Some Sort of Itis

The medical assistant led me into exam room 1 and said, "I'm just going to get some information from you before the doctor comes in."

I knew the drill. I've been a frequent flyer at the orthopedic office for many years. 

"So, it's your wrist? What do you think it is?"

I let out a little laugh, "Well, I'm going to say it's some kind of 'itis'- tendonitis or arthritis."

My favorite doctor came in a little later and moved my hand and wrist in all kinds of directions. He then sent me off to the x-ray room to get "some film."

The results came back quickly and the doctor returned to go over the X-rays with me.

"Yup, it looks like Arthur got you. As you predicted, it's arthritis."

Apparently, arthritis runs in my family because it seems like ever since I turned 50 that diagnosis comes up often.

Doctor M. prescribed some anti-inflammatories, injected some cortisone in the joint to calm it down, and sent me on my way.

"As always, thank you," I smiled,  "Hopefully, you won't see me again too soon."

Waiting

March carries on, and all I can think is, How long until Spring Break?

I remember looking at the calendar in the fall. My eyes glazed over when I saw that Spring Break wouldn't start until Saturday, April 12. Certainly, this has to be one of the latest dates for Spring Break in my 32 years of teaching.

One thing I've learned is how crazy the next few weeks will be. It's unclear if my students even know when our break will begin. Just today, I remarked that we have a 4-day week next week. Hands shot up, and a chorus of "Wait, what?" followed.

Yes, if they are surprised to find out that Monday is a holiday for Eid, imagine how surprised they'll be a mere 9 school days later when they find out it is finally time for Spring Break.

The Sound of Silence

One thing I love about my house is the quietness. Even now, as I sit here I can close my eyes and pinpoint each sound I hear.

I hear Alice behind me, scratching on the scratching post, and then the soft touch of her paws as she jumps down and strolls up the stairs to see what's happening out front. Edgar is by my side, sitting meatloaf style on the arm of the sofa. We disagree on this, but he prefers to use the arm for his scratching post. I hear the weight of his body resettling into position as he turns around on the couch.

By turning around, he gets a better look out the window so he can investigate the other thing we all hear- so many different kinds of birds chirping outside. A ruffle of activity in the hedge outside the back window has all heads turning. Is it the wind or a sparrow?

Listening is a wonderful meditative activity. It allows me to leave the noise and chaos of middle school behind and focus on the smaller, quieter world in my house and backyard.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I went to Nationals Stadium this afternoon to catch the final Spring Training game of the season. The local team was taking on my home team, the Baltimore Orioles, for the event.

Of course, I'd been watching the forecast since last Friday. Yes, rain was on the radar. Even so, I felt optimistic.

As we got out of the car, Tracey asked, "Did you bring a raincoat?"

"No," I smiled, "I'm hopeful."

Hopefulness did not win today. Neither did either team that came to play.

The rain continued, and eventually, the weather delay turned into a cancellation.

Although the afternoon may not have gone as planned, I got to hang out with a friend, eat a ballpark hotdog, and get excited about the upcoming baseball season.

Let's go, O's!

Cookie Break

The Girl Scout cookies were just the distraction my friend and I needed today. Julie and I were just about at the top of the first of three hills we'd be walking up as we headed home from our Sunday afternoon walk down to the Del Ray section of Alexandria. 

The young blonde girl was actually a Brownie. When asked, she proudly told us she was 5 and in kindergarten. She also told us all about her nice teacher, Ms. Palmer. Apparently, our new friend goes to a bilingual school, and that nice Ms. Palmer tells her students what words mean in English "even though the principal says she shouldn't."

Our little sales girl allowed her mom to handle the transaction, but I'd credit the sale to her adorable smile. 

Thanks to her, the Girl Scouts of America sold another 3 boxes today. 

She Has Confidence

"I told you, it's because I know basketball!"

That was my mother's reply when my sister wondered out loud how it could be that my 89-year-old mother usually wins our family bracket game.

According to family lore, my mom was quite the high school athlete. She played softball and basketball and apparently performed well in both sports. 

She's been picking winners for the men's and women's bracket for several years. Yes, she watches some college games on weekends, but there's no way she watches enough to do as well as she does.

 "I told you, it's because I know basketball!"

My mom is not an unhappy person, but she can be pessimistic. My sister and I often refer to her as Eeyore. She is not exuberant. Her humor is dry. Honestly, I'm pretty much the same way. Even so, there is one place I remember her smiling, and smiling big. 

Years ago, I took her to one of the NCAA Women's tournament games in College Park, MD. We were there to see the Lady Terps play the Tigers of Princeton. We got there plenty early so we could settle into our seats for all the pregame festivities. I took a picture of Mom to send to my sister, Jeen. 

Jeen's reply was quick. Oh my god, she's smiling! Women's basketball makes her smile.

When I woke up this morning, I was tied with my mom and brother for 1st place in the family bracket pool. 

I enjoyed my moment, but with St. John's loss to Arkansas, I dropped to 2nd place. 

My mom? Yeah, she's in 1st place because she knows basketball.

Doctor My Throat

I took a mental note of March 13 last week.  It was on March 13, 2020, that I left my classroom on what was supposed to be a two-week break.

Of course, that didn't quite happen. Besides cleaning up and collecting supplies, I didn't step back into my classroom for almost a year.

Last week, I took time to recognize how nice it is to know that Covid is mostly in the rearview mirror. Or so I thought.

Yesterday afternoon, I noted my 6th-grade teammate, Alex, was wearing a mask. At first, I thought she was just taking precautions because she was heading to Colorado this weekend for a short ski vacation with her family. 

"What's with the mask?" I asked.

"Kaiser just called. I've got f****** Covid!"

She felt absolutely fine. Her home test from the day before was negative, but her PCR test was positive.

Suddenly, my stuffy nose felt stuffier, and my scratchy throat felt scratchier.

I was supposed to meet with my writing group that night. What should I do?

In an instant, it was Covid times again, and we were all trying to figure out how best to keep from getting it.

In the end, my home test was negative. Even so, the writing group decided it was best to wait a week before we got together.

I looked up the pollen count. Tree pollen, my archenemy, was through the roof.  I quickly closed every window in my house. They'll stay that way until June or July.

This morning I felt so much better.