Roger Archives - Page 7 of 10 - Ramblin' with Roger

Chuck Miller’s blogging flashback, involving me

“Roger Green is like E.F. Hutton. When Roger Green speaks… people listen.” It is to laugh.

Chuck Miller, a fellow blogger on the Times Union newspaper site:

“In March 2010, the Times Union hosted a blogging get-together at the College of Saint Rose. I remember being part of this event; heck, I even showed up in a little video clip that promoted the event.”

I had all but forgotten the gig, but now that he mentions it, I negotiated with The Wife for the chance to go.

“And as I looked at this video clip… I realized…

“Man, how we’ve all changed in the past three years since this conference.”

It was the first time I had met some of my fellow TU bloggers. And I’m on the video promo as well, at about the two-minute mark.

A few things come immediately to mind:

1. I hate speaking before a video camera.

2. I don’t look the way I think I look in my mind’s eye. The vitiligo, which I first discovered nine years ago, seemed terribly prominent on my face when I saw the video for the first time. Strange that it doesn’t seem SO bad now.

3. As is true with many people, not crazy about hearing my own voice either, something I notice every time I hear me on our answering machine.

4. I STILL haven’t figured out what I’m writing on my TU blog in any systemic way, whereas I know quite well what I’m writing here, which is to say, whatever strikes my fancy.

5. Chuck HAS lost weight; I haven’t but him, quite definitely.

I DID crack up with his characterization of me: “Roger Green is like E.F. Hutton. When Roger Green speaks… people listen.”

BTW, Chuck, I STILL owe you a dollar over some bet or other.

My mom’s first year as a mother

“I don’t know why you kids fight. You’re so lucky! I never had a brother or sister. If *I* had had a sibling, we would have gotten along.”

My sister Marcia sent me via Facebook a whole slew of photos at the end of March. I’d seen most of them at one point, but it had been years. They’re great to see.

This is a picture of my mom, with her eldest child, who is yours truly. It appears that she is filled with unbridled joy, which is lovely, of course. The thing is that I didn’t think of her in that way. I considered her a bit of a worrier.

Partly, I think this was a function of her working outside the home at a time when that was not the norm. Perhaps it was the thought of leaving her son, and, eventually, her two daughters with her somewhat crazy mother.

It was also, though, that she, as an only child, did not understand the fact that siblings have disagreements. Many times, she dragged out this particular speech: “I don’t know why you kids fight. You’re so lucky! I never had a brother or sister. If I had had a sibling, we would have gotten along.” I think she actually believed this. Of course, because she WAS an only, she had ZERO credibility with this logic. (My father was an only as well, but I never heard him say this.)

Still, I thought she was a pretty good mom, though I’m not convinced SHE thought so. She probably fretted, like many parents do (including me) about whether she had any idea about what she was doing.
***
Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms, including my wife and my mother-in-law.

Like father, like daughter: to the E.R. again

The lesson relearned – no food where peanuts or nuts are processed.

When we last saw our intrepid little family, the father of the household was getting a ride home from his overnight hospital stay Friday afternoon by his lovely wife. Saturday, he was still exhausted; he didn’t sleep well Thursday night, and Friday night’s rest was insufficient. He muddled through Saturday, doing a minimum of vacuuming and dishwashing, and not much else.

Even Sunday morning, there was a sense of fatigue within him. But since almost everyone knew about the hospital incident, he wanted to show up to prove he was still among the living. Fortunately, all the songs the choir sang he had performed before.

At the coffee hour, somehow the Daughter had gotten permission (not from her father) to eat some coffee cake, despite being unclear about its origins. Apparently, it’s one of those items that had that warning that it may be processed in a plant that used peanuts or nuts. She is allergic to peanuts, and peanuts and nuts are often processed in the same place.

Shortly after consuming it, she got very upset. Was it a belated sense of fear? Her father took her into a quiet room and tried to calm her down. She was OK for a bit, but by the time she got home, she had a stomachache, and eventually upchucked. This was actually a good thing; the first time she had an allergic reaction, when she was three, that was how her body responded. So the family thought it was in the clear.

A couple of hours later, the Wife noticed, above the knees and below the neck hives over about 30% of The Daughter’s body. It itched greatly. After a call to the pediatrician, another trek to the E.R.

It’s much less busy Thursday at 8:40 a.m. than Sunday at 5:30 p.m. She got some Benedryl, stronger than the OTC we had given her. Then the family stopped at the McDonalds; the Wife seems to believe going inside is faster, an unproven premise, but staying in the car would have meant avoiding the rudest, vulgar-language customer; “Where’s my f@#$ing food?” , more than once, among other things.

The Daughter was asleep by the time the family got home. she got through dinner then was practically carried to bed; the Wife stayed home with her on Monday.

The lesson relearned – no food where peanuts or nuts are processed. I hadn’t heard the rule had changed…
***
That evening, there was an ambulance in front of our house. It was actually called for our next-door neighbor’s house. The father of one of the college kids had been drinking a couple bottles of beer with the guy when he was having some difficulties – I didn’t get the details. Turns out e had food poisoning; glad it wasn’t worse.

My second novennial visit to the hospital E.R. for chest pain

Evidently, the afternoon nurse was not on the ball, according to the evening nurse, because the former had orders to take blood from me, and it did not happen.

Back in 2004, I was having some chest pains, though not on the left side, where my heart is located. Still, I called my primary care physician’s office, and her office suggested I go to St. Peter’s Hospital and get it checked out. I don’t much remember the details, except that I spent about eight hours there before I went home.

Thursday, April 11, I’m getting the Daughter ready for school when I felt a real tightness on the upper right side of my chest; had it been on the other side, I would have thought it was a heart attack and would have called 911. Still, it was most uncomfortable, and I wasn’t doing anything more strenuous than clearing the breakfast dishes. Using the previous advice, I took the bus to St. Peter’s Hospital; it was a straight shot from my house, a little more than a mile away. I COULD have walked there, actually, especially in the time I waited for the ride, but I just wasn’t feeling up to it.

Got to the ER about 8:40 a.m., got seen right away by a nurse. The ER room very…gray; gray walls on most sides, speckled gray walls on the other. They hooked me up to various contraptions that monitored my heart rate, my blood pressure, my oxygen capacity, and other vitals. I saw in turn, at least two nurses, and two doctors, interrupted by long periods of not much.

For some reason, speaking to the primary ER doctor – I knew she was primary because there was a series of pictures of attending physicians that she gave me, her photo circled – I’d been there just long enough that my brain had temporarily fallen asleep. She asked what medicines I was taking, and I was giving her a list of what I was allergic to. Realizing this, I stopped, but could remember what I had taken, by brand name or dosage; eventually, they got better info from my primary care doctor.

There was an older woman, 81 by her own description, who was some sort of hospital aide, and she asked me if I needed anything. I noted that a phone would be nice.

It occurred to me that I ought to contact my wife. Only one thing; I didn’t know how. She is a teacher of English as a Second Language who works for this multi-county entity called Capital Region BOCES. In any given week, she might be in one of five schools in three school districts, one in each of three counties, and it alternates somewhat from week to week. So I called my friend and colleague Alexis at work and asked her to track down my wife, but for her not to worry. She found my wife’s supervisor, and the supervisor called my wife to pass on the message.

Meanwhile, Alexis came to the ER, gave me a bunch of magazines to read, and stayed until my wife arrived. Alexis told me that my terse message on the call-in number at work, which meant that everyone knew I would be out made one of our co-workers quite nervous. “That was the shortest message he ever left; it must be serious!” I had eaten nothing, so someone got me some dry chicken sandwich; it was better than nothing, barely.

The hospital had decided that I should stay for “observation,” which in medical speak means I was going to be admitted! I was still in the ER only because there were no rooms available at the moment. Finally, around 2:30 p.m., I got wheeled to a room. It was a nice room, as hospital rooms go. I wasn’t exactly relaxed – I had oxygen in my nose for a time, and all sorts of cathodes (is that what they are called?) stuck on my chest, so that movement was limited.

The Wife left for a time but came back with The Daughter. My child may have been more worried than I. I told her that I’d always love her. She asked, “What if you die?” I noted that I’d STILL love her, from heaven. The three of us had dinner. My hospital meal was chicken, which wasn’t bad, and beans, which were rubbery. The family brought their own grub. We played a few hands of UNO together before they left.

I watched the news on TV, and a couple of other things, yet doing nothing is tiring. I tried to go to sleep around 9:15, but I was cold. So I got what the hospital called a blanket, which was barely helpful until they closed the door to my room about 11 p.m. That also muffled the sound of a bunch of monitors beeping from the nurses’ station and/or other people’s rooms.

Evidently, the afternoon nurse was not on the ball, according to the evening nurse, because the former had orders to take blood from me, and it did not happen. So I got blood drawn at 8 p.m. and 4 a.m.; I was awake already for the latter, but still. I was also awake at 4:40 a.m. when they weighed me, something that was supposed to have happened earlier.

Interesting that my temperature (c. 36.5) was given in metric units. Apparently, that’s the world standard, although the US has been SLOW to convert. 36.5 C is about 97.7 F; my temperature tends to run 1F low. I also know that my BP is excellent (115/65 +/- 5 over time), my heart rate is fine 9c 64/bpm), and my oxygen is good (98 to 99%).

In the morning, I’m tired but can’t sleep. Alternatingly watch CBS Morning News, the Weather Channel (tornadoes in the southeast, snow in the Midwest), ESPN, and some other sports news. I discover that every sports analyst said the exact same thing about some San Diego Padres player who got hit by a 3-2 pitch, charged the pitcher’s mound to tussle with the Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher, the end result of which is that the pitcher broke his collarbone. No, the Padre won’t be suspended as long as the Dodger pitcher will be out, as the Dodgers manager wants; it’ll be 5 to 8 games. I watched a little of the first round of the Masters’ golf tournament. At least I avoided the Jodi Arias wall-to-wall live trial coverage; I STILL don’t know who she is, or what she allegedly did.

Shortly after breakfast (pancakes – but they forgot the syrup – fruit cup, and some of the worst oatmeal I’ve ever attempted to eat), someone took my lunch order, which got me to thinking I’d be there for a while. About 11 a.m., though, a physician assistant asked me a bunch of questions; my answers meant I could be discharged. This was followed by a doctor essentially making sure the PA did her job, the technician taking all those cathode stickers off, and the nurse disconnecting everything else attached to me.

Their timing was a bit too bad; I was actually enjoying watching the talk show The View, with Harrison Ford and Chadwick Boseman talking about the new movie about Jackie Robinson, 42. Also was discharged before the lunch, which sounded really good; and in any case, they were going to bring me tea, rather than the coffee I’d been getting and don’t drink.

So, if I did not have a heart condition, what DID I have? Dunno, but this is my working theory: I have started riding my bicycle part of the way to work and back, putting on the CDTA the rest of the way. This involves lifting the bike, which isn’t light. My left elbow has been troubling me for a few weeks, for no known reason, so I may have been overcompensating on my right side when I would lift up the bike; my occasionally sore right shoulder suggests that. So I had some sort of spasm that affected my upper right chest area.

In any case, I’m seeing my primary care doc in a couple of weeks to revisit this issue.

Embarrassing childhood; am I awesome now?

My ears. Use them a lot.

Jaquandor does a quiz-thing. So I do one because I’m lazy. Or lack self-control. Or both.

1: What eye color do you find sexiest?

Brown, for sure. Which is odd, since my wife has blue eyes.

2: White, milk, or dark chocolate mocha?

No idea.

3: If you could get a Sharpie tattoo on your back, what would it be?

A map of Europe. In color.

4: Did you grow up in a small or big town? Did you like it?

Small city. I liked it at the time. It’s been slowly dying away, and it makes me sad.

5: Your favorite adult as a child? (and not your parents, if they were your favorite)

My great aunt Deana, who played Scrabble, and cards with me, and protected me from her overbearing sister, my maternal grandmother.

6: What kind of smoothie sounds really good right now?

Strawberry. Failing that, blueberry, or other berries. I like mango. Hate banana, though, and I like bananas.

7: Most embarrassing moment from your elementary school years?

Hitting Carol Bakic in the head with a slush ball. She was a friend, and there was no malice, just having fun, and I had a lousy aim. (Aiming for the body.)

8: Most embarrassing moment from your middle school years?

I broke my glasses and I had to give a report in front of a class, utilizing the outline on the back blackboard. I simply couldn’t read it, so I took out my binoculars. I didn’t realize how silly that must have looked.

9: Most embarrassing moment from your high school years?

Getting caught with a forged note of my favorite teacher, Miss Foley, so my girlfriend and I could get out of study hall. We didn’t write the note, but nevertheless, I was mortified by her disapproval.

10: Pirates or ninjas? Why?

Pirates. Ninjas wear pajamas outside.

11: Have you ever climbed a tree more than twenty feet off the ground?

No, I was terrible at it.

12: Did you like swinging as a child? Do you still get excited when you see a swing set?

As J wrote: “Oh yeah, I loved swinging. In fact, it’s still fun, if the swing is big enough.”

13: If you could have any pet in the world, illegal or not, what would you get?

A Persian kitten. Fluffy.

14: What’s your most favorite part of your body?

My ears. Use them a lot.

15: What’s your most favorite part of your personality?

My ability to listen well.

16: Madonna or Lady Gaga? Neither? Both? Who cares?

Madonna, though I must say, I haven’t paid much attention to either of them this century.

17: Have you ever watched the Super Bowl all the way through?

Most years, barring interruptions by someone. The funny thing about Janet Jackson’s Nipplegate; missed that, and I was watching the game on a 30-foot screen.

18: Have you ever watched any major sporting event drunk?

Not that I can recall. Well, I had a few during Game 6 of the 1986 World Series when the Mets were losing to the Red Sox. Fortunately, that had a good outcome.

19: What’s the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten in your life?

It was some pastry at a party, which made my jaw drop.

20: Margarine or butter? Which did you grow up with?

Now, Olivio, an olive oil-based spread. I grew up on margarine.

21: Whole, skim, 1%, or 2% milk? (Did you know they make 1 1/2% milk?)

Skim is what we have; I prefer 1%, but it’s all about the calories.

22: Which continents have you been on?

North America. That’s it, though Barbados is MUCH closer to South America.

23: Do you get motion sickness? Any horror stories?

Last summer, I rode a roller coaster for the first time in a long while; HATED it. Awful headache for hours afterward. Used to LOVE them as a kid, too.

24: Backpacks or satchels?

Backpack, always. Easier to ride a bike, and I know where my bus pass is all the time.

25: Would you wear a rainbow jacket? A neon yellow sweater? Checkered pants?

Yes, yes, and I actually did in college, hand-me-downs from my grandfather; photos exist, but I’m not telling where.

26: What was your favorite cartoon growing up?

Rocky and Bullwinkle.

27: If you had to have a cow or a pig, which would you take? Why?

I’d milk the cow. I’ve done it, though not in a very long time.

28: If you had to look at one city skyline for the rest of your life, which would it be?

New York City, though I liked Chicago’s the one time I was there.

29: Longest plane ride you’ve ever been on?

New York City to Barbados. It was longer than Barbados to NYC, because we got bumped up to first class. Five hours in coach is WAY longer than five hours in first class.

30: The latest you’ve ever slept?

3 p.m. – I was REALLY sick.

31: Would you buy a sweater covered in kitten pictures? Would you wear it if someone gave it to you for free?

Wouldn’t buy it. Might wear it on the weekend.

32: Do you pick at scabs?

Generally not, but I put Band-Aids on them to make sure.

33: Favorite kind of bean? Kidney? Black? Pinto?

Black is beautiful.

34: How far can you throw a baseball?

From mid right field, where I was always stationed, to the infield dirt.

35: If you had to move to another country, where would you move?

I told my wife a couple years ago that I’d move to Toronto, after I’d been there a day. Good mass transit, educated populace, lots to do.

36: Have you ever eaten Ethiopian food? Vietnamese? Korean? Nepalese? How was it?

Maybe, yes (Albany restaurants), yes (my wife had students who invited us over), no.

37: Small, liberal arts school or public university? Why?

I went to a small liberal arts public college, and it was fine. Not sure I’d want to go to a place with 50,000 students.

38: A relationship with love or one with sex?

I can’t have both? Well, OK, love.

39: Do you eat enough vegetables?

“No, but I’m getting better at it.”

40: Do you like horror movies? How about thrillers?

Horror, no; there’s enough gore in real life. Thrillers depend on the director, writer, and actors; some are so inane.

41: Would you scratch a crotch itch in public?

No.

42: Do you swear in front of your parents?

Would never do that.

43: Coolest thing you’ve ever been for Halloween?

It was a white skull, a wizard’s hat, and my college graduation gown. Trust me, WAY cool.

44: If you could change your natural hair color, would you? To what?

It’s practically all white. Don’t care.

45: Do you want to get married? Have kids?

I like being married. I’m better married. I love my kid, but at my age couldn’t keep up with another.

46: Do you use a reusable water bottle? If not, you should.

No. Maybe it’s psychological, but plastic water bottles make the water taste plasticy.

47: City or nature person?

City. I’ve done nature stuff, but it’s not my strength.

48: Have you ever used something other than “makeup” as makeup? (Like paint? Markers?)

Marker mustache as a kid.

49: Can you walk well in high heels? Even if you’re a guy?

Almost no one walks WELL in high heels. I wasn’t bad the last time I tried, which was at least 30 years ago, but I feared turning my ankle.

50: Post 5 awesome things about yourself. BRAG AWAY!

I think I am a very compassionate being.

I got stuck, so I asked a co-worker and friend, who said:
I have an incredible singing voice; (I think it’s adequate).
My laugh is infectious.
I have an amazing wealth of info in my mind. (I always fret over what I can’t remember anymore, but I suppose this is still true.)
I have the ability to have a conversation with anyone. (Well, not ANYONE, but I can usually hold my own in most discussions.)