Go Swine Flu!

So we're batting 2 for 2! Go Swine Flu! It's easier to say that I have it and just let people freak out about the name than to keep explaining there's a difference. Here's the thing people: treatment for the swine flu and the regular flu is no different. So, having the name tagged to me doesn't make me feel bad. And, more people die from the regular flu every year than from the swine flu in all it's existence. So get the EFF over it.

I took my son to the ER last night around 11pm with a 103.2 fever. Thanks folks for your prayers. It did seem to come down considerably by the time we had come home (101.7) without the assistance of medication, but spiked within the hour up to 104.8.

Like his mama, he doesn't ever complain. And this is scary with such a high fever. I didn't have a high fever that I knew of so automatically, I felt something was different. Off we went. Once inside, he was bright and fairly vibrant contrasting his bump on a log demeanor at home, and fully aware of other patients. I knew his ears would be plugged when the ER doctor checked, and told him so. He was surprised that he wasn't bothered by it. They did a different nose swab thing for him. The RN, Tyler, asked him not to move while this was happening, and he was a statue while counting slowly to 10 through tear rimmed eyes. Suck up and deliver, kinda like someone else yah? We should hear his results this evening but like previously stated, treatment is no different for whatever kind of flu it is. And since I've already tested positive for Influenza A, they prescribed Tamiflu, the same as me assuming it's the same flu.

So what's a visit to the ER without people watching?! Wheeled in by EMTs a few minutes after us, was a teenage boy strapped tightly to the gurney. The chubbier, older EMT tells the ER nurse they need to get security before they unstrap him. Mom is following behind, stressed out and shamed. I prayed quickly for that mom, without even knowing her turmoil. Apparently, her son is diagnosed bipolar, and had tried to run from the EMTs although it wasn't clear exactly why he needed to be there. He didn't seem to be hurt in any way. While waiting, Jordan - that's his name - kept getting up and trying to leave. And mom and securitas man kept trying to get him back on the gurney. Obviously this kid is crying out for attention and medication to dull whatever hell he thinks he's in. He began swearing and demanding pills. They had given him something upon arrival and he kept yelling that it wasn't working. Wow. Maybe mom is the one who really needs to be medicated? Pray for them.

In the curtain next to us, was a baby about a year old with hives her mama couldn't find the source of. We over hear the doctor say he'll give her some Benadryl, and a shot of steroid. My boy looks at me and says "It's about to get loud in here." Cracking jokes even! Sure enough, the baby starts to cry even before the shot, and the volume increases 5 fold. And in less than a minute, her mama is holding her over the sink whilst she spews whatever is possibly giving her hives. Yuuuck.

There were 2 other families with babies there, but we couldn't hear what was going on with them. As we waited for his prescription in the waiting room, another patient was wheeled in by a different pair of EMTs. A very "well endowed" young woman, unusually endowed. Through text, Daddy asked what was wrong with her and I said there was nothing obvious. To this he replied, "she probably has back problems." My son surely gets his humor from that side of his gene pool.

Anyway, we were home in just over an hour which is a record if you've ever been in the ER. Again I thank you for your prayers and also in advance for any more you'd like to send our way. My illness is managed enough that I can take care of my trooper. If Daddy gets it, he's on his own. And little sister, I think she'll be fine. She had a fever a week and a half ago and yakked all over the bathroom floor and was a champ soon after! Mom is also feeling fine so she's likely not exposed, and for as much time as I spend with Thmartath - she has her own set of Forced Vacation Days reasons, not flu related.

Take care of yourselves folks. This flu is fierce.

Swine Floozy

Fun tidbits about the swine flu!

I was tested this morning, with a swab at the back of my throat, and the same swab then swept up in my nose as far as it could reach. *gags in all ways possible* Ten minutes later, the little paper thing says I'm positive for Influenza A. What's the difference you ask, between A, B, & Swine? Not much. They're just the mutations of the virus.

Swine flu is a strain of Influenza A. Does that mean I have it? Possibly, but not likely. This translates to = I can't go back to work until the 25th. And can I know if I do have it? Sure, if I'd like to be swabbed again to send a different sample to the Hawaii State Department of Health. Nah, I'll pass. Results for that take 3-5 days anyway, and by then I'll probably be better.

Treatments? Not different from any other flu. Stay home to not spread it, cover your mouth, wash your hands frequently and follow with an alcohol based hand sanitizer, get lots of fluids, and lots of rest = mhmm, like that's possible. I slept horribly last night. I wished for dreamless, satisfying sleep. I got quite the opposite waking every 1/2 hour.

Tamiflu - the prescription for suppressing the mutation of the virus should be commenced within 48 hours of the onset of symtoms and could possibly help me feel better a whole day sooner than without. I hate medicine. But hey, I'll give it a shot. A $20 co-pay better have me feeling better by the time these meds are gone.

So yeah, don't call me a swine floozy. Hahaha, that's kinda funny.

It's the name that's got people all nuts, [swine flu]. Cuz no one really over reacts when you say you've got the flu. But man, I'm suffering. This is THE WORST I've felt in years.

I wish I could find the pink mask with the pig snout on it :)

One time

I was driving to my parents' house and happened to notice the sign out front of the First Baptist Church on the corner of California Avenue and Rose Street. It said:

"When in deep water, trust the one who walked on it."

Until yesterday, I never thought that I had trust issues. Not in relationships or with friends, but in trusting that God would never bring me to something He'd never bring me through. I am in constant need of being in control, not necessarily of people or situations, but of being in control of myself. I remember writing a paper in Expos in high school where I compared myself to a bottle of soda. Agitate it and it explodes upon opening. Don't shake it at all, or stop shaking it and wait, and it will be fine.

I usually think that I have a good handle on the things in my life, and generally believe that they always turn out the best way they possibly can even if it's not what I want in the moment. It's been a struggle but now, I am truly learning the hard way that things turn out on God's time, and not mine.

Never have I had to choose one necessity over another. THAT is a hard place to be in. I do not wish that on anyone, not even people I don't care for. It really is when you have no choice but to be strong that you find out how strong you really are.

I almost always hold personal things in, which is kind of hypocritical in a way I guess, because people find it easy to vent to me when they have problems. I've heard I give pretty good advice. Now if I only I could give myself some that would be practical and optimistic and RIGHT?

I began writing this blog last night through tear rimmed eyes because writing helps me see things from a different perspective. And perhaps yesterday's events, and the day's before too, should have been a clue that a blog was ensuing. I ended up saving the draft and going to take a shower, where for the first time in a long time, I saw that I needed to be broken. My prideful need to be in control of myself was what was keeping me from seeing what needed to be seen. So there, in the shower, the only place I can find a very brief moment alone in this house, I asked God to break me. And He did.

He showed me that I am not in control, that I don't NEED to always be in control. And that I hold on so tightly to the things I think I can control even though those are the very things I should lay at His feet. So while it's still not in my personality to just let go and fall and trust that I will be caught, I'm humbled ever so slightly, but just enough. And I am thankful ... to be sitting here outside in the morning sun trusting and thanking God for His continued blessings on me, who doesn't deserve them.

The best thing about Underclass and going to work at 5am is the drive to the job where the sun greets me. It's then, in the simplicity of the trusted fact that the sun will rise everyday, that I'm reminded to pray and give thanks for how wonderfully awesome this life I've been given is.

Bass Ackward

I've been feeling pretty frustrated with my piano progress lately. I know I'm having difficulty with coordination and playing both hands at the same time. It occurred to me that everything I've learned to play so far, while it IS with both hands, one hand pauses at least briefly while the other plays. I haven't tackled anything super fancy yet that would warrant both hands playing at exactly the same time.

Stuck in a rut, I went for my weekly lesson today (which was half an hour longer than usual since she was sick last week) and she started me playing some new things. Sharps and Flats ... Key of G ... stuff I haven't seen before. I admit, I kind of cheat most of the time and play ahead in the book on Tuesday nights to get a feel of whatever is next on the syllabus.

Anyway, she full-on busted out laughing at me today! And I'm like, WTH? When she laughs, she tries to talk and then it's even funnier because her Filipino accent is so thick! She finally gets a grip and is able to explain to me what she finds so hilariously funny: evidently I had played the opposite. Meaning, I was playing the notes meant for the treble clef with my LEFT hand, and vice versa. She said it was interesting to her that my brain worked that way. I've always felt I should have been left handed.

*bing* LIGHT BULB MOMENT.

In all my 7 years at Champs, I dealt with what I then called "Numeric Dyslexia." I didn't even know if that was a real thing because it was never a problem when I was in school, but I had ... something. I taught myself 10-Key and while I was punching numbers all day long, I saw them jumbled up in my head - I even thought them out of order, but somehow I would enter them correctly into the register according to what I was seeing. Imagine all the trouble I would have caused if I was putting them in wrong?! So long, Head Cashier. The only time I really noticed it since I left Champs was with phone numbers. If you were to give me your number, I'd probably say it back to you wrong, but I'd write it down or put it in my phone correctly. Apparently, this "dyslexia" if you will, is still with me and it's applicable to numbers, as well as reading music ... but not in anything else.

Weird right? So maybe that's why I'm having such a hard time now?

Cubstar, Clarissa with 2 less letters :), who's been playing piano about half her lifetime, suggested that I try playing a piece very slowly not worrying about the tempo until I get used to it. She said it would be years before my eyes, hands, and mind work together to put a piece together easily. Years?! *clasps hands together with a big smile and intake of breath* Can't WAIT! It really does seem to help though, thanks Cubby!

Love Theme from The Godfather, I will nail you.

We're adults.

"When did this happen? And how do we make it stop?"
~ Meredith Grey

I went to The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf in Pearl City today and ordered my usual Pure Chocolate Hot despite the fact that it was 93 degrees there. It occurred to me as I waited that I was referred to as Ma'am rather than Miss by the college aged BOY who took my order. When did I become a MA'AM? And why am I so, so very bothered by this?

Perhaps this happened because working in the Studio requires that I wear dress slacks and dress shoes? Perhaps this happened because the Cole Haan purse my mom got for me to hold my piano books in was strapped to me rather than the Jansport backpack I usually have for work? Perhaps this happened because I wore my hair back in a chignon rather than down and flat-ironed to death?

Perhaps ... I am finally old and my age is evident in my face these days? Oh. The. Sadness.

I'm only as old as I feel right? Well, I feel OH EL DI.

Wah. Rant done. .

Surprising news

from the doctor today. Last year he said I had to lose 50 lbs (read: Last March, 2 blogs down). I neglected to mention in that blog that I was borderline diabetic, according to him. My dad has been diabetic for about 20 years (controlled by oral medication) so I'm at a higher risk than most. Let's be simple about this, I am overweight. I know it, I accept that it's something that could use a change.

These are some numbers I never knew, maybe you didn't either:

OPTIMAL LEVELS
Total Cholesterol: <200
LDL (bad cholesterol): <100
Glucose (fasting): 60 - 100

BORDERLINE LEVELS
Total Cholesterol: 240
LDL (bad cholesterol): 160
Glucose (fasting): 140 - 199

These were my numbers last year:

03.21.08
Total Cholesterol: 192
LDL (bad cholesterol): 116
Glucose (fasting, but had sugar free gum): 127

These are my numbers from this morning:

05.02.09
Total Cholesterol: 155
LDL (bad cholesterol): 96
Glucose (fasting): 101

So I was "normal" all along?! Not optimal, but below borderline - in any case, lower numbers all together are a good thing. Anyway, he was surprised with my numbers today. I saw it in the way his thick eyebrows scrunched together and pulled up at the same time, if that's even possible. He expected to have to scold me. He turned to me and said "I don't know what you did." Not followed by any sort of "good job." Haha, this is why he's not a dad. I think it's kind of funny.

LDL cholesterol numbers, in case you're not aware, can be brought down simply by exercise. Lower LDL numbers means lower overall cholesterol. Get moving. Take the stairs. Walk to get your lunch if you can. The quicker you walk, the more time you have to eat. If I'm going to two different places in the same complex, I'll park halfway between both places, that way I'm forced to walk either way. I don't like to exercise. I refuse to be a gym rat, but I'm willing to do things that are remotely possible.

My piano instructor laughs at me when I say that I feel hot while I'm in my lesson. I guess when I play, my heart rate increases? This happens at home too. She says, *imagine this in your best Filipino accent* "thass guud yu ar hot, et mayks de kolesteral com awt!"

Whatever works, I suppose.

PS - I'm down 8 lbs from last year. Small change, but still change :)

No one I know

that was forced to go to piano lessons as a child, liked it. I hated piano lessons when I was a kid too. I was 8 or 9 and I was sassy to my teacher. I hated her hair, the way she smiled, and the way she didn't change out of her duster to have company over. I hated the smell of her house, that her walkway was riddled with berries that smooshed under your feet, that no one ever bothered to sweep them away, and that the sun never reached far enough under that tree to dry those berries or the sidewalk up. We didn't go there very long, my brother & I, and then she passed away unexpectedly and I never saw her again. I internalized it, thinking I was part to blame for not being a good student. 20+ years later, I remember her house like it was yesterday: particularly, the sun shining through the window those few Saturday mornings onto her ugly red carpet and the old brown upright who's keys were yellowed by time, but I don't remember her name.

I began piano lessons four weeks ago. The plan was to start when I turned 30 but anyway ... fast forward: I enrolled and had my first lesson on April 1st. After lots of practice, and undoubtedly boring my husband and children to tears with overdone repetition, I currently play like this:

Love Makes The World Go Round, Bob Merrill, 1961!
I've still got a long way to go :)
I find a relaxing joy in learning to play the piano that somehow I feel I've been in search of for years. It is a 100% selfish passtime, a distraction, a diversion; all the things I don't choose to have for myself as everyone else's needs come before my own. I lose track of time while I practice, and when I stop sometimes 3 hours later, my arms hurt in the absolute best way possible. It is to say the least, a blessing on my soul.

I bought a digital piano (different from a keyboard) with a full set of hammer action keys and pedals, and while I know the acoustics will NEVER be as glorious as a real piano, the greatest benefit is the option to put on headphones and practice at 8pm or 2am and not inconvenience anyone. I've sacrificed the sound for an ever present opportunity.

My instructor is a crazy old Filipino lady - aren't they all?! - but I like her, she makes me laugh. She ripped me through 23 pages in my book the very first lesson and I thought she was going too fast. It was overwhelming, but I quickly realized that her style of teaching is exactly my style of learning. I expected to learn the same way I did as a child - one hand at a time with repetitive drilling for each finger - no deals. It's all fingers at the same time and both hands! What?! Theory is tough, but I know the ability to read music will be the ultimate reward - all things will be possible then and I look forward to it. So the next time I post a video it will hopefully be something brilliant. But don't hold your breath, it'll be a while!