Thurs. Jan. 12, 2012
Crud. And I usually do so well in exams.
It seems not only do I have a torn rotator cuff, but part of the shoulder blade (acromium) pinching it against--the clavicle, I think. It hurts whatever it is. Plus the bursa is inflamed.
So what that means is surgery. Oh boy. The last time I had surgery was about 35 years ago, and while it slowed me down a little bit, it didn’t incapacitate me. Back then, they also kept me mostly unconscious for three days, so I missed a lot of the pain.
Let me back up a minute. When the orthopedic surgeon walked in to the room on Monday, and started talking, I asked him to show me on the MRI films. I could be wrong, but I think it slightly irritated him—like rarely does anyone want to see their films. Partly, as has been suggested to me, most surgeons are not McDreamy’s and have minimal patient skills, aka a bedside manner.
Anyway, we walked down the short hall so he could shove films on the viewing board, pointing, talking a mile-a-minute in doctor talk. I stopped him and asked him to speak English. He said he couldn’t describe it except in Doctor. “Try.”
By the way—some of this is going to be interesting only to me, but don’t skip—you might miss the good parts!
I pointed at this and that, asked some questions, made sure I understood mostly what he was talking about—except he kept saying—I thought—“a cromium” when he was talking about the end of the clavicle. (It’s actually the acromium; I found that out on google.) Not knowing that, I asked if it was the curved bone that looked like it was floating in air in the fluoroscope. Yes.
OK, so we walk back to the room, I picked up my little recorder that I’d set on the exam table, and asked to start over from the beginning. (I don’t know if it’s significant or not, but I “accidentally” got a copy of his notes from the check-out gal before I left, and someone (doc or ?) noted that the “patient recorded conversation.” hmmm….
First, I did not really know what a rotator cuff was. You hear that all the time, and I had pictured like the cuff of a sleeve, and a little ruffle-y sleeve around the shoulder joint—which is really shallow, which is why it’s so easy to dislocate a shoulder. Well, the cuff is actually four tendons that attach to…ummm, which ever bone(s) they attach to. They are also why the shoulder joint has more mobility than any other joint in the body.
Well, one of my tendons is partially torn; I think it’s the one under the acromium and above whatever the other bone is. It also appears to be rather thin. Doc said it should be between 4mm and 8 mm thick. He’s betting mine is less than four…so, instead of just repairing the tear, he will probably cut the tendon where it’s thin, and pull until a thicker portion of the tendon is in place, then sew it together. Ow.
There are, I think, something like 7 bursa in and around the shoulder joint. He apparently is going to take out one that’s inflamed, although why I can’t take something to un-inflame it and keep the bursa, I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask then, but I will. The bursa is cushion. I want cushion.
Also, because the shoulder end of the acromium is impinging on things it shouldn’t (did it shift when I dislodged my clavicle?), he is going to shave off the end of the bone. OW! And all this supposedly done arthroscopically…and of course, as an out-patient. (I need to check out bone images again; I’m probably getting things confused. This is one of my transcriptions of what doc said: Take off the end of clavicle so it doesn’t rub against the acromium.)
At the end of the surgery doc will do an inter-scalene block which will leave my arm dead for around 12? hours. Sling/swath around arm/shoulder/body to keep my shoulder immobile for a week. It’s my right shoulder. I’m right-handed. Talk about inconvenient. Not to mention OW OW OW after the block wears off.
Stitches out a week later; more sling and mostly immobile for another week, and sling for another two weeks after that. Not sure when the physical therapy starts.
Now, remember way back when I said the bursa is inflamed? Well, because the internal med doc prescribed two dose packs of Medrol in November because he thought the pain down my arm was just inflammation, although if there’s enough trauma to dislodge a clavicle, a doctor really should figure that maybe there’s other damage connected to it. The only reason the Medrol helped for a short time is because there was inflammation—but he never even considered anything else.
Because corticosteroids can inhibit healing, Ortho doc suggested I wait till around the end of Feb. before I have the surgery. Meanwhile I have to get a pre-op exam to make sure I’m healthy enough to have surgery.
Well, it turns out the pre-op has a lot of what I’m due for in the well-woman exam in April. Then I got to thinking I probably wouldn’t be able to have my mammo then because I wouldn’t be able to get my shoulder into the right position…and in fact, the way it’s feeling right now, I still may not be able to have it positioned without screaming. Be that as it may, I called our insurance to find out if I could have my well-woman a little early.
Turns out the insurance pays for it once a calendar year. It doesn’t have to be a year in-between—like April to April, like I thought-- just one in 2011, one in 2012, etc. Yay!
So I have all of that set up first day available with my primary, which isn’t until the end of this month. After which, whatever results are the pre-op results will get sent to the surgeon, which means I can then schedule the surgery.
I am not looking forward to it; at the same time, I want to get it over with. It’s the inconvenience and incapacitation of it all that really bugs me. Still, I’m already practicing doing things with my left hand. And even with the right arm strapped down, I’m seeing myself walking Baxter; I’m seeing myself using the elliptical; I’m seeing my self at the computer. I don’t see myself as “helpless”—just ticked off!
Aside from doing the minor pre-surgery PT, I’m being a little more cautious about stressing my shoulder—partly because I’d hate for the cuff to completely tear, and partly because it aches all the time now.
Heh, I asked the doc what I should Not be doing right now. Bench presses. (I was doing those a couple of weeks ago, before we returned the new weight bench.) And overhead exercises…you mean like what I was doing that very morning with the elastic tubes? Crud. I don’t want to turn into a blob of flab!
The doc had pushed down on the shoulder, asking if I could resist the pressure—and I couldn’t keep my shoulder in place. This kind of thing can cause weakness there, and tonight I noticed my right shoulder slumps. It won’t stay at the same level as my left shoulder without me consciously holding it in place. That’s one of the “signs” I read about.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Friday, January 06, 2012
It takes talent to get lost in the parking lot --
Jan 6, 2012
I forgot to mention yesterday that I got lost in the parking lot of Hillcrest Plaza.
Hey, come on. I had no problem finding that “street” at all. But when I first called the imaging place and asked for directions, no one told me there were about 7,000 buildings in that “plaza.” Not really a street so much as a compound of assorted big buildings that were only vaguely identified.
No one said, “Turn left into Hillcrest Plaza, take the first left in the split-road entry, then turn right, and we’re in the big brown building across from the big glass building.”
So I wound up driving clear to the back of the compound, still not seeing the building number. Thank goodness for cell phones sometimes. I called.
"Hello, I’m lost in your parking lot. Where are you? Oh yeah, and while you’re at it, I see you actually have three suite numbers and no one told me which suite to report to."
She asked what I why I was there, and when I told her, she told me the right suite number. No problem finding where I needed to go after she directed me—and there was even a little sign with the name of the imaging office near the front door. But when you’re doing the driving and trying to watch traffic And watching for cars backing out of parking places… geez….
I forgot to mention yesterday that I got lost in the parking lot of Hillcrest Plaza.
Hey, come on. I had no problem finding that “street” at all. But when I first called the imaging place and asked for directions, no one told me there were about 7,000 buildings in that “plaza.” Not really a street so much as a compound of assorted big buildings that were only vaguely identified.
No one said, “Turn left into Hillcrest Plaza, take the first left in the split-road entry, then turn right, and we’re in the big brown building across from the big glass building.”
So I wound up driving clear to the back of the compound, still not seeing the building number. Thank goodness for cell phones sometimes. I called.
"Hello, I’m lost in your parking lot. Where are you? Oh yeah, and while you’re at it, I see you actually have three suite numbers and no one told me which suite to report to."
She asked what I why I was there, and when I told her, she told me the right suite number. No problem finding where I needed to go after she directed me—and there was even a little sign with the name of the imaging office near the front door. But when you’re doing the driving and trying to watch traffic And watching for cars backing out of parking places… geez….
Labels:
buildings,
cell phone,
driving,
fluoroscope,
imaging,
lost,
MRI,
parking lot,
plaza
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Ah, me, it’s my own stupid fault –
Jan. 5, 2012, Thursday
It looks like I’m probably going to have arthroscopic surgery on my right shoulder.
Let me take you back to June, 2011, for the stupid part. I was walking Baxter and Kasey. Kasey is Nan’s not-so-new-now dog, and we (John & I) were dog sitting. Normally I do not like or use a retractable leash, but for some reason, that stupid day I was.
It’s not clear to me now why Kasey lunged, but he jerked my right arm and shoulder around. Big deal. Not the first time I’ve been jerked around. Later that day I was trying to fix the table next to John’s chair. The legs have grooves and the two shelves slide into the grooves…and occasionally work their way out of them, which means the table will fall down. Of course I was trying to fix it without taking anything off the table; John didn’t understand what I was trying to do, the recumbent bike with its ton-and-a-half front wheel was in the way…and by then I was mad. I think I tried to drag the bike to one side with my right arm, which had already been strained by the dog and trying to manipulate the table without help…
So while I didn’t really notice anything in the heat of my immaturity, later on I thought…OW!
Gee, my right collar bone seemed to be bulging, it was red, and really sore. Of course, I ignored it, except for some cold compresses and/or hot, and/or ibuprofen. I don’t remember now how long I waited before I finally went to a doctor of internal medicine—because I kept thinking it would go away, but finally I wondered if maybe I had fractured my clavicle.
Doc took an x-ray; no, it wasn’t broken. Tissue/tendons are probably just inflamed; keep doing what I was doing; come back if it didn’t get better.
So….5 months later, the clavicle itself wasn’t sore or red, but it had never flattened out again…and by then I was having pain in my right shoulder and down my arm if I moved it “wrong,” and mobility was becoming limited.
Went back to the doc. Nah, it’s not broken, but I might have inflammation in the shoulder joint. I don’t think he thought there was a connection between clavicle and shoulder, but I KNEW there was. Still…he prescribed Medrol. Pain lessened, even though mobility didn’t improve. Took a second round since pain wasn’t quite all gone. Yeah, it helped…for a short time.
Takes me awhile but I finally thought, OK, something is going on. Maybe I should go to an actual bone doctor and see what a specialist has to say.
Saw the orthopedic surgeon a couple of days after Christmas. He had some long name for the clavicle, which is not broken, but it IS dislocated. He said he could push it back into place, but it would just pop out again. It wouldn’t hurt anything being like it was.
OK, fine, said I, but what about the pain in my shoulder. I’m sure they’re connected.
Don’t ya love doctors. He got up and pressed my shoulder back and –something else I don’t remember, because at the point I yelled, OW!
Oh, he says, you may have a tear in there…he didn’t say rotator cuff, and I don’t remember now what. Here I’m always telling people to take a little voice recorder with them to record what the doctor says, and I had mine in my purse…and didn’t use it.
Be that as it may, he then wanted me to have an MRI with contrast. Which I had done today. And you just try to get the same story from different people. Doc said they’ll give you the films/CD before you leave; make another appt with me then and bring them. Imaging place said they’d send them to the doc. Well, I won’t go into all that—suffice it to say they gave me the films and CD before I left today.
Imaging place also kept saying “arthrogram” instead of MRI. Turns out injecting the contrast is the arthrogram—although when that word first came up and I googled it, the procedure described wasn’t really accurate—at least not compared to what I had. And then even though my appt was scheduled for 1 pm today, somewhere in there the doc who did the procedure had been called out to an emergency, so it was after 2:30 before they called me back.
However, since I had befriended Macy at the front counter, she took me aside, explained and apologized about the extended wait, gave me a gift card for Jack-in-the-Box, suggested I go eat, be back by around 2:30. So I did. Only when I saw the Jack card, I thought "McDonald's" and went there, which just proves that sometimes sound gets lost in the translation between ears and brain. I still brought back cookies for the group.
A short while after I got back to the waiting room, here came one fellow, took me to the undressing room, where they also give you a little locker & the key to it, where you leave your clothes & purse—if you happen to be a woman. Long cloth gown and paper shorts are the fashion of the moment.
Nurse/assistant/tech came and got me. Doc came in, explained what he was going to do.
I was lying there with my shoulder exposed, he slathered it with alcohol, then covered it with plastic! Meanwhile there’s this camera? thing hovering over me, and I glance to my left and see a monitor screen –and there’s my shoulder …just the lovely bones. I guess they call that camera/x-ray a fluoroscope. Cool! I watched in real time as the doc inserted a longggg needle with numbing agent into or near the shoulder joint. It was uncomfortable, but really not bad. Then he came back with another longggg needle—and I saw the “dye” squirt into the area. Cool!
I had been told it would take about 30 minutes for the dye to spread, but the nurse had me move my arm 4 ways—and the dye was all spread out. Took about 2 minutes. When I sat up, there was a big reddish-brown stain on the sheet where my shoulder had been. I don’t know if it was blood or dye…I hope it was dye! Or antiseptic. Doc slathered my shoulder with more alcohol after he was done.
Nurse walked me down to the MRI room. Connie ran the machine; took about 20 minutes for that—after she wrapped some kind of padding around the shoulder area to immobilize it. I wonder if this was what is called an “open” MRI. When I had an MRI after a concussion, it was a much bigger unit and a much smaller tube. This one felt almost airy—doesn’t bother me either way.
The thing with MRIs is they are soooo noisy—and they make a variety of sounds. First I was inside a water pik, and construction site, and who knows where else. I asked Connie about that and she said the different sound waves affect the tissues in different ways, which gives different images. Oh, and in case you haven’t figured it out, the dye is also supposed to give a better image.
Yeah—I looked at some of those MRI images. Ain’t no way anyone can see anything or figure out anything. They just pretend. Ha.
Anyway, I have an appointment with the ortho doc on Monday. After he sees the images, he’s supposed to be able to tell me what’s going on and if I’ll need surgery. And That will be a whole ‘nuther story.
It looks like I’m probably going to have arthroscopic surgery on my right shoulder.
Let me take you back to June, 2011, for the stupid part. I was walking Baxter and Kasey. Kasey is Nan’s not-so-new-now dog, and we (John & I) were dog sitting. Normally I do not like or use a retractable leash, but for some reason, that stupid day I was.
It’s not clear to me now why Kasey lunged, but he jerked my right arm and shoulder around. Big deal. Not the first time I’ve been jerked around. Later that day I was trying to fix the table next to John’s chair. The legs have grooves and the two shelves slide into the grooves…and occasionally work their way out of them, which means the table will fall down. Of course I was trying to fix it without taking anything off the table; John didn’t understand what I was trying to do, the recumbent bike with its ton-and-a-half front wheel was in the way…and by then I was mad. I think I tried to drag the bike to one side with my right arm, which had already been strained by the dog and trying to manipulate the table without help…
So while I didn’t really notice anything in the heat of my immaturity, later on I thought…OW!
Gee, my right collar bone seemed to be bulging, it was red, and really sore. Of course, I ignored it, except for some cold compresses and/or hot, and/or ibuprofen. I don’t remember now how long I waited before I finally went to a doctor of internal medicine—because I kept thinking it would go away, but finally I wondered if maybe I had fractured my clavicle.
Doc took an x-ray; no, it wasn’t broken. Tissue/tendons are probably just inflamed; keep doing what I was doing; come back if it didn’t get better.
So….5 months later, the clavicle itself wasn’t sore or red, but it had never flattened out again…and by then I was having pain in my right shoulder and down my arm if I moved it “wrong,” and mobility was becoming limited.
Went back to the doc. Nah, it’s not broken, but I might have inflammation in the shoulder joint. I don’t think he thought there was a connection between clavicle and shoulder, but I KNEW there was. Still…he prescribed Medrol. Pain lessened, even though mobility didn’t improve. Took a second round since pain wasn’t quite all gone. Yeah, it helped…for a short time.
Takes me awhile but I finally thought, OK, something is going on. Maybe I should go to an actual bone doctor and see what a specialist has to say.
Saw the orthopedic surgeon a couple of days after Christmas. He had some long name for the clavicle, which is not broken, but it IS dislocated. He said he could push it back into place, but it would just pop out again. It wouldn’t hurt anything being like it was.
OK, fine, said I, but what about the pain in my shoulder. I’m sure they’re connected.
Don’t ya love doctors. He got up and pressed my shoulder back and –something else I don’t remember, because at the point I yelled, OW!
Oh, he says, you may have a tear in there…he didn’t say rotator cuff, and I don’t remember now what. Here I’m always telling people to take a little voice recorder with them to record what the doctor says, and I had mine in my purse…and didn’t use it.
Be that as it may, he then wanted me to have an MRI with contrast. Which I had done today. And you just try to get the same story from different people. Doc said they’ll give you the films/CD before you leave; make another appt with me then and bring them. Imaging place said they’d send them to the doc. Well, I won’t go into all that—suffice it to say they gave me the films and CD before I left today.
Imaging place also kept saying “arthrogram” instead of MRI. Turns out injecting the contrast is the arthrogram—although when that word first came up and I googled it, the procedure described wasn’t really accurate—at least not compared to what I had. And then even though my appt was scheduled for 1 pm today, somewhere in there the doc who did the procedure had been called out to an emergency, so it was after 2:30 before they called me back.
However, since I had befriended Macy at the front counter, she took me aside, explained and apologized about the extended wait, gave me a gift card for Jack-in-the-Box, suggested I go eat, be back by around 2:30. So I did. Only when I saw the Jack card, I thought "McDonald's" and went there, which just proves that sometimes sound gets lost in the translation between ears and brain. I still brought back cookies for the group.
A short while after I got back to the waiting room, here came one fellow, took me to the undressing room, where they also give you a little locker & the key to it, where you leave your clothes & purse—if you happen to be a woman. Long cloth gown and paper shorts are the fashion of the moment.
Nurse/assistant/tech came and got me. Doc came in, explained what he was going to do.
I was lying there with my shoulder exposed, he slathered it with alcohol, then covered it with plastic! Meanwhile there’s this camera? thing hovering over me, and I glance to my left and see a monitor screen –and there’s my shoulder …just the lovely bones. I guess they call that camera/x-ray a fluoroscope. Cool! I watched in real time as the doc inserted a longggg needle with numbing agent into or near the shoulder joint. It was uncomfortable, but really not bad. Then he came back with another longggg needle—and I saw the “dye” squirt into the area. Cool!
I had been told it would take about 30 minutes for the dye to spread, but the nurse had me move my arm 4 ways—and the dye was all spread out. Took about 2 minutes. When I sat up, there was a big reddish-brown stain on the sheet where my shoulder had been. I don’t know if it was blood or dye…I hope it was dye! Or antiseptic. Doc slathered my shoulder with more alcohol after he was done.
Nurse walked me down to the MRI room. Connie ran the machine; took about 20 minutes for that—after she wrapped some kind of padding around the shoulder area to immobilize it. I wonder if this was what is called an “open” MRI. When I had an MRI after a concussion, it was a much bigger unit and a much smaller tube. This one felt almost airy—doesn’t bother me either way.
The thing with MRIs is they are soooo noisy—and they make a variety of sounds. First I was inside a water pik, and construction site, and who knows where else. I asked Connie about that and she said the different sound waves affect the tissues in different ways, which gives different images. Oh, and in case you haven’t figured it out, the dye is also supposed to give a better image.
Yeah—I looked at some of those MRI images. Ain’t no way anyone can see anything or figure out anything. They just pretend. Ha.
Anyway, I have an appointment with the ortho doc on Monday. After he sees the images, he’s supposed to be able to tell me what’s going on and if I’ll need surgery. And That will be a whole ‘nuther story.
Labels:
arthrogram,
dislocation,
dye injection,
MRI,
orthopedic surgeon,
shoulder,
stupidity
Monday, December 26, 2011
Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the town...
December 26, 2011
No mail delivery today—darn it! But that’s the only real negative. Normally John and I don’t get out the day after Christmas—all those crazy shoppers and gift-returners. But for some reason we decided to chance it today.
So, we got out a little after 10. Wanted to check out a piece of exercise equipment at Academy Sports first. We made the long drive over there (longer because John makes longcuts rather than shortcuts, plus he turned too soon and if you mess-up in and around the Central Expwy area, you can’t get directly from here to over there without first going there to there to around and here.
We wound up not getting what we intended to buy—mostly because my collar bone is still messed up, and when I tried to support myself on the frame, it hurt my shoulder. (I’ve got to get myself to an orthopedic doc before this gets any worse.) Anyway, we wound up getting another weight bench, which we haven’t had for awhile because we (I) have been using a weights and pulley machine that John picked up cheap at a yard sale up the street several years ago, but it was time to get rid of it. This weight bench has some features our old one didn’t, so expect to hear me creak and groan after I’ve used it…and which, by the way, we had a devil of a time getting out of the back of the truck, because the lock/latch handle of the tailgate decided to break right after John & the employee got it lifted onto the truck bed, and John and I had to maneuver it over the side of the truck without destroying it—the truck and the weight bench. Oh yeah, did I mention it came with 100 lbs of weights?
The point of that is, as busy as it was at Academy, we didn’t have to wait in a check-out line to pay for the thing. Then we drove to the Best Buy in the same area so I could return the portable DVD player John gave me for Christmas. We are not exactly ignorant as to how electronics work, but neither of us could get a full-screen image on the thing –and the screen was only 9” big, so a 5” DVD picture just didn’t cut it. Tried four different DVDs with the same results. And the Options button that was supposed to bring up a menu to adjust, wouldn’t—unless no DVD was in the machine, and then it would pop up but you couldn’t adjust anything because there wasn’t anything in the player to adjust! We even read the instructions of all things. Still wouldn’t work right.
And as busy as Best Buy was, I didn’t have to wait in line at the initial return desk, and then when I moved on to the actual process-the-return area, no one was ahead of me in line, although there were people at each of the four registers. And that wait was only a couple of minutes before it was my turn, zip zap, credited to the card and I was outta there. (John was guarding the 100 lb-plus box in the back of the truck.)
Next stop, Target. I had two stocking stuffers from John to return. If I’d seen a long line at Customer Service, I’d have turned around and left. NO ONE. Not one person in line. No one at the counter but the clerk. I picked up my jaw, made the return, then decided to see if that Target had any bags of True North Chocolate Nut Crunch—which if you haven’t tried, you need to –and yes, they did. One person in front of me at the register, and just finishing up. Almost not a wait at all.
And then, because everything else had gone so easily, I asked John to stop at Walmart—I’d almost forgotten the after-Christmas half-price candy sale! Gasp! We stopped, they had several bags of Hershey kisses, one person ahead of me in line—and then a clerk opened the next register and called me over!
John got the old exercise unit taken apart, and then called Greg next door to see if he could use the cables and pulleys down at his deer lease. Yep; he got those, and helped John carry all the rest of the framework to the curb for pick-up tomorrow. Uh-huh. It’s already gone. Someone came along about an hour ago and salvaged all that metal.
And that’s our day-after-Christmas, which was more interesting than our Christmas Day. John went to the hospital as a Eucharistic Minister, which he loves. I exercised as usual. We opened stockings. He took a nap because he’d been to midnight mass Christmas eve. We played one game of Trivial Pursuit and one of dominoes…I whipped John both games. Ha. I worked at the computer because that’s what I do. Life in the fast lane.
No mail delivery today—darn it! But that’s the only real negative. Normally John and I don’t get out the day after Christmas—all those crazy shoppers and gift-returners. But for some reason we decided to chance it today.
So, we got out a little after 10. Wanted to check out a piece of exercise equipment at Academy Sports first. We made the long drive over there (longer because John makes longcuts rather than shortcuts, plus he turned too soon and if you mess-up in and around the Central Expwy area, you can’t get directly from here to over there without first going there to there to around and here.
We wound up not getting what we intended to buy—mostly because my collar bone is still messed up, and when I tried to support myself on the frame, it hurt my shoulder. (I’ve got to get myself to an orthopedic doc before this gets any worse.) Anyway, we wound up getting another weight bench, which we haven’t had for awhile because we (I) have been using a weights and pulley machine that John picked up cheap at a yard sale up the street several years ago, but it was time to get rid of it. This weight bench has some features our old one didn’t, so expect to hear me creak and groan after I’ve used it…and which, by the way, we had a devil of a time getting out of the back of the truck, because the lock/latch handle of the tailgate decided to break right after John & the employee got it lifted onto the truck bed, and John and I had to maneuver it over the side of the truck without destroying it—the truck and the weight bench. Oh yeah, did I mention it came with 100 lbs of weights?
The point of that is, as busy as it was at Academy, we didn’t have to wait in a check-out line to pay for the thing. Then we drove to the Best Buy in the same area so I could return the portable DVD player John gave me for Christmas. We are not exactly ignorant as to how electronics work, but neither of us could get a full-screen image on the thing –and the screen was only 9” big, so a 5” DVD picture just didn’t cut it. Tried four different DVDs with the same results. And the Options button that was supposed to bring up a menu to adjust, wouldn’t—unless no DVD was in the machine, and then it would pop up but you couldn’t adjust anything because there wasn’t anything in the player to adjust! We even read the instructions of all things. Still wouldn’t work right.
And as busy as Best Buy was, I didn’t have to wait in line at the initial return desk, and then when I moved on to the actual process-the-return area, no one was ahead of me in line, although there were people at each of the four registers. And that wait was only a couple of minutes before it was my turn, zip zap, credited to the card and I was outta there. (John was guarding the 100 lb-plus box in the back of the truck.)
Next stop, Target. I had two stocking stuffers from John to return. If I’d seen a long line at Customer Service, I’d have turned around and left. NO ONE. Not one person in line. No one at the counter but the clerk. I picked up my jaw, made the return, then decided to see if that Target had any bags of True North Chocolate Nut Crunch—which if you haven’t tried, you need to –and yes, they did. One person in front of me at the register, and just finishing up. Almost not a wait at all.
And then, because everything else had gone so easily, I asked John to stop at Walmart—I’d almost forgotten the after-Christmas half-price candy sale! Gasp! We stopped, they had several bags of Hershey kisses, one person ahead of me in line—and then a clerk opened the next register and called me over!
John got the old exercise unit taken apart, and then called Greg next door to see if he could use the cables and pulleys down at his deer lease. Yep; he got those, and helped John carry all the rest of the framework to the curb for pick-up tomorrow. Uh-huh. It’s already gone. Someone came along about an hour ago and salvaged all that metal.
And that’s our day-after-Christmas, which was more interesting than our Christmas Day. John went to the hospital as a Eucharistic Minister, which he loves. I exercised as usual. We opened stockings. He took a nap because he’d been to midnight mass Christmas eve. We played one game of Trivial Pursuit and one of dominoes…I whipped John both games. Ha. I worked at the computer because that’s what I do. Life in the fast lane.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Who'd have thought...
Tuesday, Oct. 25, 2011
I have bad bunions. Haven't worn anything but New Balance running shoes for years because they're the only company that seemed to make D-width shoes, which I needed as the bunions grew worse. 7-1/2D-- but even those have been hard to find lately, and the ones I have found still didn't fit right. So all my shoes are worn out or close to worn out. Going barefoot is not an option because that's painful for the bunions, too. Not as painful as surgery, of course, but cheaper.
So...a year or two or three ago (I'm not too slow), I happened to spot a New Balance store on NW Hwy as I was zipping past going somewhere else. Don't remember where and it doesn't matter anyway. But I never forgot it.
Kept putting it off because it's a long drive over there, but today, I made the trek.
GASP! They actually have trained people who help you. James actually MEASURED my foot. He said my feet are actually rather narrow--except where the bunions are. He suggested I might want to try an 8B instead of a 7-1/2D. Yeah, sure.
He brought me a pair of running shoes that might have been made in heaven. Of course, I was giddy about the cushioning, since the cushioning in all my shoes is long past its prime. But my heels felt snug and my toes didn't.
I could have danced in the store. I bought two pair. They weren't even on sale. Now if they just don't kill my feet around the house, not only do I have two keeper pair of new shoes, but I can hit the self-serve places and look for a size they might actually have in stock.
I have bad bunions. Haven't worn anything but New Balance running shoes for years because they're the only company that seemed to make D-width shoes, which I needed as the bunions grew worse. 7-1/2D-- but even those have been hard to find lately, and the ones I have found still didn't fit right. So all my shoes are worn out or close to worn out. Going barefoot is not an option because that's painful for the bunions, too. Not as painful as surgery, of course, but cheaper.
So...a year or two or three ago (I'm not too slow), I happened to spot a New Balance store on NW Hwy as I was zipping past going somewhere else. Don't remember where and it doesn't matter anyway. But I never forgot it.
Kept putting it off because it's a long drive over there, but today, I made the trek.
GASP! They actually have trained people who help you. James actually MEASURED my foot. He said my feet are actually rather narrow--except where the bunions are. He suggested I might want to try an 8B instead of a 7-1/2D. Yeah, sure.
He brought me a pair of running shoes that might have been made in heaven. Of course, I was giddy about the cushioning, since the cushioning in all my shoes is long past its prime. But my heels felt snug and my toes didn't.
I could have danced in the store. I bought two pair. They weren't even on sale. Now if they just don't kill my feet around the house, not only do I have two keeper pair of new shoes, but I can hit the self-serve places and look for a size they might actually have in stock.
Labels:
bunions,
dance,
feet,
heels,
measure,
New Balance,
running shoes,
self-serve,
shoe size,
shoes,
toes
Thursday, September 15, 2011
ah me, ah gee, golly gee
What is this? Thursday, Sept 15, 2011. It's been one of those days; actually it's been a six of one, half-dozen-of-another days.
Seemed to drop one thing after another this morning, and then dropped supper--a tuna/rice salad--just as I was getting ready to dish it up. Bowl slipped right out of my hand and landed on the LR carpet and assorted other places. Fortunately enough remained in the steel bowl that we could still eat, but there went Sat. leftovers.
At Tom Thumb, I got stuck at the self-checkout, first because someone in front of me had some problem, and the register in front of him was having the tape changed. When the clerk was done, I whipped ahead of problem-man, managed to check out--and the register tape didn't print, so had to wait while clerk got that fixed.
And at Walmart, some dimwit had just finished checking out ahead of me--full basket of stuff, and his/her "card was empty" says the cashier to her supervisor. I'm not sure what card that was, but dimwit disappeared leaving all his groceries unpaid for. Perhaps I'm being unkind and judgemental of dimwit, but I don't care.
There were some other things, which I have blissfully forgotten, but meanwhile, back at the ranch, we'd been having a problem with the DVD/VCR unit that had been hooked up to our DVR via the TV, or the other way around--I don't know. Cliche: the "kid" next door hooked up all the assorted cables.
DVD unit would turn on...then turn off. I had checked connections, plugged, unplugged, etc. Still wasn't working right. No picture, no sound on TV because of that. Well, actually for awhile we had picture and no sound, but then today--neither. So when I got home, I pulled all the cables off the DVD/VCR and dumped it. Maybe it could have been repaired. I didn't care. I tossed it into the trash with great satisfaction.
And then I proceeded to hook all those cables into the back of the TV, which had to be moved, which entailed me also having to dust back there. Geez. I hooked things up the way they were supposed to be (fingers-crossed). No picture or sound. Just "Video 2" on screen. So I finally called FIOS. Horrible connection, but guy managed to tell me to use the TV remote to change input --and Voila! Sound and picture! Yay for me!
Now going back to supper spread all over the carpet. John and I got most of it picked up, then I plugged in my Bissell Little Green machine to suck up the tuna smell...and the squirter thing wouldn't squirt. Hadn't used the machine for awhile, but dammit... I was ready to throw that in the trash, too, but I decided to unscrew the little cover plate, messed with the spring and tubing inside, flushed out the tube in the clean water container...and I got it to work again! Yay me!
So then I decided to change the washer hot-water hose. Not a big deal you say? Yes, it is, since washer and dryer are in the garage, and John wasn't here to move the washer for me. So I did it (I will probably regret it tomorrow.) I not only changed out the hose, but the balance has been wonky, and I managed to adjust one of the feet--by tilting the washer on one end, holding, bending and adjusting the foot. I repeat, I will probably regret it tomorrow. I also felt the tub shift a little, so I hope I didn't throw that all whacked out.
And just so I end on another positive note, when I stopped at Kohl's this a.m. to return 3 things (and buy one on clearance with 20% coupon), I HAD to to to 1/2Price Books because it's right there. And I noticed a poetry book titled "She Took Off Her Wings & Shoes" by a poet I've never heard of, but the little bit I read made me buy it, even though it wasn't on clearance. So there.
Seemed to drop one thing after another this morning, and then dropped supper--a tuna/rice salad--just as I was getting ready to dish it up. Bowl slipped right out of my hand and landed on the LR carpet and assorted other places. Fortunately enough remained in the steel bowl that we could still eat, but there went Sat. leftovers.
At Tom Thumb, I got stuck at the self-checkout, first because someone in front of me had some problem, and the register in front of him was having the tape changed. When the clerk was done, I whipped ahead of problem-man, managed to check out--and the register tape didn't print, so had to wait while clerk got that fixed.
And at Walmart, some dimwit had just finished checking out ahead of me--full basket of stuff, and his/her "card was empty" says the cashier to her supervisor. I'm not sure what card that was, but dimwit disappeared leaving all his groceries unpaid for. Perhaps I'm being unkind and judgemental of dimwit, but I don't care.
There were some other things, which I have blissfully forgotten, but meanwhile, back at the ranch, we'd been having a problem with the DVD/VCR unit that had been hooked up to our DVR via the TV, or the other way around--I don't know. Cliche: the "kid" next door hooked up all the assorted cables.
DVD unit would turn on...then turn off. I had checked connections, plugged, unplugged, etc. Still wasn't working right. No picture, no sound on TV because of that. Well, actually for awhile we had picture and no sound, but then today--neither. So when I got home, I pulled all the cables off the DVD/VCR and dumped it. Maybe it could have been repaired. I didn't care. I tossed it into the trash with great satisfaction.
And then I proceeded to hook all those cables into the back of the TV, which had to be moved, which entailed me also having to dust back there. Geez. I hooked things up the way they were supposed to be (fingers-crossed). No picture or sound. Just "Video 2" on screen. So I finally called FIOS. Horrible connection, but guy managed to tell me to use the TV remote to change input --and Voila! Sound and picture! Yay for me!
Now going back to supper spread all over the carpet. John and I got most of it picked up, then I plugged in my Bissell Little Green machine to suck up the tuna smell...and the squirter thing wouldn't squirt. Hadn't used the machine for awhile, but dammit... I was ready to throw that in the trash, too, but I decided to unscrew the little cover plate, messed with the spring and tubing inside, flushed out the tube in the clean water container...and I got it to work again! Yay me!
So then I decided to change the washer hot-water hose. Not a big deal you say? Yes, it is, since washer and dryer are in the garage, and John wasn't here to move the washer for me. So I did it (I will probably regret it tomorrow.) I not only changed out the hose, but the balance has been wonky, and I managed to adjust one of the feet--by tilting the washer on one end, holding, bending and adjusting the foot. I repeat, I will probably regret it tomorrow. I also felt the tub shift a little, so I hope I didn't throw that all whacked out.
And just so I end on another positive note, when I stopped at Kohl's this a.m. to return 3 things (and buy one on clearance with 20% coupon), I HAD to to to 1/2Price Books because it's right there. And I noticed a poetry book titled "She Took Off Her Wings & Shoes" by a poet I've never heard of, but the little bit I read made me buy it, even though it wasn't on clearance. So there.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
PST Summer Conference 2011
July 20, 2011
The Poetry Society of Texas Summer Conference was held in San Antonio, July 14-16, hosted by the San Antonio chapter of the PST. I've been to two so far-one in Fort Worth and one in Dallas. Three other ladies and I decided we'd drive down together-it's about 5 hours one way…if you know the way. Remember that point. This is long, so get settled.
Let me tell you first that John had been pushing for me to fly, which would have been out of Love Field rather than DFW, but between the hour drive to get there, having to be there early, who knows how much time waiting to go through security and boarding, the hour flight, and then getting a shuttle to the hotel-shoot, I could have driven and already been there.
So then he started pushing for us to rent a larger car-it'd be safer, more comfortable, more trunk room. Sigh…I finally conceded that point, mostly so it'd give him one less thing to worry about-since I'd be doing all the driving. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Rent cars have been fairly scarce around here because of a big hail storm a few months ago, and I suppose, summer vacationers now. Reserved a full-size car through Enterprise, which is about the only local rental agency in and around town; everything else is at the airports.
Really I wanted a Dodge Charger, but mostly anything except a Chevy Malibu. So of COURSE the ONLY damn car available when it was time to pick it up was a Malibu. What IS it with newer cars? Rear ends are so high you can't see to back up, headrests in the way so you can't see oncoming traffic on the right, the frame struts around the windows are in the direct line of vision so you can't see traffic on the right, and the windows are so tiny you can barely see out of them. Jeez. The only thing I'll give the Malibu is the road noise was muted, and the trunk managed to hold all the luggage & extras for four ladies (or reasonable facsimiles). I was also hauling a big box of ribbon-tied sets of poetry books to donate for raffle prizes, plus books to sell.
Anyway, we got started a little later than I wanted to on Thursday morning, but we were going in the opposite direction of going-to-work traffic, so we didn't have any trouble getting out of town and on the road. I had my GPS and had printed out Mapquest directions along with all the little in-between maps. Marilyn was my navigator and did a fine job. Only two rest stops along the way, which included one gas-up. We decided to try the toll road around Austin (I had my toll tag with me, temporarily registered to the rental). Wow, most of the time there were only two or three cars on the road, one of them being us.
So we got to San Antonio, we were THISClose to getting to the Airport Hilton, we could, in fact, see a Hilton past a Y in the road where the Loop and Blanco Road diverge. But my GPS said stay left; Mapquest said if you reach Blanco Rd you've gone to far. So I veered left, GPS said turn left at whatever. All of us thought, oh that must be a different Hilton that we see up ahead. We're near the airport; maybe there are Two Hiltons, one on each side of the Loop, so we want the one that's on the opposite side of the Loop.
Well, to cut that short, the stupid GPS had us going in circles FOUR times because we were all too stupid to figure out there was a problem…except for Marilyn who finally said just as we were about to do the 5th go-round, "Let's go to the Hilton we can see and ask for directions." OK.
Of course it was exactly the Hilton we were looking for. We all agreed we weren't going to tell anybody how stupid we were…and then, of course, promptly started telling everyone just that. Fortunately for our egos, we learned we weren't the only ones who had really stupid GPSs.
So we unloaded the trunk; had our luggage put in the storage room because supposedly we couldn't check in until 3 pm. I had reserved a single over a month ago (special group rate for the PST); Marilyn and Pat were sharing a double, and Linda was sharing a double with a friend who had driven in from Fort Worth with someone else.
We got registered at the PST desk, got all the books dumped in the book room-we were already running late because of our circular-well, gee, if the GPS says it, it must be true mindset-and the first speaker, the one I had really wanted to see (karla morton, the 2010 poet laureate) was just finishing up her 30 minute presentation, I just barely managed to hear two of her poems-and then didn't even get to do more than say Hi, because she had to rush back to Denton (at least a six hour drive, I think) because she had promised to take her son to the midnight showing of the new & last Harry Potter movie. RATS.
When there was a break, I tried to check-in. Yes, they had my reservation but the room wasn't ready yet. I went back twice more, meanwhile missing more of the speakers (and I wasn't the only one this was happening to.) The second attempt, I never made it to the desk-too many people in line. Nuts to it. The third time I started hearing things about overbooked, shuttle to other hotels, lists, overbooked by 30-60 people.
Well, what we eventually found out-and if they had told us this in the first place it would have helped a little, but they didn't-is they were expecting a bus of about 30 military personnel, but what arrived were around 60. Supposedly hotels are required to accommodate the military, in spite of other reservations.
I don't know. I just know that after standing around and waiting for one manager or another to do this or that, to get our "comp" letters to take to-in this case-the Embassy Suites, and then waiting for this particular manager to go look for envelopes to put them in, then get our luggage, and then wait for the shuttle, then have to drive there, unload, register, wait for the shuttle to go back…several of us missed most of the afternoon and part of the evening's events. We were not happy.
Free room for the night. Big whoop. We had to pay a registration fee for the conference and we were missing the conference. Marilyn, Pat & I had debated whether to chance packing everything up Friday morning on the supposed guarantee we'd have room at the Hilton the next night-but we still wouldn't know or be able to check in until at least 3. So we opted to stay at the Embassy.
Hilton was trying to say, well, if it's your preference we won't comp the second night. Oh yes you will, says I. It's not our preference but a matter of being assured a place to stay and not having to drag stuff back and forth, and because we were missing programs we'd paid to see, and we were Not happy, and we got the second night comp'd (complimentary) also…which pretty much covered the cost of the rent car, by the way (all John's and my dime since it was his preference.)
Aside from the inconvenience, let me tell you the Embassy Suites are way nicer than the Hilton, too. All the rooms are actually two-sitting/office area and bedroom. Free breakfast buffet ($10+ at the Hilton), free coffee, one free drink every day, and probably some other stuff, but those are the highlights.
Now I've been telling you all about that because no one is really interested in a poetry conference unless you're at one. But let me tell you, you missed a fun time. Theme this time was Dancing with Poetry. All the speakers had programs that connected music to poetry (which can have rhythm, rhyme, meter, etc.) Two of the speakers taught some line dancing; we had dance demonstrations at lunch on Thursday, and at both dinners Thurs. & Friday.
One young man, who had recently won the UIL award…University Interscholastic Literary? -is a Performance Poet, which means he doesn't read poems, he performs them. Visual and verbal poetry. He entertained us at Friday dinner, before the keynote speaker.
We had contests-the traditional "You Be the Judge," which I didn't win, but came close-sort of; a special dance poem contest, which I also didn't win; and then our monthly contests, in which I did win 2nd place. We also had the Life Member Fund raffle drawings. The first two or three times they drew one of my tickets, they were for prizes I'd donated, which I refused to accept, so they drew other tickets. Finally managed two other prizes, one of which I gave away; the other-a knapsack filled with things for the poet-on-the-go, that I kept.
Oh by the way, the banquet room had round tables arranged around the dance floor, and then the long head table up on the dais; different people were asked to sit at the Big Boys table at each meal. I was up there Friday night…and I have to tell you, I don't like sitting up there. I had Pat on my right, and another, second-Loretta on my left. It turned out 2nd Loretta had been a novice nun for five years many years ago, but when it was time to take final orders, she decided it wasn't her vocation, so she came back to Texas, where she met her husband, who is a retired florist, and provided all the roses and other flower decorations. Pat is also Catholic. When 2nd-Loretta told me she'd almost become a nun, I cracked up, told her about Catholic-man John, told her he prayed for me a lot, and she said to tell him that she was putting me on her prayer list, too. LOL
I had also been asked to be the Spotlight Poet in our "mock" monthly meeting on Sat., but I knew one lady-1st-Loretta--had just recently won a book publication contest, and since she had some of the book poems with her, I suggested to her and the Spotlight chair that she be allowed to be the Spotlight. After all, I'm at the monthly meetings in Dallas-they could hear me anytime; whereas Loretta lives in Odessa. She is a good poet-and funny.
Speaking of which, the last poet on Sat. was an English woman who read her funny poems.
And just so you know, the speakers do a lot of topic talking-they don't just read poems. It's educational, funny, surprising. One speaker had a workshop and had us work on push-pull poems, which it doesn't matter to this report what that means, except I no sooner had something down on paper than I had to fight tears. Anne (poet/teacher) told me later she'd seen me struggling and wanted to come over and hug me but didn't want to draw attention to that struggle either.
Before we shuttled-off the Hilton coil and went to the Embassy on Friday night, Marilyn, Pat, Linda, Budd, 1st-Loretta and I had free drinks (a second minor comp for all the inconvenience, frustration, irritation) at the Hilton bar. (I had my first vodka and tonic with a twist of lime; that is, it was actually my third one since I'd had one the night before because that's what Marilyn had, so thought I'd give it a try, and then I bought one-gasp!-at Happy Hour Friday early evening.) Plus Loretta ordered some hot wings and "made" us share. Had a lot of fun just talking together. Programs were scheduled so closely together, and breaks were so short, that talk time was limited to meals and after the last speaker each day.
I'm not sure when we got back on the road Sat. afternoon-probably around one. Made three stops on the way home, the last one partly a rest stop, but also conveniently at the Czech Stop so Linda could buy some kolaches (sweet rolls) for her husband. Toll road was a little busier going north on Sat. but not much. Reached Linda's around 6, I guess, dropped off everyone, then got myself home around 7.
Now, I took several snapshots and several videos this time. As soon as I can get them processed, I'll let you know the links. The videos going on YouTube will be unlisted-not for general public viewing, so you'll have to get the links from me if you want them.
The Poetry Society of Texas Summer Conference was held in San Antonio, July 14-16, hosted by the San Antonio chapter of the PST. I've been to two so far-one in Fort Worth and one in Dallas. Three other ladies and I decided we'd drive down together-it's about 5 hours one way…if you know the way. Remember that point. This is long, so get settled.
Let me tell you first that John had been pushing for me to fly, which would have been out of Love Field rather than DFW, but between the hour drive to get there, having to be there early, who knows how much time waiting to go through security and boarding, the hour flight, and then getting a shuttle to the hotel-shoot, I could have driven and already been there.
So then he started pushing for us to rent a larger car-it'd be safer, more comfortable, more trunk room. Sigh…I finally conceded that point, mostly so it'd give him one less thing to worry about-since I'd be doing all the driving. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Rent cars have been fairly scarce around here because of a big hail storm a few months ago, and I suppose, summer vacationers now. Reserved a full-size car through Enterprise, which is about the only local rental agency in and around town; everything else is at the airports.
Really I wanted a Dodge Charger, but mostly anything except a Chevy Malibu. So of COURSE the ONLY damn car available when it was time to pick it up was a Malibu. What IS it with newer cars? Rear ends are so high you can't see to back up, headrests in the way so you can't see oncoming traffic on the right, the frame struts around the windows are in the direct line of vision so you can't see traffic on the right, and the windows are so tiny you can barely see out of them. Jeez. The only thing I'll give the Malibu is the road noise was muted, and the trunk managed to hold all the luggage & extras for four ladies (or reasonable facsimiles). I was also hauling a big box of ribbon-tied sets of poetry books to donate for raffle prizes, plus books to sell.
Anyway, we got started a little later than I wanted to on Thursday morning, but we were going in the opposite direction of going-to-work traffic, so we didn't have any trouble getting out of town and on the road. I had my GPS and had printed out Mapquest directions along with all the little in-between maps. Marilyn was my navigator and did a fine job. Only two rest stops along the way, which included one gas-up. We decided to try the toll road around Austin (I had my toll tag with me, temporarily registered to the rental). Wow, most of the time there were only two or three cars on the road, one of them being us.
So we got to San Antonio, we were THISClose to getting to the Airport Hilton, we could, in fact, see a Hilton past a Y in the road where the Loop and Blanco Road diverge. But my GPS said stay left; Mapquest said if you reach Blanco Rd you've gone to far. So I veered left, GPS said turn left at whatever. All of us thought, oh that must be a different Hilton that we see up ahead. We're near the airport; maybe there are Two Hiltons, one on each side of the Loop, so we want the one that's on the opposite side of the Loop.
Well, to cut that short, the stupid GPS had us going in circles FOUR times because we were all too stupid to figure out there was a problem…except for Marilyn who finally said just as we were about to do the 5th go-round, "Let's go to the Hilton we can see and ask for directions." OK.
Of course it was exactly the Hilton we were looking for. We all agreed we weren't going to tell anybody how stupid we were…and then, of course, promptly started telling everyone just that. Fortunately for our egos, we learned we weren't the only ones who had really stupid GPSs.
So we unloaded the trunk; had our luggage put in the storage room because supposedly we couldn't check in until 3 pm. I had reserved a single over a month ago (special group rate for the PST); Marilyn and Pat were sharing a double, and Linda was sharing a double with a friend who had driven in from Fort Worth with someone else.
We got registered at the PST desk, got all the books dumped in the book room-we were already running late because of our circular-well, gee, if the GPS says it, it must be true mindset-and the first speaker, the one I had really wanted to see (karla morton, the 2010 poet laureate) was just finishing up her 30 minute presentation, I just barely managed to hear two of her poems-and then didn't even get to do more than say Hi, because she had to rush back to Denton (at least a six hour drive, I think) because she had promised to take her son to the midnight showing of the new & last Harry Potter movie. RATS.
When there was a break, I tried to check-in. Yes, they had my reservation but the room wasn't ready yet. I went back twice more, meanwhile missing more of the speakers (and I wasn't the only one this was happening to.) The second attempt, I never made it to the desk-too many people in line. Nuts to it. The third time I started hearing things about overbooked, shuttle to other hotels, lists, overbooked by 30-60 people.
Well, what we eventually found out-and if they had told us this in the first place it would have helped a little, but they didn't-is they were expecting a bus of about 30 military personnel, but what arrived were around 60. Supposedly hotels are required to accommodate the military, in spite of other reservations.
I don't know. I just know that after standing around and waiting for one manager or another to do this or that, to get our "comp" letters to take to-in this case-the Embassy Suites, and then waiting for this particular manager to go look for envelopes to put them in, then get our luggage, and then wait for the shuttle, then have to drive there, unload, register, wait for the shuttle to go back…several of us missed most of the afternoon and part of the evening's events. We were not happy.
Free room for the night. Big whoop. We had to pay a registration fee for the conference and we were missing the conference. Marilyn, Pat & I had debated whether to chance packing everything up Friday morning on the supposed guarantee we'd have room at the Hilton the next night-but we still wouldn't know or be able to check in until at least 3. So we opted to stay at the Embassy.
Hilton was trying to say, well, if it's your preference we won't comp the second night. Oh yes you will, says I. It's not our preference but a matter of being assured a place to stay and not having to drag stuff back and forth, and because we were missing programs we'd paid to see, and we were Not happy, and we got the second night comp'd (complimentary) also…which pretty much covered the cost of the rent car, by the way (all John's and my dime since it was his preference.)
Aside from the inconvenience, let me tell you the Embassy Suites are way nicer than the Hilton, too. All the rooms are actually two-sitting/office area and bedroom. Free breakfast buffet ($10+ at the Hilton), free coffee, one free drink every day, and probably some other stuff, but those are the highlights.
Now I've been telling you all about that because no one is really interested in a poetry conference unless you're at one. But let me tell you, you missed a fun time. Theme this time was Dancing with Poetry. All the speakers had programs that connected music to poetry (which can have rhythm, rhyme, meter, etc.) Two of the speakers taught some line dancing; we had dance demonstrations at lunch on Thursday, and at both dinners Thurs. & Friday.
One young man, who had recently won the UIL award…University Interscholastic Literary? -is a Performance Poet, which means he doesn't read poems, he performs them. Visual and verbal poetry. He entertained us at Friday dinner, before the keynote speaker.
We had contests-the traditional "You Be the Judge," which I didn't win, but came close-sort of; a special dance poem contest, which I also didn't win; and then our monthly contests, in which I did win 2nd place. We also had the Life Member Fund raffle drawings. The first two or three times they drew one of my tickets, they were for prizes I'd donated, which I refused to accept, so they drew other tickets. Finally managed two other prizes, one of which I gave away; the other-a knapsack filled with things for the poet-on-the-go, that I kept.
Oh by the way, the banquet room had round tables arranged around the dance floor, and then the long head table up on the dais; different people were asked to sit at the Big Boys table at each meal. I was up there Friday night…and I have to tell you, I don't like sitting up there. I had Pat on my right, and another, second-Loretta on my left. It turned out 2nd Loretta had been a novice nun for five years many years ago, but when it was time to take final orders, she decided it wasn't her vocation, so she came back to Texas, where she met her husband, who is a retired florist, and provided all the roses and other flower decorations. Pat is also Catholic. When 2nd-Loretta told me she'd almost become a nun, I cracked up, told her about Catholic-man John, told her he prayed for me a lot, and she said to tell him that she was putting me on her prayer list, too. LOL
I had also been asked to be the Spotlight Poet in our "mock" monthly meeting on Sat., but I knew one lady-1st-Loretta--had just recently won a book publication contest, and since she had some of the book poems with her, I suggested to her and the Spotlight chair that she be allowed to be the Spotlight. After all, I'm at the monthly meetings in Dallas-they could hear me anytime; whereas Loretta lives in Odessa. She is a good poet-and funny.
Speaking of which, the last poet on Sat. was an English woman who read her funny poems.
And just so you know, the speakers do a lot of topic talking-they don't just read poems. It's educational, funny, surprising. One speaker had a workshop and had us work on push-pull poems, which it doesn't matter to this report what that means, except I no sooner had something down on paper than I had to fight tears. Anne (poet/teacher) told me later she'd seen me struggling and wanted to come over and hug me but didn't want to draw attention to that struggle either.
Before we shuttled-off the Hilton coil and went to the Embassy on Friday night, Marilyn, Pat, Linda, Budd, 1st-Loretta and I had free drinks (a second minor comp for all the inconvenience, frustration, irritation) at the Hilton bar. (I had my first vodka and tonic with a twist of lime; that is, it was actually my third one since I'd had one the night before because that's what Marilyn had, so thought I'd give it a try, and then I bought one-gasp!-at Happy Hour Friday early evening.) Plus Loretta ordered some hot wings and "made" us share. Had a lot of fun just talking together. Programs were scheduled so closely together, and breaks were so short, that talk time was limited to meals and after the last speaker each day.
I'm not sure when we got back on the road Sat. afternoon-probably around one. Made three stops on the way home, the last one partly a rest stop, but also conveniently at the Czech Stop so Linda could buy some kolaches (sweet rolls) for her husband. Toll road was a little busier going north on Sat. but not much. Reached Linda's around 6, I guess, dropped off everyone, then got myself home around 7.
Now, I took several snapshots and several videos this time. As soon as I can get them processed, I'll let you know the links. The videos going on YouTube will be unlisted-not for general public viewing, so you'll have to get the links from me if you want them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
