Thursday, May 08, 2008

The Enforcers

I had a horrible night last night. I was filled with apprehension.

I had to have an arthogram of my knee today and I knew that involved big needles. I'm a wimp that way.

I was very agitated and having a hard time settling into my "chill zone." Mark was being antagonistic and was having control issues. He wouldn't get out of my chair.

I went to bed after scrubbing cabinets in the kitchen (not my usual way of winding down). Mark kept finding ways to come into the kitchen and was laughing at me, mocking me in his not so subtle manner.

I just wanted to wind myself down and go to sleep and not think about what was going to happen to me today. It didn't work out the way that I wanted it to. I didn't get my way. I was mocked in the process.

I had very odd dreams that involved people that I didn't know. I was still in a funk when I woke up. I was still unhappy with the man of my dreams for being a toot in the previous evening.

I have a pathological fear of needles. I experienced natural childbirth four times because I once saw an epidural needle. No way in hell was someone going to put that into MY spine. I had a recurring nightmare for almost a year when I was a small child that involved someone killing my mother with an injection and then coming after me with a needle. I knew that I was going to get a "big stick" today and I was bothered by it.

I got to school and I knew that I was going to have to go away mid day to get stuck. I'm pretty hacked about the state of things with regard to my art history class. For some reason, I was scheduled to teach the class in the library this year which means that I have NO storage at all and I have to transport my technology (one has to view slides in art history) from a remote location every day. Also, when there is any kind of testing the library is used and I get kicked out (often with little notice) and sometimes I'm told that I can go teach my class in the auditorium with 15 other classes that have been kicked out of their space. So I'm kicked out of the library for two weeks because of AP testing, so I have NO place to go with MY AP kids. We've hunkered down in the corner of my studio art room invading on the space of the teacher (Mr. D.) who is scheduled in there that period.

I'm horribly pissed because I'm losing valuable instructional time with this class. Their AP exam is a week from today and they are not prepared.

I was walking to the art room this morning and I saw the two huge DISD police guys walking behind a young man who was talking into his cell phone (which are forbidden to be visible on campus) They were vehemently directing this young man to go away from campus and he was very disrespectful and kept on going. I saw my favorite security guy and another trailing along with very serious looks on their faces. I heard something about threats and weapons. It's before classes start and there are hundreds of kids on the walkway and of course they are all looking at the action.

What did I see? I saw the huge police guy halt the motion of the young man and slam him up against the wall. The kid was hollering and being ugly and belligerent and then I heard the zzzzip of a stun gun. Just the electrifying sound the incessant buzz of the electrical current. The young man became more cooperative very quickly and was herded back in the direction that he'd come from. I don't think he got zapped, he just heard the zapping sound.

I was shaken. I've seen the huge police guy strong-arm kids before. Each time, the young person was behaving very badly. I was unnerved at the strength of the response. If I'd not seen the youngsters acting in such a horrible way I would have thought the response was brutal. I'm still flabbergasted to see any human have to act on another human in such a way. In some ways I'm really glad that the huge police guy is there to enforce some kind of order. It's a sad statement that our society needs such things.

I go from this disturbing sight into the aforementioned corner. I have some cool magazines that have lots of art articles and I hand them out and ask my students to find something of interest that they can share with the group. We actually learn some cool things and we share around images that are old and new. There is some van Gogh and some Picasso and some Warhol and some da Vinci and some Jasper Johns and some Rembrandt that we talk about today. That is a good thing. I'm just pissed that my class is relegated to the corner of another active class. It's a good thing that I only have nine kids. I am encouraged because a few of them seem to have been studying. What a concept.

I go from my AP class to my art one class. I'm getting more apprehensive because I know that I have an appointment in a little while. I've only got one art one class and they really did actually do some work today. Not a lot, but some. I was busy taking care of other things. I sent "Stonewall" and "Joe Bananas" out on errands on behalf of our Academic Competition team. I fought with the printer. I filled out instructions for the sub tomorrow in the event that I might not be there.

The bell rang and I felt that it was my bell tolling. I didn't want to go, I would have rather scrubbed the grunge from the sink than go. But. . . I had an appointment. I got over to the medical office. It's a weird kind of deal. I go check in at one place and then I'm transported to another to see the radiologist and then go back to the first place for the MRI. The transporting has to do with insurance on the part of the medical provider.

I go check in. I sit in the waiting area and wait for the driver to show up. I end up having a strange conversation with one of the med techs and another patient about how disgusting it is for young people to wear sagging pants. We all agree that it is not polite in any society to show one's ass.

I'm hyperventilating almost by the time I get over to the radiologist. He's really sweet and pleasant. I guess if one is going to stick painful needles in other folks it's nice to be pleasant enough that they don't curse you. I only uttered one curse word as he moved the huge needle around in my knee joint. I did say quite a few "Holy Mother" and "Oh My God" and "Holy Crap." The doctor is so nice, I don't want to be mean to him. He's sympathetic. The lydocaine is not quite gone yet or I'd be hollering.

I go back to the other place for the MRI (with contrast). I'm a lot happier that my head doesn't have to go in the tube but I have an issue with getting into a good position. The tech wants me to stay motionless for an hour and a half. I tell him it's not going to happen as I can't be comfortable for two seconds. We compromise and work me into some kind of position that isn't devastating. I don't mind the jackhammer noise of the machine. I do mind the cramp that insinuated itself into my right butt cheek and wouldn't let go. I was ready to scream after a while. This was WORSE than childbirth. The tech has braces on his teeth. He's really sweet but he doesn't understand. He was kind enough to let me know that he'd go for the pictures that he really needed rather than running the whole program. I told him my right butt cheek was grateful.

Here I sit with the lydocaine wearing off. My knee is offended that a needle was inserted up inside the joint. I think it will be more offended tomorrow. I'm thinking that taking a pain pill and crawling into bed is a good idea.

That was my day. . . .

Briefly, I have to mention books 25 and 26. I read them. Figures of Speech was like death. It's a good resource (FARLEY GO BUY THIS FOR YOUR GIRL) but it was an awful read. Prom Night was kind of fun. I can still picture (omit name's) hair. It was so very seventies and bushy. The photographs are hilarious. I cannot forget my lime sherbet colored halter top prom dress that my mother made for me.

Speaking of hilarious. A friend sent me this picture and asked if "C" was my husband. I have to admit that it darn sure looks like him.


Book 27 is challenging. I'm ahead of my goal for the year and I've got the summer coming up. Can I hope to perhaps double my challenge and go for a hundred books this year?