Tag Archives: stubborn

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Print or cursive?

My father’s father was a pressman and the head pressman when he was in Knoxville, Tennessee. This is back in the lead type times, when the type had to be set before printing the newspapers. Before they moved to Knoxville, they lived in Connecticut. My father said that my grandfather helped develop the four color process for the comics. My father would get the new comic books, Superman, straight off of my grandfather’s press. Too bad those were thrown out!

I started cursive in school in about fourth grade and I did not like it. I learned, but I thought it was ugly. My father knew how to write in italics. I liked italics much more and asked him to teach me. I adapted the capital letters to make them easier and then I wrote my papers in italics when we were not allowed to print. The teachers objected but I pointed out that we weren’t allowed to print in the papers, but it did not say, “No italics.” I imagine that some teachers found me difficult.

My cursive is still stuck in about fifth grade and I almost never use it.

Meanwhile fast forward. A law is passed in Washington State that prescriptions cannot be written in cursive. However, it does not say that we have to print. The same loophole. I usually printed prescriptions anyhow, so that the pharmacist could read it. I got compliments occasionally for printing in a legible way. I didn’t spell certain medicines correctly, but the pharmacists never seemed to care about that. Now it is all by fax and since Covid started, even the controlled substances go by fax.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: print.

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Again, again

In theory Elwha is not allowed on my desk. But you can see that I’ve given in and he can use my scarf for naps when I am not using it. Sol Duc very rarely gets on the kitchen table, but Elwha won’t stay off it, especially if we have visitors. He would like to lie in the middle of the table and be admired and patted by everyone all at once. Sol Duc stays on another floor often, but sometimes she decides a visitor is interesting and she shows up. Not on the table though.

I’ve given in on the desk. But NOT the kitchen table.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: serial offender.

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Stone heart

My mind is done and unsurprised. My heart a stubborn rock.
My heart does not give up: loves where it loves. It doesn’t care
about reality or whether it is derided or mocked.
My mind moves on and kicks my heart, wondering where
this tenacity stems from. My heart is done with tears.
It agrees to new friends and joys in dance.
When my mind says forget, my heart jumps and steers
my body into a warrior fighting stance.
My mind is cynical and laughs and derides my heart.
I let them fight back and forth every day.
I cannot reach an end unless I start
to honor my feelings, the heart must hold sway.
My mind moves on, ignoring what you do.
Yet my stubborn heart remains a friend, strong and true.

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Daily Evil: O is for Ornery

OOOOOO, ornery. What a lovely word! It can be purely negative or it can be positive and joking, or it can just mean stubborn.

This is one of Helen Burling Ottaway’s self portraits. My photograph, through glass. This is 20 by 26 inches, pastel chalk, dated 1979.

I had this up in the guest room, but a guest said he felt nervous with her watching. I laughed and said, “Ok, yeah, I can see that.” I moved it. My mother always looked fierce when she was concentrating. She captures that expression very well. People often thought she was angry when she was teaching, but it’s just concentration. I could tell the difference but the students could not.

And speaking of ornery:

Sol Duc helping with the photograph. Sort of.

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Yammer

You’ve joined my silent dead: doesn’t matter
whether you speak or not. You’d like this song
and be jealous of the skills. I yammer
to my dead, the number rising strong.
At sixty I declare that I am middle aged
Mom dies at sixty-one which feels unfair.
My sister dies at forty-nine, cancer rage.
I watched them both as chemo takes their hair.
You too are dead no words across the breach.
I yammer to you daily in my head.
Agates gleam, treasure on the beach.
You refuse to look, I mourn that you act dead.
You sit stubborn in a rocking chair alone.
You don’t believe your dead will call you home.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: yammer.

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small part

there is a part of each of us
that we don’t control
a stubborn stubborn voice
inside that won’t do what we want

insisting: the person promised
we would always be friends
the person promised
so they could come back

yes, I say, but that doesn’t mean
they WILL come back
people can lie
people can refuse to change

they promised
insists that stubborn voice
which will not give up
ever

and no matter what I say
I can’t shake her

she waits
and waits

________________

For the RDP: understand.

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afraid or not?

Photo credit to Dr. W. Strang, with my camera. That is me in front of an truly amazing quartz crystal from Arkansas in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum.

I was back in the DC area with my daughter, visiting my son and future daughter in law. Hopefully after this year I won’t say future any more. This is round three after two postponements due to Covid-19.

Dr. Strang and I wanted to go to the Smithsonian but we got snowed in. The Smithsonian was closed Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. We went on Thursday. We got to the Museum of African American History and it was CLOSED. They were opening late, at one pm. It was 10:30.

We promptly diverted to the National Gallery, which opened at 11:00. We spent a good 3-4 hours there. We went back to Natural History. I worked in the shop there years ago and wanted to buy a rock. I was underwhelmed by the rocks available currently. More expensive and a lot less of them. On the other hand, I suppose there are only so many rocks.

What about fear? I chose fear for the Ragtag Daily Prompt today. I was not terribly afraid at the Smithsonian, but I was careful. After my fourth bad pneumonia last year, this time on oxygen for months, I did not want to get Covid-19. We have used fear before, but I think some words can be reused.

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On vaccination: rock stubborn

A friend in his 30s was working on my car the other day. “Are you immunized?” I ask. “No.” he says. “I wish you’d get immunized,” I say, “Also, I can’t ride in the car with you because if I get the Delta variant, I’ll probably die.” He responds, “I hate doing what other people tell me to do.” “Oh,” I say, “Oppositional defiant, just like me. Fine. Don’t get the vaccine.”

Two days later I text. “Don’t get the vaccine today. Or tomorrow.”

I hear back. He got vaccinated the day I sent the text. I don’t know if it was me saying don’t do it, or me getting out of the car and staying a good ten feet away after that. Please don’t kill me, not today, ok?

Maybe we should try it nation wide. “DON’T GET VACCINATED. DON’T DO IT TODAY. OR TOMORROW.”

Unvaccinated thirty year olds are getting really sick and getting intubated and dying. One in five hospitals in the US now is 95% full, on divert. I used to heave a sigh of relief when I was in residency and we were on divert. That meant no admissions until beds opened back up. We are full. But one in five is really bad. Virginia Mason in Seattle is on divert. Our rural county has more covid infections than we’ve had the whole time, mostly unvaccinated. About 15% vaccinated. We are starting to see the breakthrough infections, around 8 months after the vaccine. Makes sense, because the vaccine riles up the immune system for 8 months and then quiets down. I am 8 months out, no immune system, high bleeping risk. The head of the heart lung bypass part of Virgina Mason was interviewed. “We have been full for ten months (?or a year) and have turned away over 150 patients.” So heart lung bypass could save lives in covid. But it takes round the clock two ICU nurses and the ICU nurses are burning out, quitting, dying. If they get too tired, their immune systems don’t work, they are more at risk for covid and they could die. The nurses and the doctors KNOW this. So…. how many unimmunized people are you willing to die for? Just curious.

Kids have been at home, quarantined, small groups. So then they started school or daycare or even a few more playdates and hello: when you get them together, they trade viruses. There is an outbreak of RSV and other viruses. RSV won’t kill most kids but some babies need the hospital and it can kill premies. And the beds, remember, are full.

Now the AAFP is calling for emergency authorization for kids age 2-11 to get the vaccine. Because they are dying too and there bloody won’t be room in the hospitals at this rate. Or well, you can build a tent, but if you don’t have any ICU nurses, the tent is not too helpful.

For the governors saying “No mask mandate at school,” yeah, well, I think they should refuse the vaccine and refuse treatment and refuse intubation and refuse oxygen.

Meanwhile, I am hiding under the bed. Roll up the sidewalks, lock the doors, I am sorry not to be useful but I am not useful dead. I could telemedicine if our area gets shorthanded enough. I suppose I should call the hospital and say that. They aren’t that desperate… yet. We have four ventilators last I checked. And 32,000 people in the county and we are the only hospital. Bummer.

I am in a physician mothers Facebook group. The stories are getting grimmer and grimmer. A physician put up the list of hospitals she called to try to transfer a patient: over 30. All no. Another is in North Carolina and got a call from Texas to transfer a patient. But… they were on divert. No.

Take care. Don’t get your immunization if you are against it. Whatever.