Beneath the Wraps

I can remember staying home from school one day when both my mom and I were sick.   She made us a really great lunch consisting of halibut, baked potato and corn.   Neither one of us was able to taste anything on our plate.   The only real difference about the food itself was the texture on the tongue.   Otherwise the taste was pretty much the same. I had forgotten about that incident until yesterday when I added salt to the chicken noodle soup and later on the spaghetti (never in my entire lifetime have I added salt to spaghetti before) because I couldn’t taste them.   I couldn’t taste the pancakes or egg I had this morning.   I couldn’t taste my orange juice or medicine.   Great for the medicine.   That stuff is nasty – and I wonder if that is what dulled my taste buds in the first place or if it is this sinus infection. I still don’t feel   as unhealthy as I did in May when I wanted to die.   Still, I don’t feel great. ...

We have not ridden the bus this week as Roland has taken a use-it-or-lose-it vacation.   He has been driving Jenna to school each morning. He had wanted to go see a movie on Monday.   We went to the 12:00 showing and sat through the previews.   The projector (or whatever device they use now) was not working correctly.   We had a choice to wait for the 1:00 or return at a later time.   We learned that it was a three-hour movie.   Three hour movie!   I didn’t want to sit through a three-hour movie!   We couldn’t wait for the 1:00 showing because Jenna gets out of school at 3:20.   But Roland still wanted to see it.   So we returned the next day.   He kept telling me that the movie was only 2 hours and 49 minutes.   That’s more than three hours when sitting through 20 minutes worth of ads and previews. The movie is LOOOOONNNG – I think there is much that could have been edited.   I also thought ...

I have never had a branch or knife gouge through my eye, but I would imagine the pain is very similar to what I have felt each year in February since moving to this cracker-box house in West Valley.   Apparently I had posted a few posts to my blog the first year I had it.   And I know I was driving.   This year I am in such awe that I was able to do it.   Each year the pain has been worse than the last, and each year I have believed that death would be more preferable to the pain.   Because hey, once my spirit and body separate, I wouldn’t be able to experience the physical pain. That first year I felt like a drug guinea pig.   Although the first drug issued was in December, but I had not posted the traumatic effects until February when the sinus pressure built up again.   I don’t know why I am so unfortunate to have this experience EVERY YEAR.   Enough is enough already (and I have had more than enough – thank you very much) ...

Ever watch “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”? Toula’s large extended family reminds me so much of Roland’s side of the family - with a few minor differences.  They’re Hispanic, not Greek.  They are not devout to any particular religion. And instead of a fascintion with Windex, Roland’s mother swears by Vicks Vapor Rub.   Roland well remembers the taste of Vicks.  His mother would smother the inside of each of her children’s mouth.  There is a warning on today’s label NOT to do that.  I don’t know if it was there in Roland’s youth.   I do admit that I have also taken it internally – which I do not recommend.  But it really is the best throat medicine I’ve ever had.  I felt a tinge of excitement the first time I saw Vicks Vapor Syrup.  It is rare to see more than two bottles on the shelf – if at all.  It seems like there are only certain stores that carry it.   The taste is truly NAST...

          I could have never become a doctor.  I especially couldn’t have been a surgeon.  For one thing I’m really not smart enough.  Even moreso, I am squeamish.  Major squeamish.  Finding myself nauseated by special effects shown in medical shows and even commercials.  I am a whimp. There really is no denying it.  I can’t pretend that I’m not.  Anybody who knows me knows that I can act my way out of a lot of situations, but not when it comes to my extremely weak guts.  I don’t have nerves of steel.  They’re more like silly putty.           So except for the given profession, I just seem to relate a lot to the Emily Owens character on CW’s Emily Owen, MD .           She has compassion for her patients – perhaps too much compassion.  She feels things and allows emotions to get in the way.  Sometimes w...

          When I was little, I used to spin around until I got dizzy and then spin some more.   Especially when I had pleats on.   My skirt or dress would twirl with me.   I thought that was major cool.           I don’t know how old I was when I lost my balance or perhaps I had just spun into the end table.   Either way, I was bleeding from a gash just above my right eye.   I had to have stitches.   As a result I have a small indentation just above my right eye.   Sort of like a dimple.   Small though.   Not actually noticed by many.           I have had some people notice that my right eye does look smaller than my left.   Not a noticeable difference to most people – but those who study my face harder have wondered about it.           In Decemb...