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We are making Thanksgiving dinner today. It isn’t easy to do as I get lightheaded standing for long and almost every effort results in exhaustion and the need to go lie down a bit. After a week of this, there is a part of me that wonders if what I got is permanent viz. a sort of chronic fatigue syndrome. What’s more likely is I am older and recovering from bugs takes longer that’s all.
After years of fancy turkey cooking involving brines and bags and funny foil hats (for the bird not the cook) it seems just as well to pop the thing in the oven for some hours and leave it alone. Someone is a firm believer in cooking the stuffing the bird and not in a separate pan. It is an annual ritual for me to quote vague but alarming warnings about thems who cook stuffing in the bird die of salmonella or something and Someone like a true spouse snorts with contempt and does as he pleases. Come summer he will quote similar sources when I make solar tea and then it is my turn to tell him to go fly a kite. People get awfully queer about what they find risky.
This afternoon I will make a proper green bean casserole made from blanched green beans that remain slightly crunchy and green, not olive and mushy. The sauce is made from real mushrooms and cream. Only the fried onions remain unaltered from the original recipe, although I quaff them up with buttered and flavored panko. It beats what my ancestors in Michigan made by a country mile but Someone still only takes a no thank you helping. Stirge.
Someone likes to make a pumpkin pie, which he did early this morning. After dinner we will eat it with relish, or to be more specific, with whipped cream for him and Edam cheese for Urs Truly. He despises the stuff that shoots out of a metal can, so he makes the effort to whip it himself. Good for him I say. Edam cheese appeals to my Dutch heritage, something my maternal family has been doing ever since they came over from Friesland.
Chances are we will take a few bites of everything and call it a night. It seems a waste of time and money to make so much food for so little consumption. One would be better off with a Swanson frozen TV dinner. We’ll put it all away and try to eat off of it through December.
I hope I am well enough to return to work tomorrow. I can only imagine the pile-up having taken two days off prior to the long weekend. I did pop into work the other day just to renew prescriptions; there were over a hundred. My own prescriptions are lost in the post again so tomorrow’s agenda includes calling OptumRx and finding out where the hell are they.
Tomorrow is World AIDS day, despite the current government decision to pretend it doesn’t exist anymore, their latest nasty move. I will wear a red ribbon in memory of all I knew who are no longer here.
I know it is Saturday as ‘Grumpy old geeks’ put out their weekly podcast episode. Otherwise these past seven days have been bit of a blur. I am feeling better this morning but I am still weak; my respiratory system continues to create crud with cough. I weighed myself the other day: patience above! I am down by 7 kilos! Flu has managed to make by New Year’s Resolution where willpower has failed. Monday morning I am scheduled to have a fasting blood work done. I am curious to see how that goes; I’ve been more or less fasting for a week.
We canceled Thanksgiving dinner, hoping it is just postponed until we feel better. At first we thought Sunday would be good but if I am supposed to be NPO after 7PM our best bet is to make it today. Alas, Babylon! We are both none too interested in food. It’s a shame to have all that food go to waste, so we may make it and try to freeze it for later, minus a few bites to call it dinner. The biggest bother is the turkey. We better cook that sucker before salmonella sets in adding food poisoning to our woes.
All this downtime means I am more privy to Someone’s binge watching. I hear it but I don’t see it. It is like hearing someone in public talking on their phone and hearing only their side of a sordid conversation. He is listening to some show with awful people (they sound British) being quite mean to each other, using the most frightful language, and sounding not at all proper Brits. Do business-types really talk like that? Do people who stab each other in the back become chums next week given the need? They seem to be victims of their own making. It is confusing, and as in Othello, the nonsense would be cleared up if someone with a moderate sense of morals would step up and explain a few things, point out the facts, and most of the shenanigans would cease. But then I don’t suppose there would be drama if the protagonists had any sense. Oh the pain.
After I post this I will get Someone to turn on the oven and get the bird going. I hear him hacking away in the kitchen so perhaps he’s already doing this. On the other hand I hear British-sounding people shouting and swearing so I suppose said drama continues. Count me out. I get enough of that from the news to last me a life time.
Years ago I created a holiday playlist of music consisting of the ‘best’ version of every Christmas carol there is. I got out my CD collection and went to work. I would examine each carol and figure who has the best version of it, and put it on the list. Over the years this list has grown as long as a winter night in Canada as I keep finding ‘new’ songs and remembering old ones I hadn’t included.* It is one thing to remember to include ‘In the bleak midwinter’ (one of my favorites ) but it is another to decide which one of the many versions out there takes the place on the list. I thought I would amuse the Spo-fans with some of the choices presently on the list. I am curious to see if people agree or disagree, and if you disagree please make your recommendation.
Angels from the realms of glory. Annie Lennox. When I first heard Ms. Lennox’ version I brought tears to my eyes. The power! The harmony! It feels indeed heaven has come down with tidings of great joy.
Ave Maria. Kathleen Battle. Rumor has it Ms. Battle can be difficult to work with but she has a simple soft ave Maria that isn’t too slow or maudlin.
Blue Christmas. Elvis Presley. Who else dares sign this song but The King?
Button up your overcoat. Dick Haymes. He has some fun with this one, conveying the fun of the season without too much seriousness.
Carol of the bells. Pentatonix. This tune is often tedious, rushed, and clanging – like my men. But Pentatonix makes is a spectacular harmony.
Huron Carol. Heather Dale. I love the minor chords of this carol, and Ms. Dale signs it in three languages, Huron, French, and English.
Rejoice and be merry. Maddy Prior. I am forever grateful for Will H. (the dear!) who introduced me to this folksy singer. Her version is charming and approachable; something you would want to dance to.
Rockin’ around the Christmas tree. The partridge family. Every playlist needs some kitsch and The Partridge family fills the bill. They slower, softer songs are cloying but Rockin’ suits their style fine.
Suzy Snowflake. Rosemary Clooney. A Christmas playlist ought to have some songs for the small fry, something to remind us of our first Christmases. Only later in life did I connect the dots it was the great Rosemary Clooney who was singing my favorite version. Note: my later-in-life hearing of Suzy Snowflake she sounds a bit of a floozy.
A Virgin most pure. The Boston Camerta. I sense my New England roots hearing this oh-so-protestant church song. Their version is simple as would have been in small towns in Connecticut in the 1800s.
White Christmas. Bing Crosby. His is the best. Do not dare to question this.
If the was a jolly read, I can list some more.
*Some songs are excluded as they are nasty: ‘Grandma got run over by a reindeer’ and ‘The Christmas song’ to name two. Oh the horror.
Patience above! It is nearing a week of having flu or whatever the damn thing is.* I have never been so sick. I called out of work the two days leading up to the Thanksgiving Day weekend, can you imagine? I am feeling better today enough to sit up without passing out, which allows me to write. Until this morning I was obliged to be horizontal.
Curious! I have no appetite whatsoever. Normally I am perpetually hungry but I haven’t desired anything for four days now. It must be just how thems on weight loss medications feel, at least that is what they tell me: they have no sense of hunger. I should weigh myself to see how much I’ve lost, although that would be water and muscle mass loss.
The worse part about it all is the breathing. My nose is clogged and the upper parts of my lungs produce enough phlegm to choke a horse, or at least me. My coughing it profound. Although I am tired I cannot sleep given the inability to breathe. Yet there is no fever; there was a mild one last night, which broke, giving me a modicum of hope the bug is beaten. Someone’s timeline is about two days ahead of mine; while he still is coughing he felt OK enough to go to work today Thanksgiving.**
It’s infuriating lying there not able to do things. I’ve been too tired to read or listen to books. Dishes and clothes are piled high as Fafner’s hoard. Amazing how the place falls apart when one is sick.
On the positive it is quiet, the quietest I have experienced in ages. Normally there is Harper to lie next to in bed and feel her warm furry breathing against me, but she isn’t here. Outside, people are traveling to their Thanksgiving destinations and gathering with friends and family. Last Sunday we bought food to make a meal for Friday but right now I haven’t the energy to do it. Oh well, that’s how the old mop flops. Can a frozen turkey that is thawed by refrozen I wonder?
I need to go lie down now. Staying upright long enough to write this has tuckered me. Please send positive healing vibes my way or at least a good bourbon for which to make hot toddies. They don’t do much for flu but it makes being sick less unpleasant.
*I didn’t test but I don’t think it is COVID given I have a sense of smell.
**Our versions differ that mine has lower GI symptoms, worse luck.
Note: I am recovering from the flu. I think it is over but I am as wiped out as an orange given too many trips their the presser. I dusted off one of my ‘back-up’entries. Spo
Every morning when I come to work I look through the roster to see the names of who’s scheduled. There were the usual names and no new patients; it was a a day of ‘med-checks’. There was one name that made me pause. It was the name of someone I haven’t seen in years. Didn’t he move away? Yes, I checked my last note. In it he stated he was moving overseas and the chart was closed. I was intrigued to find out why he was back in The States. The patient came in very upset. The move was not expected nor was it wanted. An unforeseen health tragedy happened forcing him and his spouse to move back for health matters. We discussed what needed to be done and how I could help him and some provisional plans and meds were started. By the end of the appointment he stated he was already feeling a lot better, knowing I was here, waiting for him as it were.
Step into The Way-back Machine and travel with me to Chicago circa.1990 when I was a novice shrink going to supervision. I remember telling Dr. Miller my frustration with my patients who were not getting better and I wasn’t doing anything for them. She told me I was doing something important: I was staying with them through all their ups and downs. I will often hear a patient say ‘you saved my life mister” while I say to myself ‘you haven’t changed an iota; what was it I did that was so helpful? Answer: I stayed with them.
I’ve had the same job for nearly twenty years. This means I have seen some patients for that long. Many don’t seem that much better but they nearly all report satisfaction with me.* This is why we should never close charts; people can wander the world but feel some connection they can return on a mere pull of the thread.**
In many Mythos The Steadfast Other is usually a female waiting for her male Beloved to return to become One again. Penelope from the Odyssey comes to mind as does Solveig in ‘Peer Gynt’. Off the top of my head I can’t think of an example of the female element wandering the world while her man waits at home. If you can think of one, I would be keen to know it.
This axiom isn’t very exciting but it is important. Being there for another is probably the most important thing one can do for another. Some people, like teenagers or thems with personality disorder will try to test this viz. despite their shenanigans will you still be there for them? Anyone who has ever had an adolescent remembers how they berated you for not giving them slack in their teens but in their 20s thanked you for not succumbing to their B.S.
All things come to an end if you wait long enough. I am already getting anxious inquiries when I am going to retire. Someday this may happen – or I too will have an unforeseen medical tragedy like my patient. It is hoped that when the Teacher passes the Pupil will have grown enough to become his or her own Teacher, with the past one incorporated into their Psyche, reading to be there for others in the next generation.
*There are a handful who tell me they are no better but the keep coming in anyway. I’ve learned I don’t try to improve them; this is not what they really want.
**The record time between appointments is eleven years, can you imagine? Interesting that they were more or less the same as when I last saw them, just eleven years older.
My cold/flu is worse. We were supposed to go to an open house party and a silent movie, but no such luck. As a remedy for colds ‘The Scientific Statement of Being’ is a flop. I am now taking Walgreens cough/expectorate syrup as well as tea. Tea is the panacea of all ills; do not dare to question this. Admittedly I am still sick but tea makes it less unbearable.
People get awfully queer about what to do when sick. When I fall ill I don’t eat anything. From experience I know this doesn’t do any harm in the long run. My loss of appetite is a sort subject of Someone who feels I should be eating something. He doesn’t go as far as making something for me ho ho ho; it is more the principle of the thing. When I am sick he suggests I stay home from work but he doesn’t do likewise when he is ill.
When sickness cancels your day, all the chores come to a screeching halt and the world doesn’t seem to worse for it. Someone bug is 24 hours ahead of mine; he is feeling better enough today for him to go the open house, which suits me fine. I can have the house to myself. Silence Sunday seems a good idea.
Another perk about being too sick to do anything is catching up on my reading. I have several back issues of ‘The New Yorker’ and ‘Cooks illustrated’ to get through. These along with ‘GAMES’ are the only magazine subscriptions I still have, and it is an effort to keep up with them. I have piles of untouched GAMES magazines in a cupboard in The Dragon Room, more than I can do if I were to retire today and do nothing but puzzles.
With that said I may make a box of M&C, something I haven’t ate in ages. If there is a smidgeon of appetite of something, I should take the opportunity. The stuff is nasty and not at all good for you but it sure tastes good when you are sick and down in the dumps. It makes a strange accompaniment for reading ‘Cooks Illustrated”.
I have a very bad cold or the flu or something worse. Someone picked it up while working with a group of kids bussed in for a show and then he brought it home. Exposure to kiddie bugs is like smallpox to the Indians; we are not accustomed to such bugs. Someone is worse off than I. He is drinking Dayquil while I am applying The Christian Scientist principle to dismiss the virus as Error and unsee it. So far no such luck. Alas, Babylon! the bug refuses to unsee me. I don’t believe in extra doses of vitamins or herbs make any difference, so there is nothing to be done really but drink fluids and keep it sweet. I canceled the opera and the symphony, which was a loss but the sensible thing to do.
We decided to have a Thanksgiving dinner. Someone works Thursday but he’s off Friday so we can make a dinner then. We have green bean casserole, which I make every other year at my insistence. Someone takes his ritual no-thank-you. In my defense, I don’t make it the usual way using frozen beans and globs of cream of mushroom soup. Mine is a proper version, made with blanched beans in a homemade mushroom sauce made with real mushrooms (no rubbish), topped with friend onions coated in buttered toasted panko. It beats what my Midwest ancestors made by a country mile, but don’t tell my aunts. Someone will make a sweet potato something-or-other rather than proper mashed potatoes.
Saturday afternoon the doorbell rang and I almost didn’t answer it as I had on no trousers and more likely than not it is the JWs (Jehovah Witnesses) who haven’t given up their quest to convert me. I thought to answer the door sans trousers (that means without) and exclaim ‘Won’t you come in my dears I’ve been hoping you would call” but lo! It was a special delivery (signature required). It was Harper’s ashes. They came in a small tasteful box, which we placed on a shelf in the office. It sits near the cedar bent box that someday will hold my ashes. Someone can scatter us both on the shores of Lake Michigan – the sooner the better I say.
While there is work to be done it is probably best to do none of it but stay in bed and keep trying to unsee the virus. I regret not going to a friend’s holiday party today. It was the only party invitation I had for the reason and the hostess, a fellow book lover well over four feet, always gives me a bag of ‘must reads’ whenever I visit. I am rawther cross with Mary Baker Eddy and her not at all efficacious ways of treating illness. Next time I take Dayquil like Someone and not bother reading The Scientific Statement of Being.
Note: The Board of Directors Here at Spo-Reflections were divided on whether or not this entry was one of concern or a mere thoughtful reflection. As they are not keen on either mode of being, they voted I try to make it funny or better yet write about something else. They recently found the D&D Monster Manual I mentioned the other day, and thinking it was The Time of Legends telephone directory suggested I write about the Tarasque, which is presently trying to get in through the back door. No such luck. I am in a pensive mood so the essay remains as I wrote it. The Board and the Tarasque can go screw themselves. Spo
I am feeling a lot of loneliness lately, no doubt brought by the loss of the dog. Of course I know loss is inevitable, and it’s OK not to be OK, and ‘this too shall pass’. Regardless, I am focused what I have lost rather than what I have. It’s a bummer time for me. I wonder how long it will last.
It doesn’t help that I am writing this on a rainy Thursday afternoon at work. I am the only person working in the MESA office today. My office door is open and I hear and see nothing from the six other rooms, which are empty. It’s quiet and not in a nice way. Once upon a time the place was full up with co-workers and the hall had patients coming and going passing by my doorway. That was before there was online counseling and workers became most part-time/working from home; if they come to the office the work on the days I am not here.
Coming home to emptiness is also happening. With Harper gone and Someone working all the time it is often just myself in the evening. I ask myself why did we bother to buy so much house I wonder? It has three bedrooms and that many bathrooms. Apart from the bedroom, the kitchen, and Someone’s office, the rest of the house hasn’t been used in ages. We roped off rooms so Harper wouldn’t wander into them and make messes. I could keep them that way for I don’t miss them.
In the quiet I find myself wanting to go to sleep early, sometimes right after dinner. What is there to do really? There are no longer messes to tidy up and the laundry pile, once high as Fafner’s hoard, is down to just weekends. I don’t feel like making shirts, probably because it is too cold now to wear such and there are no plans for sunny places to wear them.
I wrote that Thursday night; it is Friday morning. It stopped raining and I am in the PHX office today. Other people are supposed to be working today, so I won’t be by myself today, which is nice. This weekend I plan to open up those rooms can give them a good cleaning and try to make things more normal.
It’s become fashionable to never apologize or admit error. ‘Never apologize’ is seen as a virtue or strength, and to say I’m sorry I made a mistake is a sign of weakness.* This is the opposite of how I was raised. Father taught the ability to admit error and take responsibility was a manly virtue; Mother said saying you are sorry was the foundation for polite society. I hope someday this is again so.
It is a common fear among doctors saying you are sorry is dangerous and you should never say the “S” word. They believe if they do it is an admittance of error and the patient will pounce and sue them. My experience is the opposite: saying I am sorry that something bad happened or admitting I bungled is met with relief and satisfaction – especially if the apology is given with an explanation and what I am going to do about it. I think my saying sorry has actually saved me from legal matters.**
Another problem with modern apologies is when they happen at all they are often backhanded slaps, along the line: “I am sorry you took it wrong” viz. the fault is with the offended one for not taking it right. That ain’t good.
A proper apology has a three necessary elements:
1] it has to be sincere.
2] it is about the apologizer not the one who is receiving it.
3] there is a plan to do something about it. The apologizer will try to mend his or her ways and/or try to fix the damage.
Here is my stencil apology I use:
Perhaps as I approach the hurt one he or she tells me to they hate me or tells me to go away. I start with if that is what you wish I will go away, but first I have to say I’m sorry. I then state what I did wrong: I lied to you; I broke your trust; I forgot to do something; I made a mistake. I state I recognize this. Sometimes I add if you (the hurt one) or anyone else did the same to me I would not want to forgive you, so I do not ask for forgiveness, but I will ask, if you are amenable, that we resume our journey together. If something cannot be undone, is there some I can do to help heal the wounds?
Sometimes I add as a gentleman who strives for honor was I did was not honorable, but I am man enough to know it and try for better.
My experience is nearly always the person accepts the apology and we try again. Sometimes the recipient will go with the I hate you/f-ck off, and that’s OK. I did what I needed to do: fess up and try to amend things. I don’t ever remember I time when I was scorned for my attempt. Happily I am not around dark-triad types much who would get off on my so-called groveling.***
Have you had to apologize lately to someone about anything? Would you share how you handled it?
*This terrible approach is instigated or at least enhanced by The Felon. He has never apologized about anything, can this be true? Can anyone think of time when he said he was sorry or made a mistake? I can recall many times when it was he who demanded an apology though.
**The truth about malpractice suits: most of them arise when the patient is pissed off, hurt, and angry because the doctor isn’t communicative or owning up or doing something about it. The number one thing docs can do about avoiding malpractice isn’t covering their butts in more paperwork but by not being jerks.
***The ‘dark triad’ is a mixture of narcissism, Machiavellian thinking, and sociopathy. Narcissism is all about the person/never about others. Machiavellian means I will do anything to get what I want, including hurt you. Sociopathy means not caring about the feelings of others, or the laws of the land viz. ‘whatever it takes”. These types would never apologize as they don’t see themselves ever making an error, let alone caring what others feel. Any dark triad types in your life?
I thank everyone who left comments yesterday. Whenever we encounter someone in sorrow we all want to do or say something/anything to assuage their pain. In the end it doesn’t matter the words; what matters is you are there. Spo
What’s top of my mind: life without the dog. For sixteen years Harper was an integral part of my life; Now I come home to an absence. We enter into a new chapter of not having a dog upon which to focus our energies. What will this be like? Now we don’t have to coordinate or curtail activities to assure one of us is at home as much as possible. I hope we can travel now. I will propose that Someone come to Michigan with me in December; he hasn’t had a proper holiday in so long I don’t remember when last he had one. Not that seeing my family is a ‘holiday’ but it would be nice to get him out of work and town.
Where I’ve been: a 5K walk. Last Sunday I did the course folks from work. I walked with The Boss Lady and her friend. It was the most enjoyable walk I’ve had in ages. Earlier this year when I trained for the 10K, I walked alone. It is more fun to walk with others. If I could I would have a daily walk with Someone or somebody than alone.
Where I’m going: Nowhere. There are no plans between now and the end of the month. I doubt we will do a Thanksgiving dinner, what with Someone working that day and we are both not feeling festive to make a big dinner for two people neither. Like many Thanksgivings, I will be home alone with a pot of tea and a good book.
What I’m watching: The post. I dawned on me the other day I’ve ordered things and they haven’t arrived yet. This may be impatience on my part. Independence merchants are in charge and they seem to be taking their time putting things in the post. One gets spoiled by Mr. Bezos and his minions delivering things in less than two days. Patience grasshopper.
What I’m reading: More Terry Pratchett. After slogging through ‘War and Peace’ I want something fun, easy, and causes laughter – like my men. I found a collection of short stories of his from his youth. Sir Pratchett is probably spinning in his grave at the notion his early works are being published. Like most writers (I include myself) we are not too found of our early works. Oh the pain.
What I’m listening to: Niece inspired tunes. Patience above! Warrior Queen and Princess Goddess are sending me links to ‘cool music’, most of which I don’t understand. Both seem keen on a group of young ladies who are demon slayers, which they do to rousing tunes mostly in E-flat. I am told they/this group is just as popular with youth as Ms. Swift. Who knew?
Does anyone know what I am talking about? Please explain.
What I’m eating: Cans of soup. I have fallen in love with Campbells Chunky soup. I have one at work on Mondays for lunch. True, they are hight sodium, enough to choke a horse,* but they save me the time and effort to go out at noon and forage for food. It is enough for lunch.
Who needs a good slap: Medicare. Thems who have Medicare were recently told ‘no more Telehealth appointments: and they are understandably up in arms. What’s more frustrating is what is allowed/not allowed keeps changing. The Overlords recently sent a complex algorithm how to determine if a patient with Medicare can do Telehealth or must come in. Since the place has a protocol all patients must have an in-office appointment once a year, and The State of Arizona says if they are prescribed controlled substance Rx, they are obliged to come in once a year. So what the hell, tell everyone to get in here. Several have taken the stance they don’t have to/you can’t make me. This week The Boss Lady sent an email with clarity only to send the next day an announcement the return-to-work Congress (or something like them) extended again the “OK to do telehealth’ waiver.**. So it is OK again to do Telehealth – for now.
On my 1-5 scale, I give Medicare 3 slaps.
Who gets a fist-bump: The staff at Vedmed. The ER where we took Harper couldn’t have been better. They must see dying dogs all the time but they weren’t jaded or ho-hum but treated us with compassion. The nurse on charge was quite supportive and the techs and clerks respectful. The room where she was put down was set up for all sorts of exit plans. Indeed the room itself had an exit to the outside if you didn’t want to go back into the lobby/waiting area blubbering and wailing. Well done! If we are to get a new dog we are taking it to Vedmed.
What I’m planning: major tidy up. There is a lot to do now that Harper is gone. We have to do something about the carpets. I vote for hiring a professional team to come and do what they can while Someone is for getting new carpet, at least in the bedroom. It’s a reasonable solution but I daresay this will be another ‘someday’ project like the wretched paint job that still isn’t done after all these years. The floors need a good wash and we can get back into the dining room and living area, which has been off ropes for ages. There’s work to be done.
What’s making me smile: I am Lockmaster. The conference room at the office in MESA got itself locked the other day. Nobody knows who did this or what happened. More important is how to unlock it. No one had a key. Management was called who politely told us it isn’t their responsibility. Calls to the Overlords got the OK to try to pick the lock or break it if necessary. The Tube of Yous (for once) let us down on ‘how to pick locks” videos. This was all explained to me when I came out of my office to investigate the loud banging away down the hall. I said let my try my keys; no harm trying anyway. I joked perhaps I am The Wart pulling Excalibur out of the stone. Lo! To our surprise, the first key I tried worked and the door was quietly unlocked. I got applause, a Brownie point, and I next week I am being crowned King of England.
*I do not know how much salt would choke a horse. That’s what the Muses (or someone like them) told me to write.
**Many folks don’t know the notion was doing on-line doctor appointments was never made officially OK during the pandemic. Rather they waived the rule. After COVID times stopped and people wanted online appointments to continue, rather than make it officially kosher, they kept voting to continue the waiver. During this recent shut down there was no Congress to approve another waiver so there went the OK to do online appointments for Medicare. Or that is my understanding. If anyone knows better, please tell me. And no, I don’t know of anyone actually making it the law either.
Spo-Reflections 