Friday, August 13, 2021

 Friday, August 13, 2021

 

       When I went to bed last night, I was exhausted. I slept soundly from 10 pm to about 4 am. I should have gotten up and read, but I didn’t. I dozed on and off. I noticed I was in no pain; I hadn’t had any all night. I couldn’t remember if I had any the night before. The work I did with the acupuncture pen the other night made a big difference.

     I used that pen where no physical therapist or acupuncturist would dare to go. No, not there -the groin muscle right next to there. This muscle is connected to the muscle that Mike pulled, otherwise known as Michael’s muscle. I applied the acupuncture pen to the upper leg and the groin muscles. It stopped the pain. Walking was easier. I haven’t been inclined to use it since. No pain.

      Sixth grade D didn’t sign into our Zoom meeting at 8:30 as scheduled. I called but got no answer. He was on almost immediately. Mom said she forgot. We rescheduled for ten because I had a nine am appointment.

   That appointment was my regular one with Shelly. I dealt with the sadness I felt about my family. I am someone who needs connections. In Blueprint, Christakis talks about different types of people. Those who are always on the periphery of a group, those who act as a hub with everyone radiating out from them, and those who serve as a hub and connect all those they are connected with to each other. I fall into the last category.  

    My sister-in-law commented that people who otherwise have no connection to each other wind up in conversation through me. I wasn’t conscious of it before that day; I did it without awareness. Since then, I have been more aware of my actions. Walking through my neighborhood each morning, I run into other walkers. I learn their names. Over time I may even learn more about them and have ongoing conversations. More importantly, I make a point of introducing people to each other. Sometimes those connections pay off for people. The payoff for me is a sense of a cohesive neighborhood where people know and care about each other. I need that. I don’t believe anyone is hurt by it. There are a few people I never speak to other than to wave a brief hello. Is it because they send out a leave-me-alone message or because I see something I don’t like in them? I think it’s the former.

       When Mike and I lived in Princeton, we, on my initiation, worked on family cohesiveness. We always included everyone. Their willingness to be included wasn’t as enthusiastic. Some complain about the lack of cohesiveness of our extended family, but they also make no effort to develop it. Quite to the contrary, they think about their immediately family exclusively. All very sad for me. 

       I also worked a little on the way I speak. Many know me as a generous, compassionate, empathetic person, but I doubt anyone thinks of me as gentle. I have an aversion to gentleness. I don’t associate with good qualities. My mother was only gentle when she gently sat me down to tell me that no one liked me; she was the only one who loved or cared about me. And, of course, she was only telling me that for my sake. Wow! How’s that for the perfect mind fuck. She really believed what she was saying, but don’t most abusers. 

      My father was gentle. Often, I could trust his gentleness. But there were problems with him too. He was playing a formative role beyond the parental one. Like a stage mother, he was grooming me for a role that addressed his needs more than mine. They both taught me that gentleness was a danger sign. I know exactly why I am the way I am. I remember saying it out loud when I was in my twenties. I wanted people to see me coming so they could defend themselves. I can appreciate that some don’t see me that way. 

      I have been in groups where my reception is mixed. Someone come up and tell me that I was the only person they felt was loving and trustworthy in the group. Then someone else will declare me a monster. I had that situation once where some young man walked up to the woman I knew to compliment her on being nothing like me. No one would want to marry me. Of course, the irony was that she was unable to participate in a functional marriage, and I was the one who was happily married. The irony wasn’t wasted on me. Many people who criticize me are precisely those who can’t form satisfying bonds with another adult. They are all victims, perpetual victims who cannot set their boundaries and expect others to figure them out and take care of them. You’d think I’d get the hint and steer clear of them. Some I have. Their rejecting me still leaves me sad. I would love to work it out, but they’re not interested in negotiating their boundaries. 

      I had sixth grade D at 10. We started with simple sentences using sight words to practice automaticity. Because his mother had said he had difficulty applying phonics, I covered that. She had mentioned that he couldn’t read VCe words. I started with a list like that. He said he had that pattern under his belt. I wrote the word brake, and he read barked. Hmmm! Anyone besides me see a problem? Again, I reminded him to start with the vowel. I believe good readers seek out the vowels automatically. We begin by dividing words into syllables. We guess the vowel sound from familiar patterns and then add on the initial sounds. Once he followed the recommended procedure, he could read the word correctly. I took him through a series of cat/cate contrasting the two patterns. I had him use the PDS approach; identify the vowel, blend it with the following consonant, and add the initial letters/sounds. I told him there was no research to support my theory, but I didn’t see he had anything to lose by trying it for a month and seeing how it affected him. He assured me he was following the procedure in his head even though he didn’t do it out loud. 

     Then I introduced a multi-syllable word. I showed D the PDS Phase II procedure for diving words into syllables when starting with the written word. I underlined the vowels. I told him the number of syllables was based on the number of vowel sounds, not letters. I emphasized how important it is to determine the syllables in any word when decoding it. He said he divided syllables between the consonants. I reminded him that the number of vowel sounds determined the number of syllables. Therefore, being a vowel seeker is essential. It is a significant shift for him. It will be interesting to see how it affects his reading.

     Lastly, we worked on writing the story we started on Wednesday. He had expanded his image. He included a view of a mountain to the side of the meadow. I have only had one other student whose imagination and images were that thin. I had to pull details out of him and do most of the writing. I was modeling possibilities. He said he enjoyed doing the exercise, especially using his imagination. I told him whenever he writes, he is either using his imagination or his memory. Anything can be expanded with appropriate details.

        I had a 4 pm appointment with Katie Click, my physical therapist. Amazing woman! I always look forward to working with her.  

        On my way there, I stopped off at Home Depot. I saw a YouTube ad for a toilet cleaning chemical that removes buildup. I found an employee in the cleaning aisle. He didn’t know of a chemical but handed me a Pumice Scouring Stick. It’s a pumice stick for scraping toilet bowl buildup. I made another stop at Petco to see if I could pick up Elsa’s favorite ball. The one she had was falling apart. They didn’t have anything like it. I ordered something online, three or four small balls for small dogs. Then I went to Hawaiian Rehab Services.

     My PT, Katie, spent most of our time together, having me make minor adjustments and observing me. After an hour, she taped my left heel to realign my footpad. It was a slight shift; the flesh of the heel was moved slightly to the right. Katy said this might affect the muscles in my midback that have been giving me problems recently. Katie observed that the spine curved at that point. She asked if I had an X-ray of my spine. I had, but only the lower part, not the whole spine. Katy doesn’t give exercises to do with X number of repetitions. She knows she can trust me to incorporate her suggestions into every move I make.

     On the way home, I stopped at Safeway to pick up a few items. We had a downpour as I drove over there. By the time I left the store, the rain had cleared, and the sun was out in full force. The parking lot was like a steam bath in the late afternoon light. 

    The sun set while I sat down for dinner. The last rays of the sun were still illuminating the sky. A band of red ran through what was visible of the grey sky on the horizon under a dark cloud cover. That band was streaked with waterspouts. 

         I continued watching Longmire, a Netflix TV series bought from HBO, I believe. I still think it’s wonderful. No one on the police force is psychotic or being pursued by a psychopath. I can go to sleep with no concern for nightmares.