always remembers to bring toilet paper now. I was so surprised I nearly bent in half laughing. But that was topped by another teacher's student who wrote about the threesome he'd had with another man and a woman and the resulting guilty orgasm. I kid you not.
And tomorrow I'm doing the gulu walk - www.guluwalk.com if you are interested in reading about it. If you'd like to sponsor me, there is definitely still time as I can mail a cheque in later.
Off to get the laundry out of the dryer and perhaps more adventure.

catch the mouse, Harry

Catch the mouse is not only a Korean game, it is now also part of my life.
So you know my new apartment? I knew it had some mice problems but of course never expected to have to deal with it due to the well-developed DENIAL area in my brain.
Anyway, I reached under the sink for some reason today and I saw in my peripheral vision, a wee black or brown mouse go whizzing to the other side of the cupboard. I slammed the door shut and began to pace and moan. I phoned the landlady and left a message and sounded a bit crazed.
I phoned a few friends but no one answered except workmate and pal, Kristina, who seemed rather calm about the whole thing. My freaking out seemed both to worry and amuse her. "We had mice in toronto," said she wisely, "just open the cupboard door and go out for awhile. The mouse just needs a space to get out." I believe I moaned again.
Ok, get some control. I noticed that my normal level of anxiety in this situation seemed even more anxious so while trying to figure this out, I obsessed about that. I went under the cupboard again and pulled out the garbage can (ok, not covered) and some of the plastic bags. I decided to throw out the garbage and the can and the plastic bags.
Downstairs I went. I saw a sign on the landlady's office door that said SHE WAS OUT OF TOWN but that Harry in 109 was available for emergencies.
I banged on 109.
"Yeah," I heard.
"Harry, it's 304, I have a mouse! A mouse, Harry!"
Out he comes and gets some sticky pads and up we go. He opens the cupboard door and says, "there it is." I literally fly to the other end of the apartment. I begin to keen and weep quietly.
"I'll just put this paper here. The mouse will get stuck to it. You'll hear a lot of squeaking but just ignore it. In a few hours when the shrieking stops, you can take it out. It will be dead."
"Can't you grab it now, Harry?"
"Nope, it's running too fast."
Okay. Okay.
Out I go to Home Depot and ask about mouse traps. They all seem to involve seeing A DEAD MOUSE so I won't do that, I say to the Home Depot guy. My only other option he tells me is this high pitched pest control ultrasound sound thing that is supposed to repel mice and rats. It's $30. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I buy that and a new, well-lidded garbage can and go home.
Before I go upstairs I knock on Harry's door.
"Harry, it's 304 again. please, I'm a wuss. Can you come up?"
Up comes Harry. He opens the door gingerly. I'm hiding behind the curtains. He smiles broadly. "Guess what?" he asks like the cat who swallowed the canary, "it's on the pad."
"Is it dead?"
"Not yet."
"Why isn't it squeaking?"
"It's given up."
He gets ready to leave.
"Harry! please remove it."
"Do you have a plastic bag?" I'd thrown them all out but had one from Home Depot.
Harry takes it out, puts it in the bag, puts it on the floor and stomps on it, mercy killing rather than a slow death.
I ask him to move my fridge so I can see if there are mouse droppings there and I ask him to use a bit of steel wool to cover up some holes. All the while he is doing this the mouse is in the bag on the floor.
He notices I have an extra lock on my balcony door.
"That's good," he says.
"Yeah, extra security,a bad area."
"Oh yeah," he says, "oh yeah." He shakes his head. "All kinds of things happening outside. Cars on fire, windows smashed. My god."
"But at least you don't have cockroaches."
"do you get those here?"
"oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah, yeah."
Harry puts down a few more sticky pads and gets ready to leave.
"The mice come from everywhere. There is no controlling them."
Nice guy, that Harry, but apparently also the voice of doom.

nearly a week, so sorry wee fan base

I see that I haven't blogged in nearly a week. My wee fan base must be up in arms. Up in arms I say.
Not much exciting happening. I'm tired like a tired person, what with sleeping badly and today I jogged partway home from work. There's a great traffic calmed area known as the Adanac Bike Trail and it is beautiful and quiet. I walked for half an hour, jogged for half an hour and then walked a bit more. Excellent. Jogging kills my skeletal system, particularly my knees, but if I can get back to doing it regularly then my anxiety should go down some. It's like anxiety is all of this energy and if I don't burn it off it stays inside of me, building up even more. It is jogging that helps with that and no other physical activity I know does it as well for me. I hope to walk home once a week, jog part way once a week and maybe go swimming once a week. I've said once a week a whole lot there. I've just been so tired that I've had a hard time finding the motivation.
I'm starting to get to know my hood a bit - there's a great Japanese restaurant/takeout place about a 10 minute walk away on Hastings. I got a nice beef teriyaki on rice for $5. Can't beat that. There's lots of shops and in certain spots a neighbourhood feel. In the quieter areas, the leaves are falling and it is quite beautiful. There's going to be the 2nd annual Hastings-Sunrise community meetin on Oct. 23 and I'm going to go to that, maybe see what I can do. Ultimately, I'd love to live in strathcona in the peaceful area there, but for now, I want to settle in here (traffice noise and all). I'm getting a bit more used to the traffic and with the windows closed at night that makes it a bit easier.
Oh wee fan base. I've had some more work trouble, something about most Koreans disliking my teaching style and I had a wee and inappropriate cry in my boss' office. Comment cards were filled out and it is the comment cards that can get you fired. "These things tend to go in cycles," said my boss, "you've had a lot of these cycles. I hope they stop." She was supportive overall, particularly when I got teary and blurted out my sister's recent sickness. But my friend Janis made a good point when she noted that my boss may try to be supportive but she doesn't actually offer any concrete help. True enough. She does make some suggestions though.
That's twice I've cried at work in the last week. My sister is doing better and is out of hospital, they never did figure out the problem but for now she is doing much better so that is great.
As usual, I'm being awfully hard on myself and trying to will my anxiety out of me. That is not working of course, but just making it worse. I want to overcome myself really, really badly.
Tired now, off to watch the Margaret Cho DVD, Assassins, that I had on hold at the library. Should be funny!

a plenty of fish phone conversation

Alright, you might as well all know - most of my wee fan base does - I'm on plentyoffish.com trying to meet a man. What can I say. Work Melanie recommended it to me and it's free and I'm bored.
I've had a date or two off of it, nothing serious but that's okay. I'm trying to be a tad positive because if I'm any more negative my positive ions will cancel out and I'll attract magnets or affect the earth's pull or some such thing. gravity, wrinkles, etc.
Huh? Sorry, I've just finished off those moving potato chips and had a lot and also i haven't exercised in awhile due to a kind of feeling unwell and blah blah, you get the idea.
Anyway, so I e-mailed C., C. e-mailed me, tonight C. called me. these are always rather stressful, these first phone things.
"So,", I say, "you work shift work."
"Yeah."
"What do you do?"
"I work at Safeway."
"You stock shelves?"
"That's right."
He asks what I do, I tell him.
"I could never teach high school," says he, "my brother does but I never could do that. I hated high school. The teachers were all losers."
His stoner voice is hurting my ears a bit. I wondered then if I had more chips.
"I don't teach high school." I explained about ESL.
"Do you also go to school or - " I asked.
"No, just Safeway. Like a lot of girls will say if I'm not a lawyer they don't want to talk to me. And so they don't. I've talked to five girls on plenty of fish, gone out with one. I love my job. I have no desire to do anything else. I mean I have some education, it's a funny story, it doesn't matter though, because I love my job. I have total job satisfaction. I mean not total, nobody does. Like if you offered me a million dollars an hour, that would be good. Some girls, they won't talk to me. Education isn't everything."
I stood up then, did a little cleaning. Mouthed to myself since there was no one else in the room, "oh my god." I kept saying "uh huh," once in a while. I ask a few questions.
"Yeah," says he, "I haven't had a serious relationship in five years. I was on phone dating till plenty of fish. My buddy told me about plenty of fish. Phone dating, that's what I was doing and the girls there were all losers. Like it was free for girls so they probably didn't have any money."
"I've lent out big sums of money to people. Like $20,000 and they haven't paid me back. I guess I'm naive. I'm big-hearted see, but naive. I talk to these guys at work and they're divorced and they have nothing, their wives took it all. It's like that with me except I was never married."
"Money isn't everything. Why should I work extra hours? but if anyone tells you that money isn't important they're lying."
"I talked to this one girl on here about six times. She kept saying we should get together but when I flipped the tables on her and suggested a time she never called me back. I don't know, my friends say she could really have been busy but I don't know. It's so hard to know. like you (me? me! I'm back in the conversation)you could be a lawyer and he's a lawyer and your both lawyers but he could be a total psycho. You just never know."
Finally, I couldn't take anymore. Nice talking to you I speed said, hung up the phone and paced around a bit.
Please, wee fan base, even in jest don't suggest I should have given him a chance. Please, it will send me over the edge.
and Marty, keep praying for my sister if you wouldn't mind, they're stymied as to how to help her so she's stuck not eating or drinking and in hospital. Heck, get your whole church on the case. Oh and please say hi to Debbie. Could she e-mail me? I don't seem to have her e-mail address. Tell her I'm not skinny anymore, being 40 and potato chip eating has wiped that all out. I have no $$$ due to moving and work slowdown soon but I still want to see you guys a whole lot.

a few ESL tidbits

"So N," I said during her one-on-one student-teacher time, mandated by my place of employment, "it's your attitude that is a bit of a problem."
I''d been nervous about mentioning N's attitude to her, because, well, she has a friggin attitude. My sub noticed it on Monday as well. Chewing gum, staring blankly, looking bored and pissed off, that's N.
She looked at me more blankly than usual.
"N," I waded into the treacherous attitude situation. Careful, N. and all of the students hold the purse strings.
"You don't seem happy. You seem angry all of the time. Bored. And sometimes, you are just rude."
Blankness.
"Are you bored? Angry?"
"No, no, I'm just tired," she tells me this like she might actually mean it.
"Oh. Well, you seem rude sometimes, you know."
Blank stare.
"So," I ask hopefully, "it is totally okay if you want another teacher next session."
"Yes," she says, temporarily withdrawing from utter blankness, "I want male teacher. I don't know,I understand male pronunciation better."
I nearly weep with joy. She had been sucking all of the energy out of the class for four weeks.
H. H was almost a big of an energy sucker as N.
H. sat in class everyday looking exhausted, bored and like a bratty kid. These are not kids by the way. They are in their 20s and N. is married.
I make lots of jokes in class, the students generally appreciate it. Two of my students - the great 51-year-old W. and young C laugh until their head hurts. Even some of the Koreans giggle. Teacher so funny they often say.
"Oh, H.," I said to her one day as she stared off into her I'm-too-good-for-the-world space, "won't you laugh, have some fun."
"Not funny," she informed me.
Her counselling was fun.
"You look exhausted all of the time," I said.
"I am," she told me, mumbling something about late nights.
"Do you want to see the Korean counsellor?" I queried, tempted for some reason to put her face into a pumpkin pie.
"No," said she.
Today we had the monthly afternoon communication assessment, where the students orally answer questions to see if they've actually retained any information. After nearly sending me into a coma with her flat affect, H. decided she had a last minute question.
"Next session, new classroom," she told/asked me.
Normally, I might ask why, be concerned and interested.
This afternoon, tired from insomnia, from worrying about my sister, from the chips I can't stop eating (left over from my moving), from the bumpy bus rides that upset my stomach, and from students who have flat affect, I had one word for her.
"Absolutely," I said, hustling her out the door. I added a few more words. "I want you to be happy. I want you to learn well." Translation: yee haw!!!!!!!! Yee frigging haw!!!!!!!! The two biggest energy suckers in the history of the world are leaving my airspace! Alert the media!
Group dynamics are fascinating.
Meanwhile, I have another Japanese student who I find out only today, after four weeks with her, that she is married. This is apparently a state secret. She practically curdles in mortification. My god, perhaps her husband is a Scientologist? When it was her turn to do the communication assessment, she looked at the questions like she had never seen them before. She had. Three hours earlier we had practiced them in the morning class. THREE HOURS.
"I don't want this topic. I no hobbies."
"You have no hobbies?" I repeated, "not a single hobby."
"No," she said, "I don't like hobbies."
"MAKE ONE UP. FOR THE LOVE OF HARE KRISHNA AND POTATO CHIP INDUCED WEIGHT GAIN MAKE ONE UP."
She asked the communication assessment partner if he had a hobby.
"I like to travel," he said.
"Oh," she said, clearly relieved, "I love travel."
"Is your husband now or has he ever been a member of the communist party?" I mumbled in her direction.
She looked at me, temporarily removing her blank stare, "What?"
"I said are you bringing kimchi to the potluck?"
"I don't understand."
"Your mother wears army boots."
"What?"
"Have you ever wished it would just rain ripple potato chips?"
"Huh?"
Next question.
Some of the students in the class are great - the aforementioned W., who I had the pleasure of also teaching an afternoon class to twice a week, and a couple of other students as well.
H. had some trouble with the presentation for the class in the third week of the session. I explained I believe five times and gave them a detailed handout indicating that it had to be a demonstration. I demonstrated a demonstration. All of the other students understood, I worked with her to make sure she got it. Come presentation day, she talked about superstitions in Korea. I clung to the vague hope that somehow she had a ladder or a black cat to show us. The presentation was to be 10 minutes. Four minutes after she began she raced to her seat.
"H., you were supposed to do a demonstration."
"oh," she said, standing up. Hope rose again.
"Black cats bad." she said and sat down.
But then another student showed us how to play the great game of Catch the Mouse and all was well.
Names may have been changed to protect the blank starers.

my ears, the noise!

People keep assuring me that I will get used to the noise from my new apartment. I hope so! It is so not relaxing to come home tired and tired and tired, put my tv up high and hear the trucks, cars, motorcycles on and on and on. It's worse now because the windows are open I realize but I honestly don't know how i will ever get used to this. My bedroom is slightly less noisy and cooler so maybe I'll go in there until 8 or so, when the good shows start. It gets a bit quieter after rush hour. My former flooding basement suite was an oasis of quiet that I didn't appreciate before. literally the only sound I'd hear were the landlords walking around upstairs, which was rather comforting. Yes, I'm complaining but yes, it is noisy.
I tracked down my sister late this afternoon at Ottawa Hospital. There are only about four hospitals in that area and I lucked out on the first try. I was pleased to hear her sounding fairly calm. Her voice is oddly pitched because of the NG tube. Turns out I was wrong - she has an IV for fluids but the tube goes up her nose and down her throat to clear out her stomach continually. Yikes. She was dreading it as she has had it before and it is a nightmare to have put in, she says. The doctors slide it through (ugh) and keep saying swallow water, swallow water. The gag reflex of course kicks in. No valium or anything! Now it doesn't hurt but just feels like a constant sore throat. They were supposed to do a CT scan today but for some reason didn't and will do it tomorrow. This will help them to know more. Gross part about to come up: she has continual diarrhea and is still really bloated despite not having eaten in a couple of days. She's a braver person than I am that's for sure. She's been through similar things with her colon nine years ago but still it is hard for her. My niece is worried but not too much, she says and Scott has taken the week off of work to be with Cheyenne when she finishes school. Sherri doesn't want my mother or me out there, makes sense, it is actually more stressful I think to have to look after out-of-towners. If she has the surgery I may go out during some of the recovery period when she is at home.
Oh boy the noise, what am I going to do. I don't want to move for at least 6 months because it is stressful and expensive. I'll have to tough it out I guess. Sorry to complain, oh fan base, it just helps my stress to vent. And vent and yup, vent.
This too shall pass.

moving, NG tubes and new beds

So I'm writing from my new abode! Yee haw. I had some excellent help yesterday - 7 very kind friends - 5 cars and a dodge caravan. People pushed, pulled, carried, took apart, put back together, they did it all. Me, I sat and ate chips. Not really. My friend Michelle said that apparently people on the street commented how amazed they were that so many people were helping one person move. I may complain about my boring life but my friends have always been there for me. That is more amazing than I can say. And one friend even brought two family members. That is dedication.
My apartment as I said is on the 3rd floor, corner suite with a huge balcony. The noise from Dundas - the cars, the trucks, the cars, the trucks, is really, really loud but I'm hoping to adjust after awhile. Dundas is a major thoroughfare both to and from North Vancouver. Even now at 8:30 p.m. I can hear the cars. Rumble rumble. But I shall adjust.
Tomorrow I try out my new route to work - bus instead of skytrain! Yee haw.
Being a glass half empty kind of a person I see lots of problems with the suite - cigarette burns all over the carpet being one. But I'm going to get an area rug to help out with that.
I know it just takes me awhile to adjust to new situations like this, particularly given my anxiety issues. My friends have been very encouraging. It's not all bad, not at all, I am very excited. I have lots of light being south facing and that is nothing but good (and warm!). I'm sure I'll get used to the noise . . .
I bought a microwave today and it looks all shiny and new.
My new bed was delivered yesterday and it is really comfortable and wonderful. I love having a separate bedroom again - not having a living room/bedroom type thing. My futon is now my couch and not my bed. The bed is a queen size and brand new and so comfy cozy. Well, I'm still not sleeping well but at least my back will do better
Upsettingly, I found out tonight that my sister is in the hospital. That small intestine problem I referred to a few blogs back and was thought to have cleared up has returned. The surgeons have put her on a feeding tube and are most likely going to operate to unblock the blockage. This will be the fourth major operation of her life. Yikes. My mother in Winnipeg is beside herself with worry. I'm hoping to get Sherri's hospital phone number tomorrow and will go to Ottawa if Scott, her husband, thinks it would help. Scott has lots of famiily and friends support and I'm grateful to his church family for being a strong support. In his e-mail, he said that both he and Sherri are feeling positive. I hope my mom goes out there - it would be helpful to my wee 9-year-old niece and to Sherri. She just needs to leave my dad at home. Don't know if she will do that but dad tends to, well, make the situation worse with his extreme anxiety. don't mean to sound harsh, that's just how it is. everyone ends up calming him down.
So it's a difficult time for the family. We are not close physically or psychologically or emotionally so it's harder I think. I do try to live in denial that illnesses/problems won't come up but of course they do and more so as we all get older.
I can't even chew ice to mellow out a bit - I don't have an ice cube tray yet! probably better. and it seems my apartment freezer isn't frost free - oh brother.
eeek. Oh fan base, me and my anxiety. I have a really good and kind and generous friend who told me yesterday to not be anxious and relax. I had to tell her that her saying that actually makes it worse. She absolutely meant the best and is a fairly mellow person herself. To me, unfortunately, the more I try to relax and not appear anxious, the more anxious I get. Wow, that sentence made me anxious.
Anyway, moving, sister's illness,major surgery on the horizon, senior citizen mother all upset. If you are a praying sort (i.e. Marty) please pray for my sister. Scott requested that. If god cures her without surgery and my parents never get sick themselves, I'll lie down and speak in tongues. Joking, people, I'm joking. Off to read on my new bed. I think a little action on the bed would de-stress me considerably. Ha!