The Progeny
And This Was a Good Day in the Life of Ma
We begin late on a Sunday night, around elevenses. For some strange reason, Ma cannot sleep well without "el hombre" beside her. To alleviate this annoying symptom of weakness--and to distract herself from migraine-induced nausea--she watches TV in bed, hoping to become sleepy... "24 Hours." She has never seen it before, and suddenly she is no longer sleepy! Aside from that Jack "cute-as-a-button" Bauer, terroristic type happenings are happening, folks, and good grief! How could they end the episode right at the abduction of the secretary of state and his lovely daughter who just HAPPENS TO BE JACK'S GIRLFRIEND!
OH fer cryin' out loud!! How is Ma supposed to sleep NOW?
We'll just have to see what's comes on next....Star Trek. As in the original series! It is the episode concerning "Lord Mudd."
Ma learns an important lesson about how to successfully argue logically with androids and present them with illogical inconsistencies until their poor little artificial intelligences start to smoke! And once the smoke comes out of their heads it is only a matter of time before you can escape the planet and beam all your crew members back on board the Enterprise.
*sleep*
Ma awakens to a pleasant surprise...the usually psychotic bathroom space-heater, which runs like crazy when it's warm outside, and stays irritatingly silent when the weather turns cold, has actually decided to make the small master bath quite comfortable! It is as if a miracle came down from heaven! Like unto kids saying thank you or husbands offering to fold the laundry. (some miracles are less possible than others)
Ma hustles around, doing her weight-bearing exercise and then fixing breakfast. This latter endeavor involves making fresh Cocoa Wheats AND fresh oatmeal! Oh Ma--you are indeed a wonder!
*more nausea*
Then it is off to the spelling card box, where new words for the week are handed out to three school children who suddenly appear miserable, contenancially speaking. Who said life was all fun and games, huh? It will all be worth it some day, kids, when you TOO can make your children miserable.
The pace quickens, as Ma prepares to take the Derek-lad in for his pro-time. Just a 25 minute drive--no problem. But wait! Ma looks like a hag! What will she do?
She dabs some water onto her hair and puts on semi-clean clothes. She knows she will have to hit the treadmill before the noon meal, and ain't no WAY she is gonna take two showers before lunch.
With her typical superb driving skills, Ma negotiates the gravel road and highway, effortlessly shifting the gears in the Zippy Red Car. Narry a grind is heard.
Then comes the clinic. It is busy, in part due to a talkative grandmother who is there with her allergic grandson and telling everyone in sight about the trials she has been through, "First I tried mixed berries. THEN I tried strawberries..." Before she sits down, Ma hears the berry scenario THREE TIMES. Being a relatively nice person but not a TOTAL doormat, Ma pulls out her crossword puzzle book and puts on her "game" face.
Only twenty minutes after entering the clinic, Ma-and-son are called back.
Ah! It is a new tech to Ma. They all enter the secretive cubical where the curtain is drawn. Derek sits down in the secret chair. Ma stands and pulls out her secret puzzle book and pretends to look engrossed.
THIS is the point where things get tricksey.
In the past, one tech was so nice that she pointed out the lab result on the machine.
Another gave Ma's hubby some hassle, trying to usher everyone out before the secret number popped up.
This was NOT the nice tech, but was it the hassling tech?
Ma played it very cool. She even threw in some beguiling banter, the kind that makes one think Ma is your average, unassuming parent, just killing time while the kid is getting poked.
It is all a carefully planned ruse.
As the technician finishes up and says "All done!" Ma suddenly has to put her purse on the floor. The crossword puzzle book needs to be placed in the purse and frankly, this should be done in a way that is both compatible to the purse's needs, yet not disrespectful to the book. ("These things must be done del-icately...")
THEN, Ma has to put on her coat, s-l-o-w-l-y, since Ma is not a spring chicken anymore...
The tech tries to facilitate matters by walking over and opening the curtain, during which time Ma steps to the counter, coyly glances at the meter and sees the number 2.1 and says, "Thank you!" and quickly slips out into the hall.
Later, Derek informs Ma, "That's the same one that didn't want to let us see, before.."
YES!! ....*Ma pumps arm*....
Since Ma is still at the clinic, and she had spied the respiratory therapist over in the pharmacy earlier, and since Ma was capable of multi-tasking even before the age of home computers, she walks through half the hospital to visit with the EMT (who doubles as the respiratory therapist) and set up appointments for both her husband's monthly treatment and her daughter's next pulmonary function test.
It is accomplished! Ma leaves, secure in the knowledge that two appointments have been procured, saving time, gas money and most of all, putting husband in the "owes her" department, since he usually makes these appointments himself.
What next for formidable Ma?
Ever the vigilant maman, she calls home on her cell phone to see if everything is "all right." She had left the house with slight trepidations, knowing that her husband and 17-year-old daughter were absent. But surely the children will be safe under the care of a 14-year-old for 70 minutes?
All is well!
Twenty-five minutes later they arrive home, to find a five-year-old sitting on the couch with a cold cloth to his head.
Hmmm. It appears one more rule shall have to be added to the "When Mommy And Daddy Are Gone Scenario":
-no climbing trees
-no riding bikes
and
-NO SPINNING OF FIVE-YEAR-OLDS BY SEVEN-YEAR-OLDS AND THEN TOSSING THEM ONTO THE COUCH BUT MISSING AND HITTING THE BLUE TABLE.
Determining hurt child would live, Ma resumes more schoolishness with the 2nd grader, who seems to have forgotten a multiplication fact or two over the weekend.
*sigh*
JUST enough time to hop on the treadmill. Ma can only go for 1.5 miles, less than usual but better than nothing.
Shower, LUNCH and more nausea.
OOOOOooo. It is time for the weekly shopping trip. Ma takes the two young incorrigibles with her, deeming three hours too long a time for them to be without her moderating influences. It should be noted that at NO TIME did Ma lose the two children.
Home with just enough time to offload the groceries and watch a little news. At 5:55 Ma retires for a short snooze, mandatory to work up the strength to bake frozen pizza for supper.
Yet another listen to the Irish Tenors :-D and a short post and shorter IM with daughter Sharon.
*nausea*
EPIPHANY Could it be the cheapo brownie mixes have been causing the migraines? Ma gives serious consideration to possibly vowing off brownie mixes, where merely licking the bowl can produce undesirable results.
Ma gives a sad glance to the basket of clothes that hasn't been folded for 36 hours and decides she should really get to bed...
(of one thing you can be sure: when Ma gets a lot done in one day, very little gets done on the next)
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OH fer cryin' out loud!! How is Ma supposed to sleep NOW?
We'll just have to see what's comes on next....Star Trek. As in the original series! It is the episode concerning "Lord Mudd."
Ma learns an important lesson about how to successfully argue logically with androids and present them with illogical inconsistencies until their poor little artificial intelligences start to smoke! And once the smoke comes out of their heads it is only a matter of time before you can escape the planet and beam all your crew members back on board the Enterprise.
*sleep*
Ma awakens to a pleasant surprise...the usually psychotic bathroom space-heater, which runs like crazy when it's warm outside, and stays irritatingly silent when the weather turns cold, has actually decided to make the small master bath quite comfortable! It is as if a miracle came down from heaven! Like unto kids saying thank you or husbands offering to fold the laundry. (some miracles are less possible than others)
Ma hustles around, doing her weight-bearing exercise and then fixing breakfast. This latter endeavor involves making fresh Cocoa Wheats AND fresh oatmeal! Oh Ma--you are indeed a wonder!
*more nausea*
Then it is off to the spelling card box, where new words for the week are handed out to three school children who suddenly appear miserable, contenancially speaking. Who said life was all fun and games, huh? It will all be worth it some day, kids, when you TOO can make your children miserable.
The pace quickens, as Ma prepares to take the Derek-lad in for his pro-time. Just a 25 minute drive--no problem. But wait! Ma looks like a hag! What will she do?
She dabs some water onto her hair and puts on semi-clean clothes. She knows she will have to hit the treadmill before the noon meal, and ain't no WAY she is gonna take two showers before lunch.
With her typical superb driving skills, Ma negotiates the gravel road and highway, effortlessly shifting the gears in the Zippy Red Car. Narry a grind is heard.
Then comes the clinic. It is busy, in part due to a talkative grandmother who is there with her allergic grandson and telling everyone in sight about the trials she has been through, "First I tried mixed berries. THEN I tried strawberries..." Before she sits down, Ma hears the berry scenario THREE TIMES. Being a relatively nice person but not a TOTAL doormat, Ma pulls out her crossword puzzle book and puts on her "game" face.
Only twenty minutes after entering the clinic, Ma-and-son are called back.
Ah! It is a new tech to Ma. They all enter the secretive cubical where the curtain is drawn. Derek sits down in the secret chair. Ma stands and pulls out her secret puzzle book and pretends to look engrossed.
THIS is the point where things get tricksey.
In the past, one tech was so nice that she pointed out the lab result on the machine.
Another gave Ma's hubby some hassle, trying to usher everyone out before the secret number popped up.
This was NOT the nice tech, but was it the hassling tech?
Ma played it very cool. She even threw in some beguiling banter, the kind that makes one think Ma is your average, unassuming parent, just killing time while the kid is getting poked.
It is all a carefully planned ruse.
As the technician finishes up and says "All done!" Ma suddenly has to put her purse on the floor. The crossword puzzle book needs to be placed in the purse and frankly, this should be done in a way that is both compatible to the purse's needs, yet not disrespectful to the book. ("These things must be done del-icately...")
THEN, Ma has to put on her coat, s-l-o-w-l-y, since Ma is not a spring chicken anymore...
The tech tries to facilitate matters by walking over and opening the curtain, during which time Ma steps to the counter, coyly glances at the meter and sees the number 2.1 and says, "Thank you!" and quickly slips out into the hall.
Later, Derek informs Ma, "That's the same one that didn't want to let us see, before.."
YES!! ....*Ma pumps arm*....
Since Ma is still at the clinic, and she had spied the respiratory therapist over in the pharmacy earlier, and since Ma was capable of multi-tasking even before the age of home computers, she walks through half the hospital to visit with the EMT (who doubles as the respiratory therapist) and set up appointments for both her husband's monthly treatment and her daughter's next pulmonary function test.
It is accomplished! Ma leaves, secure in the knowledge that two appointments have been procured, saving time, gas money and most of all, putting husband in the "owes her" department, since he usually makes these appointments himself.
What next for formidable Ma?
Ever the vigilant maman, she calls home on her cell phone to see if everything is "all right." She had left the house with slight trepidations, knowing that her husband and 17-year-old daughter were absent. But surely the children will be safe under the care of a 14-year-old for 70 minutes?
All is well!
Twenty-five minutes later they arrive home, to find a five-year-old sitting on the couch with a cold cloth to his head.
Hmmm. It appears one more rule shall have to be added to the "When Mommy And Daddy Are Gone Scenario":
-no climbing trees
-no riding bikes
and
-NO SPINNING OF FIVE-YEAR-OLDS BY SEVEN-YEAR-OLDS AND THEN TOSSING THEM ONTO THE COUCH BUT MISSING AND HITTING THE BLUE TABLE.
Determining hurt child would live, Ma resumes more schoolishness with the 2nd grader, who seems to have forgotten a multiplication fact or two over the weekend.
*sigh*
JUST enough time to hop on the treadmill. Ma can only go for 1.5 miles, less than usual but better than nothing.
Shower, LUNCH and more nausea.
OOOOOooo. It is time for the weekly shopping trip. Ma takes the two young incorrigibles with her, deeming three hours too long a time for them to be without her moderating influences. It should be noted that at NO TIME did Ma lose the two children.
Home with just enough time to offload the groceries and watch a little news. At 5:55 Ma retires for a short snooze, mandatory to work up the strength to bake frozen pizza for supper.
Yet another listen to the Irish Tenors :-D and a short post and shorter IM with daughter Sharon.
*nausea*
EPIPHANY Could it be the cheapo brownie mixes have been causing the migraines? Ma gives serious consideration to possibly vowing off brownie mixes, where merely licking the bowl can produce undesirable results.
Ma gives a sad glance to the basket of clothes that hasn't been folded for 36 hours and decides she should really get to bed...
(of one thing you can be sure: when Ma gets a lot done in one day, very little gets done on the next)
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posted by Ma Hoyt | 9:20 PM
6 Comments:
All that counts for two days, especially with nausea!
(just so everyone knows who the good daughter is, that was Kendra talking with Mommy on IM, not me)
Spinning and tossing 5-year-olds.... what manner of game is this? It just sounds odd.
Sharon: I did talk to you for a bit on Monday, didn't I? I talked to Kendra on Tuesday. I just posted this the day after it happened, which probably added to the confusion...
O Vengeful One: Apparently, this game has been utilized by the older kids in my absence.
*dark look*
The seven-year-old, thinking his physical prowess matched that of his siblings, made a slight miscalculation, as did the older ones in initiating this "game."
I need a nap after reading that blog. Except for the fact that I never can fall asleep in the daylight hours.
Oh, and regarding Derek's test--isn't the patient allowed to know all the findings in their medical record??
Yes Thainamu, you would think so.
Except there must be some protocol thing going on.
At my inquiry, another lab tech said, "We're not supposed to tell you, but if you see it...*and then she points to the numbers on the readout*..."
:-D
In this particular case, the results are faxed to a doctor 2.5 hours south of us, and then his office gets back to us with the results and any change of dosage that is needed, as well as the next text date.
Usually, this doesn't get back to us for 48 hours.
And once, they never got it at ALL, and if we hadn't seen it, and that it was HIGH, and reported it directed to the nurse on her cell phone--who was visiting her grandkids in Indiana--Derek would have been waiting over the weekend to find out, during which time his level could have sky-rocketed.
It's a power thing.
In this case it seems rather stupid, as if we could bring down the government with our knowledge of Derek's pro-time numbers.
*rolls eyes*
And we can have the order changed so that they are directed to report the results to us.
But hopefully Derek won't be on an anticoagulant much longer, so one sorta hates to go to the trouble...
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