Friday, March 13, 2026

Tuesday, February 28, 2023

 Tuesday, February 28, 2023

Melissa is a doctor. I told her about my stress test. I thought the doctor prescribed a chemical stressor instead of the treadmill because of my age. Not at all. The chemical stressor is more efficient and safer regardless of age. A doctor has to be present during the stressing part of the stress. He must observe the patient's response and be prepared to intervene medically. The doctor was present for about five minutes. The technician inserted the chemical stressor into the intravenous line when he arrived. My heart reached the maximum rate. The doctor saw I was okay and left.  

    Had I been on a treadmill walking as fast as I could on the steepest incline I could handle, it might have taken fifteen minutes to reach that rate. Moreover, my lungs or calf muscles might have given out before my heart got its maximum rate. The good doctor might have had to linger at my side for half an hour. Not a very efficient use of his time.

     I also thought the technician messed up my test. I told her he took my initial blood pressure when I wasn't most relaxed. It was unusually high for me, 147/81. The doctor said there had been little change between the initial take of my blood pressure and the one during the stressing. I thought that meant my test would be invalid. Melissa explained that they took the initial test to check that my blood pressure wasn't too high to safely administer the stressing chemical into my system. They don't administer the chemical stressor if the blood pressure is 180/ 100. The patient can suffer a heart attack during the procedure.

      I came home, ate something, and took a three-hour nap.

    I thought I had an appointment with siblings first grade Iz and third grade J. When I contacted their mom after sending the Zoom invite, and there was no response, she told me we needed to meet on Thursday.

Monday, February 27, 2023

 Monday, February 27, 2023

  I woke up before my 5:30 alarm went off. I never get up then, but it reminds me to finish my in-bed exercises. I was done with them and ready to get up, but I didn't. I didn't have anything unpleasant to face. Getting up was better than lying there. I was torturing myself by staying in bed. Why do I do that to myself? Why do any of us do things like that?

   After being plugged in the whole night, my iPhone was only 45% charged. I need to find out what the problem is. If it's a dying battery, I won't be happy. I still need to finish paying off the phone. I hope there's another explanation.    

     I called the dentist's office on my walk. There was a swelling on an upper right tooth. It should be taken care of before I get fitted for my dental implants and bridge. Susan said to come in, and the doctor would fit me in as he could. I started preparing for my trip to the dentist's office when I got home from my walk.  

    I packed my computer to work on my updates and had enough food and water for most of the day. I had to figure I would be sitting there until I had to leave for my rehab appointment at 10:15. If the dentist didn't get to me before 9:45, I would come back after I was done with the PT appointment and sit there until I had to leave for my two pm appointment with Adolescent D.

   I packed the collected cardboard into my car for drop off at the transfer station, my two bags with food and my computer, and headed out. I arrived before nine am. I took out my laptop and got to work. Dr. Kris came to get me within fifteen minutes. He poked around in my mouth. When he hit one spot, I yelped. He was surprised; I was surprised. I hadn't expected it to hurt that much. He told me I had an ulcer. The treatment for it was salt rinses. Done. I knew what to do and left.

   I made a pit stop before I left. Many offices here do not have their own bathrooms. There will be a single set of bathrooms for a whole strip mall. In this case, the whole second floor of a good-sized building. The employees use these bathrooms as well as the visitors. We don't have a sewage system on the Big Island. We have septic tanks and cesspools. Everything has to be dug into hard rock.

   There was no point in going home after I visited the dentist. The drive home would be fifteen minutes. I would have had to turn around shortly and drive half an hour back into town to make my rehab appointment. I thought of a place I could sit and type- the church lanai, a shaded area where I sit for Sunday mass. Even if the church was locked up, the benches would always be there, and I would have access to a bathroom.

    I was surprised to see all the doors of the church were open. The side walls of the church are glass sliding doors. When fully open, fourteen feet of three twenty-foot stretches on both sides of the church are open-air. It's very Hawaiian. It is hot and humid here. Some churches here can't be closed off at all. It's how the native Hawaiians built their homes.

      I settled into a bench on the south lanai, pulled out my computer, and got to work typing up the morning's events. I was concerned that someone I didn't know would come along and tell me to scram. No one did. 

  Fr Lio walked by. He waved to me while he spoke on the phone. Rather than walking away, he came back to talk to me. I told him the wedges were ready to attach the gravestones, but there was no rush. Lord knows I haven't been rushing. I had to wait until everything felt right. After looking at the wedges for the third time yesterday, I'm satisfied they don't look like dirty cement. They're darker and have a sheen to them. I will be okay with them.

    Fr. Lio said he wouldn't be doing them. Ben would do them. I had no idea who Ben is. Is he an employee or a volunteer? Not that it makes any difference.

    It was time to leave for my rehab appointment. I demonstrated my new, improved walk for Katie. She was duly impressed. She said I walked so fast, it was almost a run. I told her about the pain I had under my left ribs. I discovered a tender spot there in my twenties. It usually only bothers me if I press on it. I knew the cause of the tenderness.

   When I was ten, I tripped on a rock and lunged forward. I saw an old-fashioned tent stake, a fat piece of wood driven into the ground, coming up toward my chest. I was afraid if I fell on it, it would strike my heart, and I would be killed. I took enough steps so my upper chest was no longer in danger. However, I didn't avoid it; it hit my left rib cage. I thought, "You're dead." And then I thought, "Thank God it's over." That's not a great thought for a ten-year-old to have. If I'm right about the source of this physical pain, it's been a problem for seventy-two years.

   Katie looked at it and said it was fibrotic, a sign of prolonged inflammation. Since I saw her last, she had taken a course in the lymphatic system. She recognized something called 'orange peel skin," which is symptomatic of a problem. She did some manipulation on the spot. She also applied thin strips of KT tape in an asterisk pattern. We made our next appointment two weeks ahead.

    I left and headed for Longs. I had taken most of their available Hersey's kisses on Sunday. I wanted to see if they had restocked the shelf. It was empty, but it was worthwhile asking. I found a clerk in the front of the store. She checked and finally conceded that she didn't know but would ask someone. I heard an announcement for someone to come to aisle ten. I wondered about it since it came right on the heels of my request. I was in aisle sixteen. No one came.

   I finally walked to the front of the store and asked the lady what was happening. She was talking to another woman. The second woman said she went to aisle ten, but I wasn't there. I explained I was in aisle 16. The other woman said she didn't know where someone was. I am going to assume the poor woman was very inexperienced.

   My next stop was at the Goodwill donation center. I only had two items to drop off: the giant Lego blocks for young children and a picture mat. I bought the mat at Christine's suggestion. I love viewing landscapes through a frame, a window, or a picture frame. She suggested I buy a mat and tape it to my lanai screen, creating a framed view. The mat wound up being too small for what I wanted. I realized I could make a frame with masking tape and have it any size I wanted. I didn't need the mat.

  My last stop before home was at the transfer station to drop off the cardboard for recycling. We can only recycle glass, cardboard, and brown paper bags since the Chinese have refused to take our trash. Then, it was home for a nap, a long one.

   When I met with Adolescent D at two pm., we applied Phase I to the text of his book, Investing for Young Adults. I started modeling. Then, I found a way to engage him.

     In Phase I, you start with the spoken word without seeing the letters. First, you identify the number of syllables; then, you identify the sounds (phonemes) within each syllable. I started just asking what a sound might be and leaving a pause. The hope is that his mind rushes in to fill the void left by my silence. Today, I switched it up a bit; I asked him to signal when his mind had given him a sound. He didn't have to tell me what it was or if he was correct, just if his mind produced anything.

   I asked him to tap on something to signal he had heard something. I heard nothing. We tried to have him clap his hands. I still heard nothing. Then I tapped on my end to see if he could hear it. He heard nothing. Mics must be set to filter out miscellaneous sounds. We settled on having him say yes when he heard a sound in his head.

  At the end of the class, D said, "This is more engaging!" Wow! This is the first time he has said something positive about the lessons. I was wondering at the time if it was the exercise or the strategy I used to ensure he was participating.

  The advantage of the approach I use to teach phonics is it involves discovery and problem-solving. The disadvantage is you discover all sorts of anomalies in pronunciation. When analyzing the sounds in the word from, D said the first sound was a /v/.

       My first reaction was to tell him he was wrong. Then I thought about it. He's not entirely wrong. As our mouths change from the unvoiced /f/ to the voiced /r/, there is a nanosecond when that /f/ becomes a /v/. Much of what we learn falls in the "The Emperor's New Clothes" category. We are told what to pay attention to and what to ignore. Many students who are disabled, rather than hearing too little, hear too much. They perceive subtleties that the rest of us have learned to ignore. Why do they do this? Here's a theory: they're not as good at pattern recognition.  

    The weather forecast said it would rain between eleven and one pm. I planned to spray weeds with vinegar after my session with D. It hadn't rained all day. I went out to spray. It started to drizzle. Then it poured. I gave up.

  I had a session with second-grade M at four. She had a ruler. We discussed the difference between inches and centimeters. She was adept at using the ruler to measure things, although she said she had never used one before. The only problem she encountered was lining up the ruler's zero edge with the object's edge. We'll do reading comprehension next time.


Sunday, February 26, 2023

 Sunday, February 26, 2023

 I woke up several times during the night. At four-thirty, I was up for a while. I started my in-bed stretching exercises. I had them all done before the alarm went off at sixty-thirty. I had to be ready for church today.

    I was dressed and ready to go with some time to spare when I remembered I wanted to get a load of laundry in before I left. We were promised a rain-free day. My plans were for laundry and spraying the garden with vinegar to kill weeds. I always hang my laundry up on the line to dry. If I use the dryer one hour a year, that's high.

   On my walk this morning, I timed my steps. 100 steps a minute is the minimum for a healthy walk. I hit closer to 120.  One hundred and thirty is my limit of fast walking up and 15-20 % incline. I have been stuck at that number for a while.

    I left for church in plenty of time, but the library parking lot was full again. I knew church attendance had improved, but this was incredible. I found one parking spot in the top lot. I got the Costco-sized package of diapers out of the trunk. They seemed heavier than the two packages I had carried before. A man and his young son walked before me. I would have asked him for help, but he looked like a fire plug. I didn't think he could do much better than I could. I placed the box on my head. That was a little better.

    When I got to the steps leading up to the church door, I called up to the greeters to send someone down to get the box. The fireplug turned around, saw me, and came down to get it. He had no problems. I misjudged him.

    There were no folding chairs out on the church lanai today. I wondered what had happened. They're usually out in anticipation of the Sunday school classes for the children. I was supposed to talk to the parents today after mass. It looked like there wasn't going to be a class after all.  

   After mass, I went inside the church to find Margaret, who ran the classes. She was the school principal. She was nowhere to be seen. Instead, another parishioner was announcing a rosary recitation for the children. I asked her if she knew where Margaret was. No. Okay. There would definitely be no classes today. I went to the back of the church and out the door to grab a second half-donut provided by the hospitality committee.

    I was starting down the front stairs, preparing to leave after mass when I remembered I wanted to look at the gravestones again. I wanted to see if the wedges seemed as bad as I thought they did. I walked through the church to get to the far entrance to the cemetery. As I entered, Margaret was instructing the kids in front of the church. There weren't many gathered there. She was ushering them out the door. A few adults were left sitting there. I wanted to speak to the adults to offer tutoring for their children. So many have fallen behind due to Covid.

   Only one woman was interested in tutoring for her grandchild. She didn't have a piece of paper to write my number down or her phone. I called her number and left my information. A man cocked his head, signaling interest. I asked him. He said No, He homeschooled. That certainly doesn't mean his child or children were on grade level. I realized afterward that I hadn't given my credentials as a teacher, just as a human being. I told them I was Deacon Mike's widow. That wouldn't guarantee I was a good teacher.

   On the way home, I stopped at Long's to buy a mango and check for Hersey's. The Hersey's were on sale, three dollars off. I grabbed four bags of kisses and five of the nuggets. I went to check their produce. Long's used to have a good selection of locally grown food. There wasn't much today, no mangos. At check out, I realized the nuggets weren't with almonds. I only like them with almonds. I had already scanned two of the almond-free packages. I needed a clerk to remove them from my tab. Then, I headed to Ace Hardware.

    I needed 30% vinegar for the weeding chore I planned for today. I only had one gallon left. Ace, as amazing as it often is, only had the liter-sized container. Not worth it for me. On the way home, I stopped at Home Depot. They're often out of it too. Today, I was in luck. I saw five containers on the lowest shelf. With my improved range of motion, I could stoop low enough to get three containers after my hip replacement.  

    My next stop was home. Half a mile up Ka'imanani, raindrops started falling. It wasn't supposed to rain either today or tomorrow. That's why I did my laundry this morning. It was pouring when I got to the turn-off at Amaama. It was one of those downpours that soaks you the moment you step out into it. After I got home, I sat in the car waiting for a let-up. Well, so much for my plans for the day. I decided to nap.

     I slept deeply. I have no idea why I needed that sleep. As I woke up, Elsa jumped on me. She does that. She waits until I'm just surfacing to come to me. She wants me to rub her belly. Can't do that when I'm sound asleep. I pet her a little and then stopped. She curled up on my chest and fell asleep herself. Those are precious moments. I made our time together last as long as possible before Mother Nature insisted I get up. I had slept over two hours. Where does this sleep come from? I wish I could pass some of it off to my friends and family who have trouble sleeping.

   I had a text from second-grade M's mother asking if I could meet with M earlier than four pm. It was late to get the message; was it too late? I called. They were eating a late lunch and would call when they were ready.

   In the meantime, I got a call from the woman from church who said she wanted tutoring help for her grandchild. Holy cow! I was surprised if she followed up. Not only did she follow up, she followed up immediately. Very impressive. She asked me how much I charged. I told her I was prepared to do it for free. No, she could pay. Wow! Again.

    I didn't have time for a long conversation because I was expecting a call from M's mother. I finally called her at 3:30. "We are just heading for the car now."  M's teacher asked me to work with her on measurement. It was not a suitable topic for a moving car. Besides, I hate working with kids in moving cars with their whole family sitting there. 

    I called back the woman from the church. She has custody of her granddaughter; the girl is with her mother twice weekly. I didn't ask what the deal was. It was probably something to do with drugs. In the meantime, I got to work with the girl.

   The rain finally stopped. I prepared to take my clothes out of the washing machine and hang them up. Some rain doesn't prevent the clothes from drying in intense sun. However, the downpours we've been having are too much. For the first time since I moved here, I put a load fresh from the washing machine into the dryer.   


Saturday, February 25, 2023

Saturday, February 25, 2023  

 

   I was up before eight but not much before. Elsa ran for the kitchen. Having fed her once before we walked, she now expects it each time. She is too smart for my good. Do something once she prefers, and she remembers forever. 

   Once, Scott pulled a new ball from the basket on the hall table. Now each time he walks near the table, Elsa's there, paws up, asking for another ball. 

   While she learns something quickly, getting her to use the doggie door has taken time. Today was a small breakthrough. While she ran for the kitchen and the promise of food, I walked to the doggie door and called her. She came and went right out the door. I didn't have to do anything else.  

    Before we went for our walk, I turned off my Apple computer. I looked for some old files yesterday and couldn't find them. The iCloud drive was gone, and with it, all my old files. When I got home and turned on the computer, there they were.

   I had Mama K's crew at nine am. Twin E read through a story we had read before but hadn't in a couple of sessions. I had moved on to another one. She aced it- except for two words. She knocked my socks off. She is making more progress than I could have hoped for. 

   The Jerry Johns reading selections for first grade looked easier than anything Twin E had been reading. Is she on a second-grade level? Wow! That would be fantastic. The only problem is Twin E is way behind her. It's hard to have that kind of difference with a classmate, no less an identical twin. 

    Twin E had been happy working on reciting the alphabet in our last session. I asked her if she wanted to do that today. Yes. While teaching her the alphabet and the vowel letters, I also teach chunking.

    When fourth-grade K came on Zoom, he seemed in a bad mood. I asked him how he felt about working with me today. I acknowledge moods. It works better if I accept someone's feelings. He said he wanted to go first. Okay. 

    I asked if he needed help with mixed numbers, which we covered last time. Nope. Great. His teacher had yet to assign a new writing project. I worked on reading comprehension. He did so well that I bumped him up. It was too high. He could have figured it out, but he panicked. That will be our next project, dealing with his fear. He denied he felt fear. When I asked him if his heart was racing, he said yes. That is fear. He's a bright boy. He will ace his studies if I can get him over this hump.

  Judy called. She asked if I had been there for the parish center's blessing. Did I know who was there? Yes. The Clintons. She had the whole story about why they were there. The name of the parish center is The Grace Center. It is named after the disabled daughter of a wealthy couple, devoted Catholics, and frequent visitors to the Big Island. They contributed one million dollars to the project in exchange for naming the center after their daughter, The Grace Center. They have put a lot of money into finding a cure for their daughter's condition. She is twelve now and confined to a wheelchair. Judy brought her disabled grandson to the event. She showed him to the couple. The husband knew of a group researching FoxG1, the boy's disability. 

   Back to the Clintons: The girl's father is a good friend of the Clintons. He worked for Clinton when he was president. He was also friends with Chelsea, who is on the board of directors of the Grace Science Foundation, devoted to finding cures for rare birth diseases. Matt Wilsey, Grace's father and cofounder of the foundation, was also on Clinton's team when he was in office. 

Friday, February 24, 2023

 Friday, February 24, 2023

 I slept in till 8 am. I stood by the doggie door and called Elsa. She came and went out. This was a first. Before, I had to haul her to the door myself.

   I fed Elsa before we walked. It was too late to ask her to wait until we got back. I'd been challenging myself by walking faster up hills, not for long distances but on pretty steep hills. Some of the slopes here may be sharp at 40%. I have no way to measure them accurately. I walk as quickly as I can. I complete 130 steps at that pace. It isn't my breath that gives out; it's my calves.

    I had an appointment with my life coach at 10 am. I knew what I wanted to work on. I thought it was just my discomfort when people didn't get me and thought only the worst of me. Several people in my life choose to view me that way. No matter what I do, it's interpreted negatively. If I'm kind to someone, I'm being manipulative. They always see me as sinister. As I worked, my upset changed to terror.  

   We're all angry at differences. Some of us are better at not showing it. And some are genuinely better at not being angry. Some accomplish it by feeling sorry for others for not being on the right side of everything. That's denigrating the other person's point of view and elevating their own. That is just another way of being angry. Some turn away and repress the anger, thinking, "What can you expect." Some have come to peace with differences. I know I had moments like that with Mike. I hope he achieved that with me, for his sake as much as mine.  

    There were things he did that just tickled me. Maybe they were his foibles. Perhaps I'm fooling myself. I don't know how to categorize my response. They felt loving and delightful. He was my funny Valentine. That doesn't sound as good as I thought it did before. I know I didn't feel angry. I felt full of love. But of course, it was for something he did wrong, like not turning off the stove burners or closing the refrigerator door. There were also things he did wrong I didn't find funny, but I also wasn't mad at him, or not very mad. He committed social faux pas. I could see the reaction of others but felt neither anger nor fear. I was just prepared to leap at anyone's throat who might hurt him. How does one categorize all those emotions?

   My calendar said I had an appointment with my chiropractor at 12:15. I left in time. I called her cell phone and the office number to check because it was a weird time for us to have an appointment. She got back to me when I was halfway there. She didn't have me down for today. I turned around the first chance I got and headed back home.

   I got in some steps, some writing, and some sleep before my appointment with Adolescent D at two. When I asked him how he was doing, he said great. I had never heard him say that before. When I asked why, he downgraded it to good. When I pushed more, he downgraded to okay. He was in bed, sick as a dog with a respiratory infection as it wound up. I suggested we work in a way that puts less strain on him. I would do all the work, modeling it, and he would listen and observe.

   We started with the letter tracing exercise, which has enormously impacted his handwriting. I opened the digital version of the book we were reading on my Apple computer. It left me free to use the screen share mode on Zoom on the tablet without going back and forth.  

    I wrote a sentence from the book and then decoded the word, going through the process of identifying the vowel letters, identifying which vowel letters represented vowel sounds, and dividing words into syllables. I let D tell me where to divide them. Then I sounded them out, following the phonics rules for the type of syllables, and blended all the sounds and the syllables. I gave him the opportunity to figure out what the word really was if I didn't produce the 'correct' pronunciation right away. He said he found this process fun. Some of it was watching me struggle to figure things out. Why not? It's fun to watch people figure things out. That's what most storytelling is about, watching how the main character deals with a problem. That's what most cop shows are about. Does anyone like mystery stories? We like to watch people deal with challenges.  

    I also talked about my belief that having students watch me struggle with something is the best kind of teaching. I am modeling the learning process. I am modeling the fun of it. I don't feel humiliated when something unexpected comes up or I make a mistake. Why should I? What human being gets everything right?

   When I got my teacher training in the 1960s, we were taught, "Never let a student catch you not knowing an answer. They'll lose respect for you." Is it any wonder why people are so twisted out of shape now? Everyone has to have the 'right' answer or be a loser. How can we expect people to love learning if they aren't uncomfortable making errors?

   When I started using this modeling method to teach word recognition many years ago, I worked with three difficult girls in an inner-city church school. The only staff was me, another teacher, who was also the principal, and a school secretary. That's it. These three girls saw me because they all had trouble reading. I met with them three times a week for twenty minutes at a time. They didn't read for me the whole year. I would stand in front of the room and ask, "What is the first sound in the word THE?" They wouldn't answer. I gave the answer and then asked, "What letters make the /th/ sound?" Again, there was no answer. I wrote TH on the board. We went through whole sentences that way for every class that year.

  The other teacher told me she saw a difference. The child study team told me the girl, classified as special education, had made significant progress. But I never heard her read.

   All three left the school the following year. I ran into the mother of one of the girls. She told me that her daughter had been told by the public school she would never learn to read. She was now taking GED courses. Even I was impressed. This method works.

   I didn't use the modeling method with D before. His ego would have assumed I was doing it because he was stupid. Now, he doesn't feel that way anymore. He can handle the basics. Today, he was particularly open because he was sick. He could accept my modeling because he needed to rest. I suggested we alternate between Phase I and II of the reading process in future sessions. In Phase I, I say the word, and we figure out the sounds. In Phase II, we start with the written word and figure out what the word is. This is going to be interesting.

   The advantage of modeling is reduced stress for the student. The advantage of reduced stress is it makes the student more open to learning. Excessive stress reduces a student's ability to focus and learn. Fear puts the mind in an altered state, which interferes with learning to read. If the student is relaxed, they can invest more mental energy into the activity.

   Yvette came up. She had some news about someone I knew, our old mail carrier. Doug had been out for a year, using up his sick time. The working conditions in the post office are generally not good; at the post office where Doug worked, it was particularly bad. 

   Josh ran into Doug as he left the building. He said, "I just retired." It was also his fiftieth birthday. He went to Walmart and suffered a fatal heart attack. His wife was also a carrier. She was devastated. They had made plans for their lives. Fifty is very young to die. Worse yet, because he filed his retirement papers before he died, she would receive less widow's benefits than if he died before he filed his papers. The situation is painful.

   If that wasn't enough bad news, B called this evening. He had a long talk with his Hanai granddaughter. She told him she was being bullied at school. Groups of Micronesian students gang up on single kids. A cousin of hers was severely beaten. His face was swollen. When her father intervened, one of the kids hit him with a stick. The school knows what's going on. The police know what's going on. B said the police won't do anything because they're minors. His granddaughter wants to drop out of school or go to another one. The other school won't let her in "because she is being bullied." That doesn't sound right. They possibly think she is one of the bullies. Also, she will need a ride to school. Her mother says she can't do it. She is overwhelmed. Parents complained to the school. His granddaughter had complained to her teachers. They had spoken to the girls, but nothing had changed.

     As B and I talked, I saw Lutz walking up the street. He is an information junky. If anyone knew what to do, he would. I told B I would call back later. Lutz said they had to bring in the Feds. The state schools get federal funds. It is their job to make sure biased bullying doesn't happen. If they don't do something, the feds will take over the school. This happened on this side of the island many years ago. It was the Hawaiians who were beating up haoles, white people. Now it is Micronesians beating up Hawaiians, maybe everyone. The feds were called in for Kealakehe. The feds took over the school for three years until the situation was righted. I don't know if they can accomplish that in time for B's granddaughter.


Thursday, February 23, 2023

 Thursday, February 23, 2023

   Yvette and I did our morning walk with our dogs together. I wove back and forth; she went straight. She was anxious to get home early because she had to set up for the driveway yoga class. She sets out the mats, blocks, and straps for people to use.

    I finally had my appointment with the dentist to get molds made for my posts and bridge. I had to take an antibiotic an hour before I went. I remembered. The dentist's assistant is his wife. They sometimes drop their professional demeanor and speak to each other only as a husband and wife would. He asked where she had put something in a slightly accusing tone. She sniped back, "It's right there on the tray," which it was. He turned to me and commented," You know the best way to get along with your wife is to always say, "Yes, dear."  I've heard that comment many times. It did feel good when Mike said yes. I gave the comment some thought.

  Saying," Yes, dear," was what a woman was expected to say to a man at all times until my generation, post WWII. I was told the way to get a man to do something your way was to convince him it was his idea and then say, "Yes, dear." Women weren't allowed to make proposals. There have always been some women who spoke up, but it was not the norm. It still isn't in many cultures.

  I stopped at Farm and Garden. The leaves on my crepe bushes were turning brown and falling off. I showed them a picture. They recommended an insecticide. My next stop was Costco. I had a long list of items to buy.  

I got home by 11:15. I had planned to attend the new parish center blessing, but it would be too late now. I still had to unload the groceries and get them into the frig.

  My friend Melissa called later in the afternoon. Did I attend the blessing? I explained the snafu in my schedule. Did I know the Clintons were there, as well as Chelsea with two of her children? Melissa wasn't quite sure why they were there.

   I got an email from second-grade M's teacher praising M's accomplishments and mine. I appreciate it so much when I get positive feedback.

Hi Betty,

Yes! M has done great on the 3-digit addition and subtraction units! She has been a leader demonstrating for the class and is so proud and confident. Your help has been key! 

Wednesday, February 22,2023

Wednesday, February 22,2023

 

I got up late this morning, almost 8 am. I fed Elsa before I went out. I went through the house checking for accidents. I found some throw-up on the library rug but nothing else. Did she use the doggie door or hold on? She goes to the bathroom door to be let out when I'm around. I walk over to the doggie door and call her. She comes immediately and goes out without hesitation. I'm waiting for the day I can be sure she does that alone.

   I went to mass for Ash Wednesday. I thought attendance would be light. I didn't think of parking in the library parking lot. Boy, did I have it wrong! The church parking lot was jammed. I had to park on the grass in front of the church. I thought I would sit inside the church instead of the outside lanai. On days when attendance is light, all the doors are open. This doesn't mean just the front door; the church's side walls at door height are all glass sliding doors. When they're open, there's no air conditioning. The church is at a bearable temperature, cooled by the island breezes.

   I saw a few people I hadn't seen in an age. One was a therapist Yvette and I had gone to see. Covid interrupted our sessions. It was just as well. I didn't care for her style. When I saw her, I was struck by how beautiful she was. She had changed her hairstyle, so it was less extreme. I could focus on her face instead of her hair.

   The mass lasted much longer than I thought it would. I managed to stop at the bank to deposit a check. It wasn't crowded; I was in and out in no time. I was going to stop at Costco on the way home. If I had, I would never have made my two pm appointment with Adolescent D.

    I thought about my work with fourth-grade K in a later appointment. His teacher asked me to work with him on converting improper fractions to mixed numbers. I thought I would have to cover everything about fractions. He tends to be out of it.

    I made it home in time for my appointment with Adolescent D, but I wasn't in the best mood. We didn't do the letter tracing exercise. I forgot, and he said nothing. This set us off on the wrong foot to start out with. The letter tracing activity is soothing.

    We worked on how anxious he feels whenever someone talks about something he doesn't know. On Monday, I discussed the possible pronunciations of -ure, as in future and sure. He watched me think. He watched me explore. He was gone, braindead. I asked him to observe his feelings. He felt stressed as I continued to talk. He didn't acknowledge his brain-dead response as caused by stress. For him, it was just something that happened.

   We continued reading from D's book, Investing for Young Adults. It was a strained session. While he read many words as well as he ever had, he wrestled more with the words he missed. I was also upset with his performance. I got confused, mixing up two words. I wondered if his mental state was a reflection of mine or if mine was a reflection of his. When the clock said two thirty, he quickly said our time was up. On Monday, he was happy to go five minutes over. We were both glad to end this session. You can't have all good days.

   I signed on with Mama K's crew immediately after. I started with Twin A. She completed the first selection in Barnell Loft's third-grade book. We read it over and over until she had it perfectly. She often wants to ignore the words on the page and substitute something she thinks makes sense. It usually does, but reading accurately is essential. You can't hear something different than what the author wrote and understand what they said.

   I had twin E next. I had been working on memory issues with her. I'm kind of stuck. I don't want to make her do difficult things repeatedly and have her just experience failure. I was frustrated. We did some decoding. I asked her if she knew what the vowels were. She said, "a, o, e, and n." I wrote all the letters of the alphabet on the whiteboard to show her which ones were the vowels. Students must learn them in order. That way, they automatically recall them instead of having to rediscover them each time. She couldn't even recite the alphabet. I'm not sure Twin A can either. I've never checked. I will do so on Saturday; hopefully, I remember. I was concerned Twin E would feel bad about working on the alphabet when her sister was much more advanced in her reading. But no. She was happy to do work on her level. 

   As I was working with her, she disappeared from Zoom. I called Mama K. She reconnected her; she disappeared again almost immediately. I called Mama K again; the tablet needed to be charged. She would call me when it had enough.  

   Fourth grade K came on. I started by testing his knowledge of fractions. "If your mom buys a pizza, would you prefer to have 1/3 or 1/5?" Students who don't understand fractions say 1/5. K said 1/3. He knew what those numbers represented. I gave him an addition problem with like denominators problem. He aced that. He asked for help with mixed numbers. That was exactly what his teacher asked me to work on with him. I showed him how to solve the problem by drawing it and then using the division algorithm. He grasped it immediately. The difference in his participation was tremendous. I asked him if he understood what people had to say better. He said yes. This is a result of the comprehension activity I did on Saturday. I had him read a passage and tell me what it was about. He was off the wall, far from what the passage was about. I told him he couldn't get the information from his head; he had to get it from the page and the author's words. This may have been his problem all along. He thought he was supposed to know everything, not hear or read new information. If that's the case, he was an easy fix.    

 


Tuesday, February 21, 2023

 Tuesday, February 21, 2023

 I slept well last night, really well. Delicious. I love to sleep. I am blessed with the gift of good sleep. I considered myself very lucky.

   Elsa and I are getting in the habit of checking for lesions every morning and applying the salve. She doesn’t fight me. The same doesn’t apply to the foam. When I put that a lesion, she runs around the house. I assume it burns. 

  Once I posted the day’s blog and got another short walk in, I went down for a nap. I slept for an hour and a half. As I said, I can sleep. At 11, I got dressed and ready for the Bereavement Group. I have been avoiding it month after month. 

   I went once. I wasn’t comfortable with the leader. She ran the group like a class. She taught concepts, but no one got to talk. It was advertised as a support group. I said something to her about wanting to hear others speak. She said, “I don’t want to force people to speak.” I said, “You can create space.”  

    She did a much better job today. But I feel she is not comfortable with me. One woman said she was grateful when her husband died because if he had continued to live, it would have bankrupted her. I told everyone that I had similar feelings when Mike died. I was grateful. Had he lived, he would have had to stay in Honolulu. He had kidney failure. There is no care facility here that could have accommodated him. I couldn’t have driven him to the dialysis center three times a week. He would have hated his condition. He would have hated putting me in that position. His mind may have been compromised by the prolonged intubation and medications. He would have been so depressed. It wouldn’t have been a chance to be loving and loved. It would have been hell. And it would have depleted our funds, leaving me destitute after he died. Thank God he died when he did.  

    When we met, Mike and I had a good 20-30 %  compatibility. It was up to 80-90% by the time he died. I was happy with him; I can safely attest to that. He also said and showed others that he was happy with me. He valued me at least as much as his books. Those were the two things that had to go with him to Hawaii.

   While he was in the hospital, I kept telling him I was up for anything as long he allowed me to love him and found me funny. I repeated it over and over. I could have accepted anything if that continued to be true. The leader said usually people are grateful their partner died because they were no longer in pain. She disapproved of my being glad for my own sake. The leader may be trained and certified but is not very good. She’s not deep enough to deal with this complicated situation.  

   I stopped at the bank on my way home to deposit a check for the month from second-grade M’s father. I was going to stop at Costco. The parking lot was jammed. It must have been a welfare-check day. I thought the hell with this and went home. Costco deliveries come in today. I have a better chance of getting what I want tomorrow or Thursday. 

   At 11:30, I headed out to the Bereavement group meeting. I’ve been dreading it. I don’t think I need it. I grieve on my own, and I meet with a therapist. I really dislike the woman who runs the group. I think she is unsuited for the job. That’s a little harsh. She thinks formulaically; she’s a Hallmark card thinker. I throw wrenches into her thinking. I don’t fit a mold she approves of. I’ve seen this before. I’m willing to say how something impacts me without sounding like I’m only concerned about others. That doesn’t eliminate that concern. Many people are appalled by my blatant honesty. I say what many people feel. We lose the loved one and all they gave us; we also lose ourselves, the person we were when they were alive. It’s all about us from our perspective. This doesn’t mean we didn’t and don’t want the best for the other person and did what we could to make that happen. Many people are deeply invested in their self-image as a self-sacrificing, good person. This is a bug-a-boo for me. My mother insisted she did everything for my good. God protect me from people who only do things for my good- whether I think so or not. 

   I want people around me who are invested in the self-image as a good person, but not people who are unaware that that is in their self-interest. It’s not for me to decide if my actions benefit others. It is for them to decide if I have been successful or not. By their fruits may you know them; not by their self-claims.

 


Monday, February 20, 2023

 Monday, February 20, 2023

  I was up and out by 7 am. I started fast-paced walking while walking up a hill until my calves gave out. My breath is not a problem. The hills around here can be steep, with 20% angles. I started out with fifty consecutive steps. 

  I ran into Ann Marie, a local fifth-grade teacher, today. She is one of my walking acquaintances. I saw a lot of her when I got up at 5:30 every morning to make the 7:30 Bikram class. Today was Presidents' Day; she had off. We were both out late. 

   The teacher I spoke to yesterday works with Ann Marie. Jenn was interested in getting me to work with children in the school but not learning my method herself. I had previously told Ann Marie I had developed a method for teaching reading. She hadn't expressed interest. I didn't blame her. I was a miscellaneous woman claiming to be an effective teacher and an effective teaching method. I wouldn't bite either. But now, someone had evidence of my effectiveness. 

    I told Ann Marie the method was easy to learn and incorporate into an existing program. It could advance the reading of her best students and her poorer ones. My reading improved when I was fifty-eight and already had straight As for my master's and 760 out of 800 on the verbal section of my GRE. She expressed interest. She made sure she had my number. Having a teacher express interest did the world for my mood. I want this method to be used in schools. It kills me that I have a strategy for teaching reading that can resolve problems for many of the students who fell behind during Covid, and it's not being used.

  I signed up for Yoga Go for a month to see if I would do it. I had to pick my level. I chose Intermediate. I have a lot of experience with yoga. Boy, was I off. This is a challenging program. It's way beyond my ability. The instructor modeled an 'easy pose." Oh, yeah. I can't sit cross-legged anymore. I may never be able to do it again. It was never my strong suit to begin with. Easy pose is not so easy for me. And that's for starters. I modified the poses; I used them for strengthening exercises. Downward Dog is good for my whole body. The exercises energized me. What can be bad about that?

  I contacted my two appointments for today, asking if they would like to meet earlier in the day since there was no school. First-grade M's parents took me up on the offer. Adolescent D said he wanted to keep the appointment he had.  

  I continued working on math with second-grade M. She said her math is helping her reading. I had her read passages at a high second-grade level she had worked on long ago. Where before she needed a lot of help, now she read them easily. She needed some help with the word enormous. She had to be reminded to read each syllable separately before blending the whole word together. This procedure is only necessary when the reader has difficulty reading the word. I have to use it when encountering new words. 

  After the session with second-grade M, I went to my old-lady chair and worked on the updates. While I worked, Elsa slept wrapped around my neck. This works at this time of the year but not so much during the hot, humid months of August, September, and October.

   I met with Adolescent D at our usual time, 2 p.m. He read so well today that it felt weird to both of us. Who are you? Then, he had a problem with the word future and the -ure sound. I showed him the word sure. I teach students to think of where they have seen a spelling pattern before. They can apply what they know to the new situation if they can recall a word. I wrote the word sure. He knew that word, but it became clear there were various ways to pronounce that final syllable. I tried modeling. He responded so well to the tracing activity that exploring modeling in other contexts was worthwhile. 

  However, I was thrown for a loop when I explored the possible pronunciations for -ure. Here it is pronounced as /-oor/, rhyming with poor. It can be /-er/, or /-or/ in the word future. But it can also be pronounced as /your/, as in secure. I thought aloud as I worked and discovered patterns. When we went back to the text, D still couldn't read the word secured. I asked if he had heard anything I said. He said no. He blanks when he gets scared. He gets scared when presented with information he doesn't already know.  

  I have seen the pattern repeatedly. It makes him difficult to teach. His mother said he was that way at a very young age. He didn't want to do anything he didn't already know how to do. D said that's how anyone feels when faced with something they don't know. "No."

  Everyone responds with increased spinning, but not everyone responds with fear.


Sunday, February 19, 2023

 Sunday, February 19, 2023    

 Boy, was this a bad night's sleep! I could not fall asleep. This happens rarely, thank God. I don't fight a night like this as I did during my last three years of high school after my father died, and I was left to deal with my mother alone. There are two reasons for that. First, I didn't have to worry about getting up in the morning and functioning. I know I have little to do, and I can take a three-hour nap if I have to. Ah, napping. One of the great luxuries of retirement. Of course, it is also the curse of retirement. I don't have enough to do, making me feel sluggish and sometimes downright depressed. The less I have to do, the less I get done. It makes life feel like a waste.

  Everyone is commenting on how fast I'm walking. Darby chased me up the street to talk to me the other day. She said I was zigzagging back and forth across the street while she was going in a straight line, and she still had trouble getting to me.

   I got into the shower by 7:30 and finished my grooming routine by 8:15. How's that for a SPA treatment. I spent fifteen minutes on the blog post for February 19, 2022. I post a year behind. At 8:30, my alarm went off, reminding me it was time to leave for church.

   I park in the library parking lot; the library is closed on Sundays. There is usually space, and I avoid the church parking lot. Today, there wasn't a space available. I pulled into the driveway for the drop-off box. I parked my car right at the exit of the semi-circle. When I went to leave, I checked. Oh, dear. The drop-off box wasn't locked. It was available on Sundays. I guess not this Sunday.

   Right after mass, I checked the gravesite to see how I felt about the wedges. They looked like they had a black sheen to them. I thought it was time to give in and tell Fr. Lio he could attach the grave plaques with our information engraved on them onto the wedges.

  Before I returned to the library parking lot to get my car, I made a detour to a shop on Ali'i Street that sells Oofos. Mine came with a plastic contraption that shopkeepers could use to hang the shoes for display. I wasn't sure the shopkeeper could use them, but I thought it was worth a try. I hate to throw things out when it's not necessary. She was delighted to get them. Fantastic.  

   Then I headed to my car and my next stop, Long's. I needed to pick up a Monistat treatment in case the two rounds of antibiotics caused me a problem. Having a treatment on hand is a good idea, regardless. I also bought five packages of Hersey's milk chocolate kiss with whole almonds. I had a six-dollar coupon. That saved some money. 

 I shop more at Long's now that I can download discounts onto my membership card instead of having to hold on to the receipt. It also works to get me to shop at Long's instead of picking up something at Safeway.

   When I woke up from my late morning nap, first-grade Iz and third-grade J's mom called on Facetime. She introduced me to her neighbor, who teaches fifth grade at one of the local schools. She told her how well her Iz had done with my tutoring, and the teacher wanted to speak with me. First, we played what I call "Jewish geography;" we figured out all the people we both knew. Did she know Ann Marie? Yes, she was one of her colleagues teaching fifth grade. We shared a few other names. Jen was not interested in incorporating my method into her teaching; like so many other teachers, she was overwhelmed by the demands already made on them by the DOE. I understood her dilemma. I shared my frustration with her. She wanted me to tutor kids after school. That's when I have most of my current tutoring clients. Yes, I can help individual students, but my passion is getting the method out to teachers to help kids. Will everyone benefit? I doubt it. Does everyone benefit from anything? Does that have to be the promise -that it will help everyone?

   I had a session with second-grade M in the afternoon. She doesn't need help with addition and subtraction with regrouping anymore. She said she wanted to move ahead to do well when something new came up. I quickly looked up the core standard on the Hawaiian DOE site. Introducing multiplication was on it. The school introduces it differently than I do. I showed her 2 x 3. She tried to figure it out but came up with the wrong answer. I drew two sets of three, and she counted. I gave her other examples. She illustrated the problem. Done,

      Judy shared a dream she had. I had died, and Mike had survived. He got involved with another woman. She was heavy-set and abusive. Adam, Judy's thirty-year-old son, sat down and talked to Mike, telling him he didn't need to tolerate being treated that way. The woman reminded me of his mom. She was contemptuous of him. He was a male; he deserved no compassion. He had all the power as far as she was concerned. He never recovered from her abuse. It was so sad.

Saturday, February 18, 2023

 Saturday, February 18, 2023

 I had Mama K's crew this morning. Twin E started on a new passage at a low third-grade level. She still has some memory problems, but they are resolving. Her more significant issue is with her vocabulary. She didn't know what the words enormous and formerly. Where adolescent D's problem is all with word recognition, his vocabulary is impressive. Mama K's girls are way behind the eight ball.

  I continued working on automatic recall with Twin A. It's concerning that she's stuck at this level while her Twin sister is moving ahead at a good pace.  

  I met with fourth-grade K today. I often miss seeing him on many scheduled days; he's either off with his father or sound asleep. He reported he did have a new writing assignment, and his math was good enough to draw a positive comment from his teacher. The last area of reported weakness was reading comprehension. I selected a low fourth-grade passage, which should have been easy. Wow! Was I wrong! I'd seen his problem before. He didn't know when to draw from the text and when from background information. He thought he was supposed 'to know' everything.

   I developed this exercise to help students with this problem. I tell them, "I am a twelve-year-old boy with red hair." (I'm an 82-year-old woman with white hair). Then I asked them, "What did I say?" They must say, "You're a twelve-year-old boy with red hair." First, you must understand what the speaker or writer said. Then, you can judge whether it is accurate or not. You can only take in new information if you pay attention to what the other person says.

   As I thought about it today, the problem is more complex. As we read, we must judge how much to base on background information and how much on the other person's words. Today's passage was about the impact of air and dust on the Earth's atmosphere. The sky would be black without it, even when the sun was out. We would see the stars in the sky day and night. There would be no twilight. There was a sentence following the word twilight, which defined it. K not only didn't understand it. He didn't know that the sky doesn't go into complete darkness when the sun sets. He was missing background knowledge.

  I didn't walk my 10,000 steps. It was raining most of the day. It may have been 72 degrees, but it was cold and damp. A good day for a fire to get the chill out of the air, but we don't have fireplaces or indoor heating units. I bundled up, put on my winter duds from Ohio, wrapped myself in blankets, and drank warm liquids. Judy said she spent the day under the covers. Boy, are we spoiled! Two days without sunshine, and we suffer.

  Robert Wright is my dinner companion. I read a section of Why Buddhism is Right every night. Tonight, he talked about a conversation with Joseph Goldstein about detaching from our thoughts. Goldstein said to think of them as coming from someone else and not investing in them. These thoughts are not generated by our conscious minds. They come from the default brain. Wherever they come from, they are still ours. 

   Here's my problem. Some of these thoughts are valuable. They help me solve problems. They often offer up creative ideas. While the unconscious mind can offer disturbing thoughts, it can also provide good ones. Solutions to my students' problems come up unbidden. Most of the theories I have created come from that source. Aggravation also comes from that source. It is the conscious mind's job to decide what benefits the self and others. The conscious mind mediates between the unconscious and the real world. Things that might be appropriate in one context are not in another. The conscious mind is in the best position to make that final call. It gets input from the real world and the unconscious and then can say "No" to a suggestion. We are dominated by the unconscious when we're in that much-vaunted flow state. Buddhism says to detach from all thoughts emanating from the unconscious. That doesn't sound right to me. That leaves us having to rely solely on culturally generated rules. That never covers all possibilities. Those are the primary colors. Always safe but not nuanced.  


Friday, February 17, 2023

 Friday, February 17, 2023

  The February 17 post from last year included the before-and-after pictures of his handwriting that Adolescent D sent me. It took me forever to figure out how to do it. I can't remember what I did, but I finally did it. I had done a simple exercise on Zoom. I s-l-o-w-l-y form letters on the computer screen with a broad stroke while D followed the motion with his finger on his desktop. I haven't had the chance to try it with anyone else.

      I had my stress test at noon today. I left enough time to get to the Community Hospital under normal circumstances. I made it just in time because it was raining, and two road construction sites were shut down. Even if it had been a clear day, I would have faced the road closures along the way, adding time to my trip.

      I had been to the hospital several times but to visit the ER. There's parking right in front of the entrance. Time told me that I should go in there. More to the point, the tech, Tim, told me I should enter the building on that side. He left out a few helpful details.

  Tim forgot to mention it was difficult to find a parking spot. When I got there,  I discovered that I couldn't park in the ER section; it was reserved for people going to the ER. Logical. I drove around looking for a parking space. I found one lone space in an upper parking area.

     The next challenge was getting into the hospital. Mike was an inpatient there once. I had no trouble getting into the building from the upper parking lot. Now, all the doors on that side were locked, with only keycode access. An employee came out of one of the doors. I asked how to get in. She said to walk down the road and make a right for the main entrance. I did. I wound up at another dead end, another key code access-only door. I continued down the road and made another right. The main entrance was the  ER. As I was running around, I saw an attendant. I asked him if he knew where the stress test service was. Someone else had asked him earlier in the day, and because of that, he did know. It wasn't at the ER entrance. "See the Registration sign. Go in there."  

   When I got to the building, there was a door to my left and one to my right. The one to my left opened. I went in and announced I was there for a stress test. A woman directed me to the other door. "Press the button. Someone will let you in."

     When I got inside, it was an empty waiting room. Another ten steps, and there to my left were windows with one woman behind them. When I gave her my name, she said they were expecting me, concerned I had missed the appointment. I sat in the waiting room until Tim came to get me.

    Once inside the procedure room, I sat in a chair and put down my purse and water bottle. Tim inserted an intravenous needle into my arm. Into that went a dye that would help him take pictures of my heart. He explained that later, he would give me an additional chemical that would leave me feeling funny. I saw the treadmill in the corner and looked around for a camera that would take pictures of my heart as I ran.

   He directed me to go into a side room. There was a machine that looked like an open MRI. I lay down on the hard surface. He told me to put my arms over my head. I straightened my arms over my head. I was uncomfortable. I slowly bent my lower arms but held my upper arms parallel to my head. I was in that machine for ten minutes. I could relax enough to doze. As I've said repeatedly. I'm a good sleeper.

   When the picture-taking was over, he had me get up. I was stiff from lying there and somewhat dizzy. I held on to him to ensure I didn't fall as he walked me back into the main room. He had me lie down on a gurney. Again, he told me he would give me the chemical to make me feel funny. The doctor had ordered a chemically induced stress instead of allowing me to run on the treadmill. I wish she had asked me what I preferred. I only had to walk fast enough on an incline platform for a few minutes. I could have done that. While I was lying there waiting for the doctor who would observe my blood pressure once I'd been given the funny chemical, Tim took my blood pressure.

   When Dr. Roberto arrived. Tim injected the chemical into the intravenous contraption. I could feel my heart racing. I did a lot of deep breathing. When it was over, I asked what my blood pressure had been when he took it after I had just come in. The doctor said, "147/81." That's very high for me. He should have taken it before I got off the hard bed, not after a dizzy spell and the immediate threat of a peculiar feeling. Dr. Roberto commented there wasn't much difference between the first and the second blood pressure. I commented it was the first one that was abnormally high. I'm concerned the test will be invalid.  

   I was told not to have any caffeine before I came. I didn't. I had water, whole grain taco chips, and a miso soup. I didn't even have my chocolate-flavored energy drink. I checked. There is no caffeine in soy. I don't know what the outcome of the test will be. I'm afraid it will be considered invalid because I did something wrong.

   When I finished the procedure, I walked outside and around the building to ensure I got my steps in for the day. The weather had been so rainy. I was concerned about getting my 10,000 in.  

  We were supposed to be hit with a bad storm from the south. High winds and nine inches of rain. We only got half an inch. The storm passed us. That often happens. It moves on to the islands north of us.

  I had an appointment with adolescent D. He told me he did some reading independently. From what he said, he read one of those condition statements you're supposed to read before you click accept. He said he read the whole thing and thought he read it well enough to understand it. I didn't have the heart to tell him no one reads those statements. We all go right to the 'accept' button. It was still great news. This was the first time he had read a document when he didn't have to.

     I said," Okay, let's work on the book today." He said, "Let's do the letter tracing first." Very exciting. He is becoming a full partner in the learning process. He is learning to explore and try different things to see what works. If he does that, he will be okay even if I drop dead tomorrow. He will become his own best teacher. Such a relief.

   D  worked on reading the book Investing for Young Adults, which he got for Christmas. My job is to keep repeating, "Read each word; read each syllable before you put the word together. Focus on each word and each syllable. When confused, start with the vowel in the syllable, not the first letter." I made a joke about having a button I could push to repeat those words over and over. I repeat the instructions to remind him what to do. I'm also drilling concepts we've gone over and over and over, including the sound of the letter g and the possible pronunciations for the vowel team ea. He usually comes close enough to infer the correct word, even if he mispronounces words. His vocabulary is at grade level. We got through more material today than we did yesterday.

   I had six thousand steps in by 6 pm. I set out on a long walk. I aimed to get my 10,000 steps in before dinner. I was concerned it would start raining again.

 


Thursday, February 16, 2023

Thursday, February 16, 2023

We had our second yoga class this week. The first was an extra on Valentine’s Day. I think it was in remembrance of Casey’s and Jared’s wedding. Deb joined us today. She is here visiting from Seattle, which she hates. She loves the Big Island, and I mean adores it. I love living here too. All the wonderful things they say about living in Hawaii are true. Some of the terrible things they say are also true. It is unbelievably expensive. The less money you have, the more hostile this world is for you.

   I called a man to fix my irrigation system. He said he couldn’t do it and recommended someone else. He finally told me his landlord was throwing him out. If you don’t own your own home now, you are vulnerable. He said he may have to leave the island. The world is a harsh place to live unless you have a good grip on your piece of the pie.

  In a lecture of Bloom’s, he said everyone thinks they’re above average- unless you were systematically denigrated. I was systematically denigrated. My mother told me regularly that my opinion was worthless. I don’t know how I evaluate myself now. I don’t denigrate myself as I used to; others do it for me. I have enough others who think I’m just fine and valuable for my contributions to their life. I suspect I’m someone people have strong reactions to. I have no idea what to do about that.  

  I remember a time in my life when I thought my way of doing everything was the best. Then, I realized I didn’t have a perfect life. I obviously didn’t have all the answers. Even though my life got much better, I knew by that point that life was complex and everyone had their own piece of knowledge. I remain open to the possibility of other solutions. I always learn from others. The variations in life solutions must be infinite. I don’t see anyone who I think has cornered the market.

  I feel sad about the lack of interest in the teaching methods I developed. I don’t think they could help everyone. I have worked with adolescent D for two years, come next month. While he reads grade-level material with assistance, I don’t know if he could pass a second-grade reading test. He falls into potholes. He suddenly can’t remember a word or misreads one without self-correction. I wonder if he will ever read well enough to pass a basic reading test that tests for word accuracy. He should do well on one that doesn’t ask him to read orally, just tests for comprehension.

   I spoke about my sorrow to a friend. Her problems are clearly worse than mine. She has many burdens weighing on her. When I was seventeen, I told my uncle how sad I was. He said, “Compared to what many people suffer, your problems are trivial. But everyman’s sorrow is relative to his own experience.”  That was a great gift. It taught me to honor my suffering without assuming that anyone else’s is not valid. But also to understand that my grief is less devastating than someone else’s. My loss of Mike does not compare to what people are going through in war-torn countries. I have it easy. Even my loss of Mike is relatively easy. There are people whose life circumstances made their loss more devastating than mine. I was lucky on so many counts. That doesn’t mean I don’t have grief and don’t need the kind support of a friend. 


Wednesday, February 15, 2023

 Wednesday, February 15, 2023  

 The Community Hospital called. I missed my stress test appointment- again. I think I’m stressed about my stress test. They had a cancellation for Friday at noon. I took it.

   I asked Adolescent D if his mom had said anything about the improvement in his handwriting. No. When I texted the two samples, she said, ‘Improvement.” That’s it. I think she is an understated person. Me, I jump up and scream when I see significant improvement. I know not everyone is the way I am. I also know some people are uncomfortable with my unabashed enthusiasm. I’m not sure what D’s mom’s perspective is. She may not even get what a miracle this is. She possibly figures he finally made an effort. It’s weirder than that. He didn’t make an effort; it just came out that way. His brain was changed in a short time by the tracing exercise. Every OT should know about it.

   D’s reading is taking off. We’ve been working on his damaged psychological mindset when it comes to reading. He’s averse to making an effort. It’s just too painful. He finally cooperated with my directions; he focused on one word at a time and one syllable at a time. The objective was to observe his emotional reaction as he read each word. If at any point he felt overwhelmed, he was to stop, and we would work on his reaction rather than the reading. He read well enough to sound fluent. He still gets stuck in potholes. He’ll hit a word he doesn’t recognize and be brought to a halt. He has no idea how to proceed. I have to start from scratch with the directions: begin with the vowel sound, then add on any following consonant sounds; then and only then start adding on the sounds preceding the vowel sound one at a time, working backward. Once a concept is in his long-term memory, all is good. But he can’t use his conscious mind to mediate between the input from the outside world and his long-term memory.  

   Before today, I gave him a 50/50 chance of being a decent reader. As of today, I give him an 80% chance.

    I have Mama K’s crew every Wednesday. I reviewed the division and multiplication facts with third-grade K. He was moving along at a good rate. Twin E took a step backward when it came to memory. Twin A’s reading improves with each session. The Matthew Effect: the more you have, the more you get. When you only have a little, that is taken from you, too.   

   I have been more aggressive about putting myself out there. I placed an ad on Craig’s List. So far, there hasn’t even been a nibble there. I approached Margaret, the head of the Sunday Catechism classes. She put out an announcement of my availability. Not a nibble there. I asked the parents of my current students to please let people know about my availability.

  I have finally found the courage to stick my neck out more aggressively. When I read how Wittgenstein and Heidegger were rejected, I thought, “Well, I’m in good company.” Why should I expect more if the establishment rejected men now considered some of the greatest philosophers? Also, I look at how large companies advertise over and over. Why do I think I shouldn’t have to?

   I wrote the two third-grade Kealakehe teachers I worked with before Covid. One didn’t answer; the other said she was happy with the program the school had her use to teach reading and saw no need for extra help. I don’t care how good the program is; why does she think her students wouldn’t benefit from additional help from a trained teacher who she already knows is competent and successful?   It is so painful to not be wanted. Even if people don’t think I do an amazing job, I need the stimulation.

    Many people confuse all forms of categorization with ‘judgment.’ Judgment is in quotes because it has a connotation. The bad form of judgment is when people see someone as less than a person because of a trait. If you have a learning disability, you’re stupid and not valuable.

       There are contexts where that person’s handicap does disqualify them for something. I’d hate to see a person with quadriplegia be a street cop. How would that work? We are all unqualified for something. The problem is that for some people, they’re terrible people, not worthwhile at all. They shun them.

    Hypersensitive people have problems with their self-image. They probably were told repeatedly by a parent or a teacher they weren’t worthwhile. Henry Winkler is an example. He is terribly learning disabled. He couldn’t read. In an interview, I heard him say he still can’t. (He has excellent auditory recall. He memorized everyone’s part after hearing the script once.) His parents punished him because he couldn’t read. They were ashamed of him. They humiliated him. I can understand his hair stands on end if he hears the term learning disabled. I know that many people who suffered in school without anyone disparaging them still feel that way. It would be helpful if they got treatment for that wound. 

Tuesday, February 28, 2023

  Tuesday, February 28, 2023 Melissa is a doctor. I told her about my stress test. I thought the doctor prescribed a chemical stressor inste...