Thursday, October 29, 2009
In the spirit of Halloween, here is a trip down memory lane back to 1997. Shelby and Angela were seven years old, John and Beverly were four, and Victoria was two.
Weren't they all so cute back then? I love the kids so much now that they are almost grown, but those younger days sure were a lot of fun. :)
Monday, October 26, 2009
I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights or its decor.
But it was the folks in Heaven
Who made me sputter and gasp-
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics and the trash.
There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice..
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.
Herb, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.
I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.
'And why's everyone so quiet,
So somber - give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' He said, 'they're all in shock..
No one thought they'd be seeing you.'
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Maybe it made a difference, maybe it didn't. But I want to think that it did.
Thursday night, when I was working in the concession stand for the varsity game, a young man who was a member of the football team came to the window.
He grinned at me and said, "Hey! You have any free hot dogs that you can spare?"
"Nice try, but no." I replied. "I have some good two dollar ones, though!"
"Aw, darn." He smiled and turned away from the window.
It wasn't but a few minutes, he was back. "Are you sure you don't have a free hot dog you can spare?"
I began to wonder if he was a friendly con man, or was he really that hungry? Then, as I smiled and shook my head in the negative, one of his friends came up and slapped him on the back.
"Hey, man, why aren't you playing?"
"Man, I didn't pass that vocab test, and Coach said I was ineligible to play today."
They talked together for a minute, then started walking away. I don't know what possessed me, but right then I called the young football player back to the window.
"Hey. Did I hear you say you are ineligible to play?"
He looked down for a second. "Yeah, I am."
I spoke to him with partially mock severity, and handed him a hot dog. "OK, listen to me. I'm going to buy you this hot dog, but you have to promise me that next week you will come back and tell me that you have brought your grades back up to passing."
He laughed, and said, "Hey, thanks! I sure will!"
I figured I was quite the sucker, but I didn't dwell on it too much. It is not common for any of the kids to ask for food more than once, so maybe he was really hungry. Or whatever. I put it out of my mind.
Well, guess what! Today I was cleaning the concession after the 9th grade game, and my football player came to the door.
He smiled a bit sheepishly, then said to me, "I came by to tell you that I am eligible to play now."
You could have knocked me over with the proverbial feather. The day I gave him the hot dog, that was exactly what I wanted to happen, but I did not expect to ever see him again. He not only brought his grade back up, but made the effort to let me know about it! The biggest reward for me was the big smile that flashed on his face when I stood up and applauded him.
Did one hot dog make a difference? Maybe not, but I guess I will never know for sure. The Pollyanna in me wants to think that it did.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
.... and this is no hoax. :)
I woke up with scratchy throat and stuffy nose.
"It must be a cold or sinus," I told my family. "Otherwise, I would have a fever."
I developed a headache by late morning, but took some sinus medication and felt better during the afternoon.
"See, I told you it wasn’t any big deal."
But then.... suddenly, around 6:00 PM or so, I was hit with chills, sneezing, and body aches.
"I sss-still think it’s a-a-a little cold..." I insisted through my chattering teeth.
My "little cold" had a pretty decent fever of 100.8. But, I like to live in denial. It's a pleasant place to live...! It wasn’t until late that evening I finally admitted to myself that I most likely had the flu.
I had to miss Church and Choir. They wouldn’t have wanted me, anyway, because I sounded like Kermit the Frog with laryngitis. In actuality, I was beginning to think this flu stuff wasn’t too bad. I still had a fever that was hanging around 101, couldn’t talk, but felt well enough to surf the 'net on my laptop while resting in bed. Pretty nice way to be sick!
Where am I? Who am I? I can’t get up! Did somebody break in and beat me up last night? I am hurting all over! Even the ends of my hair hurt, if you can believe that. What do you mean I have a fever of 103.4? That’s a radio station, not my temperature! No, I can’t drink anything, I feel like I’m going to be sick at my stomach. OK, ok, take me to the doctor. Please. (Did I say please?) I have a blur of a memory of the doctor swabbing my throat for strep, (negative) followed by a nasal swab (positive for influenza type A.)
"I already had my seasonal flu shot, Doc!"
"You almost certainly have H1N1 influenza. That is the 'Type A' strain that is going around at this time."
The doctor hit me with his best shot. A little Phenergan de Gluteus fixed my nausea, and I was sent out with prescriptions for hydrocodone cough syrup, asthma inhaler, oral Phenergan, and Tamiflu... a wonder drug... no lie! Arthur was instructed to be the driver. (Surely they didn’t think I drove there to begin with??)
I took my first Tamiflu and a dose of cough medicine as soon as I got home. I guess I went to bed after that, because that’s where I woke up the next morning.
I woke up feeling almost human. But, wait! John was outside my door crying. Literally.
"Mom! I have a percussion contest today."
"Ok, what time is your contest? And why are you crying?"
"Because I’m sick, and can barely move. I started feeling bad last night, but thought I could make it through the contest."
I felt his forehead, and even though I myself was still feverish, he was sizzling. I found our spare thermometer, and within a minute realized he wasn’t going to any contest, or even school that day. His fever was 102.
Once we had John medicated and tucked in bed with tissues, Gatorade, his phone, and remote within reach, I went back to bed. My afternoon temp= 100 degrees.
Much the same. John still sick, sleeping like a petrified log. His temp=103.5. Arthur and I rouse him every couple hours for medicine, to drink, eat, and change out of saturated t-shirts. My own afternoon temp= 100 degrees.
Much the same. John still sick. My afternoon temp= 100 degrees.
Not here yet. But watch the CBS Evening News on Friday! My supervisor with Oklahoma City Public Schools, Debbie Johnson, is going to be interviewed about the H1N1 flu and the community immunization clinics our school nurses will be participating in.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
I'm sorry, I promised photos, but inconveniently have come down with the flu. I'm feeling well enough to post one photo of my wonderful 15 year old son with his sister taken yesterday.
Where have those years gone?
Dear John, I hope your birthday was wonderful! I a very proud of you.