Monday, May 31, 2010

More and More

Today after yoga class, I went over to my dad's house to take him out, as per his request. I needed to go grocery shopping, so I decided to go up to Henry's, in Laguna Niguel, where he likes to go. But he wasn't feeling well in the car. He thought he might have to go to the bathroom.
After we started shopping, even after he went to the bathroom, his stomachache got worse and worse. I thought he might have appendicitis, and I wondered if hospice would keep him out of the hospital, even for this. So I went home with him right away, as fast as I could, and talked to the nurse, who, it turns out, is another yoga fan, though she does a different style. She knows my teachers, but goes to different ones.
I told her that VA had called me a few days ago and said he had a Urinary infection, but I figured that hospice would have tracked it and would be treating it. It turns out hospice doesn't treat that stuff either, so I requested that the nurse practitioner call it in, and we would pay for it. Next time, I will let VA pay for it, since they are willing to do it. He has chronic infections, so there probably will be a next time.
So there I was, $80. worth of food getting warm in the car (I put the fish, meat, and eggs and other perishables in their fridge there, and forgot half of it when I went home), standing between two ailing parents, my dad moaning and in pain, my mom a mere bundle of sticks, her legs drawn up to her chest, making inarticulate noises.
You could say I am having a difficult weekend, but I don't think it will be over tomorrow.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Mom is Home

This afternoon, when Richard and I came to pick up my mom and take her back to the board and care by access bus (I would ride with her, while R would drive the car back to the board and care), the aides had her in the dining room, and they were trying to shovel food in her mouth. She wouldn't eat it, and said, in Afrikaans, that she couldn't do it anymore and that it was making her sick. That's the only thing I understood because I really don't speak the language. So she's thinner than ever, starving.
I rode with her on the bus, which took a really long way around because they had to deliver someone else home first. Then, as soon as she saw the caregiver, she told him she was hungry. But when the caregiver tried to feed her yogurt, she said it was too sweet. I tried chopped up chicken from the bbq party going out in the yard, where we were enjoying a meal and conversation. But she wouldn't eat that either. She did drink some tea though, 5 tsps. with milk. That's a start.
I signed the hospice papers, and began thinking about investigating Jewish VA burials. I feel exhausted, but I did clean up a bit around our house today too.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Sick of it

Jeremy is my son, and I love him, but I'll have to confess: I'm tired of having to walk on eggshells around him! We have to be so careful not to step on his invisible toes. So we can't ask about his homework, whether he needs the textbooks he was relying on us to pay for but hasn't been able to go out and get because of the surgery.
We can't ask about setting up doctor and dental appointments because he wants to be independent, but has no means of doing this himself since he doesn't know which doctors or dentists are covered under our plan or where they are or how to contact them.
We can't even ask how he's feeling, since that, apparently, is none of our business either. He's tired of being cosseted, protected, parented, in short, and cleared out of here, according to him, because he can't live like us, in a mess. Every once in a while, he did help me clean up. So I have to be grateful for that, and I thoroughly admit to being a slob. But am I so much worse than the smelly adolescent males he lives with? I doubt it.
Every time I talk to him on the phone, I'm cruisin' for a bruisin'. I know from speaking with therapists and psychiatrists about him that I have to aim not to react, but that has led to a pattern that makes him just as mad, where he'll say something provocative, and I won't react, and that, of course, makes him crazy. So it seems I can't win. I'm sure some of it is my fault, maybe even a lot of it. I just give up.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Hard Stuff

When I went to my dad's house today to take him to the Farmer's Market, I expected him to be ready and impatient to go. But he was not. He was ill, weak and drawn, unable to go anywhere because he was tethered to oxygen and waiting for the hospice nurse to come change his catheter, since his bag had sprung a leak.
He had not eaten much breakfast (a first for him), and was visibly reduced. Still, he lit up when I suggested that I pick up a few things for him at the Farmer's Market, as well as picking up coffee ice cream at Target (that's his favorite flavor). So I got him his John Dory at the fishmonger, fresh cherries, fragrant white peaches, and a pint of Starbucks frappachino chip mocha ice cream at Target.
When I went to see mom this morning, she looked so shrunken and shriveled that I became afraid. She was picking at a blanket, and staring into space. When she saw me she said "I want to go home." I couldn't get her to eat anything. Clearly, it is too late for the date shake I envisioned. She cannot seem to ingest more than a sip of milk before she becomes nauseated.
I talked to the Speech Therapist at the nursing home, and that person begged me to take her home. They have tried everything, and nothing has worked. So after first trying to feed her chocolate pudding (she wouldn't eat it) and some more milk through a straw, I left and told the board and care I was going to bring her back on Sunday and would be putting her on hospice. The hospice nurse was already there working with my father, so it was an opportune time to arrange this.
I don't think my mother will last much longer, particularly if she cannot eat. I should probably be making funeral arrangements, but I don't know where to start.

Anniversary Events

Yesterday was R. and my 34th anniversary. I had to work, so though he stayed home to be sure Jeremy was taken care of, taking him sushi for lunch, and checking in on him at the apartment, he was mostly on his own. When I returned from work, there was a beautiful bouquet of apricot rosebuds on the table, and R. was getting ready for us to go out to eat at a restaurant in Fountain Valley I have been requesting for a year, since we were last there with Anne Gray and her yoga buddies. In the spare room, what Lou calls the cats' room, there was a big box--a book shelf for those books that are still piled up on the floor in the living room, and R. promises to put it together so I can get them up off the floor and neatly into their place.
Then we started for the restaurant. It was about 5:15, and I thought taking the freeway might be a risk. But R. claimed it wouldn't be a problem, so off we went. The freeway was packed with cars all the way, so that it took us about 15 minutes to get 1/2 mile. We were both starving by the time we got to the restaurant. I recognized the shopping center because of the Albertsons and the Vietnamese movie theater smack in the middle of it.
Xanh Bistro is a lovely, tranquil little place, whose green lettering on the sign suggests the meaning of the name, which apparently means green in Vietnamese, or so I'm told. It is run and owned by a local chef who also gives cooking lessons (and you can bet I'm going to check those out). She cooks traditional Vietnamese with a twist, so that although one can definitely recognize the foods, they have something special about them--an herb, a sauce--that is all her own.
As R. says, when he eats there, it isn't like anywhere else. The combination of items in the dishes, described meticulously in the menu, can seem a bit off-putting to the diner who is not particularly adventurous. For example, the soup we had (after first ordering the mustard green soup with chicken dumplings, which was not available) was a tomato-based hot and sour soup with pineapple--not canned pineapple, but sweet, ripe chunks, along with unidentifiable thin green disks of taro and slivers of anise-flavored basil, and a mushroom I could not identify. The flavor was bright, sweet, and yes, a bit sour, though not spicy-hot, as the name suggested. We ate every bit.
The soup was preceded by my favorite crunchy Vietnamese eggrolls, thinly rolled cigar-shaped lozenges of ground chicken, vermicelli, carrots, and daikon in a lovely fish-sauce mixture. We wrapped them in generous leaves of romaine lettuce, packing these with rau ram, shredded daikon, and carrot, and dipped the whole package in the sauce. Then the amazing main dish...
We decided on a fish, with another amazing sauce, pungent and dark, peanuts, and a bit of beautifully green dill. The fish was burnished gold in its small iron skillet, brought to the table with a protective woven bamboo base. We spooned ramen noodles into our bowls, then shredded romaine, peanuts, the fish, and the sauce, and the whole thing disappeared in no time. All of it tasted like nothing we had never had before. Each flavor stood out, and we knew we were in the hands of someone who definitely knew what she was doing.
The owner asked whether we wanted dessert, and initially, R. said no, but I wanted to try a dessert, since what we had thus far was so outstanding. So we ordered a coconut creme brulee to share. I have had creme brulee before, and always found it disappointing, but this dessert, with its thin golden shell on the top, was the essence of the tropics, never cloyingly sweet, creamy and firm, without resembling a block of styrofoam, something I had experienced before. It was served with long, green spoons, two of them, so we could share. We savored every bite.
Then we returned home, toasted with sparkling wine, and watched the Coen brothers' movie A Serious Man, which I find so endlessly fascinating and intriguing.
Xanh Bistro is at 16161 Brookhurst, Fountain Valley, across from Mile Square Park. You will find a menu online, at

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Sweet Relief

This morning, just as I finished writing my earlier post, the phone rang. It was Jeremy, who sounded somewhat out of it and tired. He was at the Kaiser medical center he said, about to have emergency surgery. That's when I began to lose it, and he put the surgeon on.
The surgeon told me he was going to have to operate immediately on Jeremy because of a congenital problem. I hung up the phone, apparently before they were ready for me to do it, and called work, where I was due in about an hour, saying I wasn't going to be coming in.
We don't have Kaiser, but I was glad that Jeremy, who has not visited a doctor for years, being resistant to doctors, went to the hospital when he was in pain. We have insurance, so it will just be a matter of sending the insurance the bill, and seeing how much they are willing to cover.
The important thing is, he is fine. And intact. Overall, we were lucky.
We tried to keep him at our house with us at least overnight, but he wouldn't stay. He went home with food, new clothes, instructions, and medication, as soon as I was able to get him to promise to call me if he felt ill or needed help. He is overly ambitious, and says he feels fine, but the fact is, he just had surgery! He's 19, thinks he's immortal, but I'm hoping he'll be willing to go back to the doctor now for check ups.

What A Mess

Lately, all the decisions in the world need to be made, hard ones, regarding finances, whether my mother should go on hospice, etc. All the things I'd put off thinking about are suddenly looming in front of me, and the comfortable discomfort I have cultivated for the 5 years since I took on my parents' care has shattered. I have to decide what I will do about the impossible 9 week prescription to the nursing home the callow young orthopedic surgeon has given, a nursing home where my mother is miserable and pining away, refusing to eat. Every time I see her, she tells me she is hungry, she is uncomfortable, she has to go to the bathroom. She won't talk to any of the nurses there. They probably wouldn't listen, wouldn't see she was afraid and confused, wouldn't care. She will eat a little, a very little from me, and take her pills, when I plead that she must. But the stuff they give her to eat is disgusting. It smells like wallpaper paste, and looks like it too. I want to give her a date shake, oozing with vanilla essence and flecks of walnut and date. She will love it, and it is good for her, full of fiber and vitamins. But the nursing home won't like that I am giving it to her. They want to put a tube in her stomach.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

A Weird Day

It was a confusing and weird day. First, the Internet would not work this morning. I had to stay home from yoga and troubleshoot it on the phone with Cox. Then I went to class and added the people who were there last time and a new person. I gave people their scores on the diagnostic back, and discussed in detail the prompt and sample essays. Some people who got low scores dropped the class, as usual, and some, who should have, didn't.
I was feeling bent out of shape and anxious because of my mom. I was worried about the fact that my Power of Attorney doesn't official cover health care, but I need not have worried. A talk with my friend in yoga class, who is a lawyer, cleared everything up, and I will download conservateurship (sp?) papers and take them in. That will solve the problem. Another yoga friend, who is a speech therapist who has worked with the elderly, told me I could give my mom a date shake, which would be tasty and very good for her, particularly if I use almond milk rather than regular milk. So on Friday, or maybe even tomorrow, I will go to my dad's house and make one and take it over for her.
That brings me to the weird part. I was so bent out of shape and worried that I forgot it was Tuesday, and I was supposed to go to Torah class today! I went to Laguna after class, totally forgetting that, and didn't realize the mistake till I got there. By the time I got home, having not eaten all day, it was too late. So I'm sorry Michelle, if you're tuned in!

Shooting Star

Last night, coming home from choir, I glanced into the sky and saw a streak of light shoot by.... I'm not sure what that means, but it isn't something I see every day. I'll take it as a good omen, because I might as well.

Monday, May 24, 2010


Saturday I began watching the first couple short films from Kieslowski's Decalogue series. These are short films he made for Polish T.V. based loosely on the ten commandments. There is not a one to one correlation between them and the commandments. Instead, these are stories of people involved in particular scenarios that bring up various moral dilemmas. The first of the films involved a father and his son. Both were scientifically minded, the son being a genius of about 7 or less. The father gave absolute authority, apparently, to his computer, which sat glowing like an idol in his apartment. Because of his trust in the computer and in numbers, his son died.
The second film, which I will need to watch again, is about a woman who is pregnant fairly late in life. Her husband is dying; he is not the father of the child. In fact, he is sterile, so the wife presses the man's doctor to tell her whether the man will in fact recover. If so, she will have an abortion. If not, she will keep the child and go off with the father of the child to make a life. What happens is unexpected and complex--so much so, that I must watch it again. There is another film on the disc, but I haven't watched it yet.
I couldn't get the disc to work on my DVD because the machine I have is primitive and doesn't have a button that would allow me to designate which of the several things on the disk I want to watch. We have no remote for the player because it is attached to the cable on the tv. So I had to watch it on the computer.

Early Morning Sessions

Every morning between about 2:30 AM and 4:00 AM, I cannot sleep. It is not just the cat, pushing his wet nose into my ear, underarm, or any other body part that presents itself and begging for food. Once I am up, I cannot get back to sleep for the many many conundrums that present themselves. It is only by forcing myself to remain still, with my eyes closed, that I finally am able to sleep and to dream, invariably, troubling and repetitive dreams, like the ones I had this morning. In one of these, I saw that I had left the remnants of a meal in the back window of the car, and about 3 colonies of different kinds of ants were swarming everywhere in the back seat. I wondered how I was going to get rid of them without being painfully bitten and attacked.
In another dream, I learned that Richard had his own blog. It even had a name--Two Wheeler! The fact that he is a total Luddite who refuses to have a cell phone and stays away from computers as much as he can did not influence me in cooking up this anxiety dream, where I learned that he had a whole secret life he wrote about there and never told me about.
Naturally, it was thoughts about my mother that kept me up. I don't know what to do next. The doctor says he wants her to stay there 9 weeks--this is the orthopedic surgeon. He also wants to see her next week, and I am unsure how I will manage to transport her and who will accompany her. The doctor is only there on Monday. I suppose I should arrange that today. But there are too many things too many little things and big ones to arrange.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Another busy Sunday

This morning I did a few last minute things on my Blackboard site for the class, sent an email to my new students, asking them to download the syllabus and information handout for the class instead of having it copied, three days late. Then I went to see my mother. I stopped at Trader Joe's and brought her a big beautiful pot of pink Italian heather. I had never seen that before, and I thought she might find it cheerful.
When I arrived, they were still serving breakfast, but the caregiver told me that my mother wouldn't eat a thing. I tried my hand at it, but I have to say that what they gave her was not at all appetizing. At least they could have given her some chocolate pudding. She could eat that, and they could give her her pills that way. And it at least has milk in it, so it isn't so non-nutritious. The hospital had also given her scrambled eggs, but this place won't do that. They won't try to give her hot tea by teaspoon either--too much trouble I guess. I started to think that if they put her on an IV because she won't eat, I am not sure how much longer I will allow that to go on.
She is refusing to eat, and I suppose that is her last choice. Maybe it is just because they won't give her anything she likes though. At least they could try that.
I did find out a doctor had seen her, but that person didn't call me.
After that, I went to Denise's yoga class in Mission Viejo. She is leaving for India till September, and I will miss her.Then I hied myself over to Laguna for Bob's 3 1/2 hour Chinese internal martial arts workshop. It is not really the kind of thing I usually go out for, but he was so insistent, I signed up. Then Liz and I went out for Chinese food at Chef Chen (yum). Richard was doing the big read by computer. Now he's eating the Chinese food I brought home for him.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Miracles Happen

I never dreamed I'd do the amount of work I needed to in order to get ready for school Monday, when the new semester starts. I had just barely started my syllabus Thursday, though I had done study questions for the works we'll be studying and had two out of the three paper topics sussed out. But I didn't do the syllabus, which I need at least to SHOW the students the first day of class. That would be a first for me.
But today I skipped yoga, doing practice at home instead, and finished the syllabus! Then I went and had my hair colored, and while I waited for that, I planned my classes for the week, just about everything.
Feeling exhilarated, I went to my dad's house after that to take him out. He's been so depressed. He isn't shaving properly. His upper lip looks as though he's left the corners unshorn, as though for gleaners. So he smiled when I suggested we go to that sugar-free bakery we spied a couple of weeks ago, with just such a visit in mind. We poked through a charity consignment store in the same strip mall (mediocre), and he got himself a large print book to read too.
Then I did the grocery shopping at Trader Joe's. What an amazing thing! I won't feel guilty spending time at yoga class and that Chinese stance workshop Bob is teaching in Laguna tomorrow.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Commencing to Finish

Today was a busy day. In the morning, after yoga, I took dad to the farmer's market and to see mom. But I was overly ambitious because I needed to be in Irvine for an appointment at 1. I was 10 minutes late because of exceptionally heavy traffic. Then I took part in the graduation at the college as a faculty member, having ordered my regalia for the first time.
It was really moving to see the students who have been a fixture on campus for many years finally finishing. One student failed many people's English classes--never mine; I only saw her in the Writing Center. She told me once that she used to be a maid in a hotel, and developed a yearning to be a lawyer, even though she had never graduated even from elementary school, as far as I remember. Her English was poor (it was her second language), so it was a struggle, but I have noticed her bearing change, her confidence grow, and today, she smiled as she walked across the stage. Another student, from last summer, has contacted me a number of times by email, telling me how much my Writing 1 class has changed the way he thinks and writes. He is from Syria, and he will go back there now, but promises to contact me on Facebook, as he has several times already.
Most of all, I felt like a real part of the faculty, as I sat with my colleagues, eying the students' amazing high heels in the hot sun.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Almost done with this semester

I have two more papers to grade this semester, and then I have some thinking to do about grades. Technically speaking, there are some people whose numbers say they fail, but I might not fail them. And there's a person who got an A on every paper whose number gives him a C+--a C at our school because we have no plusses or minuses. I can't see giving the guy a C. Of course, he did himself out of an A by not doing a lot of his homework and missing classes, but I will probably give him a B. And there's at least one who failed, according to his numbers (a D+) who I will boot up to a C. Another one failed because he constantly turned in his work late, and I wouldn't take his previous paper. I have to decide whether to make him pay for that with failure for the whole class. It wouldn't hurt, truth be told, for him to get more practice on learning how to go to college. He needs that practice because he sure doesn't know how now. But I imagine he'll be taking plenty more classes, even if he passes this one. He'll have to learn to pay attention to assignments and rules in those classes. His illness (sickle cell and probably also Tourette Syndrome)kept him out of class for some of that time, so it depends how much I want to let him slide because of these disabilities. I told him though that he definitely needs to go to DSP&S for help next semester. Unfortunately, there isn't going to be anyone testing people at the college for disabilities this summer. But in the fall, he can get tested.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Torahton Redux

The Torahthon was a hoot. 54 people stood up and did their shticks on a particular piece of Torah they had been assigned. Some did comedy routines, some limericks (one memorable 5 year old boy, for instance), one sang, another brought props such as a piece of burnt toast to represent the temple's "burnt offerings" and bbq sauce to show something about the world's first bbq sanctioned by the Torah when the priests at the temple divvied up their piece of the sacrificed animals, and a couple did raps. I was the only one who attempted a real interpretation in my 60 or so seconds. But it was funny, inspiring, inspirational, and above all, a fascinating romp through the world's strangest book. We are the first synagogue to attempt this, apparently, and others are watching with interest. We will probably be on You-Tube! Stay tuned!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Home Sweet Home?

Today I went to visit my mother at the nursing home, and found that she still would not eat or take her medicine. The nurse was baffled. But she said she didn't have time to spend with her, like the board and care caregivers do. This, along with the fact that a wound has opened up on her injured leg since she came to the nursing home, makes me feel she would be better off at the board and care. But I am giving it another day or so to see if things improve. She hasn't seen the doctor there yet, and the staff only just figured out there was no point giving her physical or occupational therapy because of her dementia and deafness and the fact that she keeps her eyes closed most of the time.
It was pretty awful being in this situation, and it is clear that I have a hard decision to make soon.
On other matters, I was talking with Reb today about my Writing 2 conundrum, and it seems certain that I will have to scale back to be sure that all the students here can complete their research at our library and online. Some students just cannot get around by bus and do not have cars. Though I traveled by bus (with a baby and lots of groceries and assorted junk), not everyone knows how or even lives on a bus line. So unless I plan to take students to the UCI library myself, I should try to help them find topics they can research here, which might be easier now that the librarian says the library here is investing in a major academic database.


Yesterday my mother had her appointment. The bus arrived as ordered, and though the driver claimed that they had no record of my mother being in a wheelchair, despite my mad dash on Friday to measure and weigh the thing and call it in to OCTA (by then closed, so it was left admittedly on an answering machine), the company apparently did not have this information. Also, I had completely forgotten to get my poor chilly mother a coat from the house. After she broke her leg, she could not wear any of her clothes because they were all pants that hugged her legs too much, and this wasn't possible because of the leg stabilizer. There was only one pair of loose, lightweight, flowing pants, so I madly dashed to the store last week and bought about 5 dresses and pairs of shorts. In fact, I have another in my car, but she is always cold, and the caregiver did not pack sweaters or long sleeve tops because she was sure they would put her in a gown, and she said things are always stolen from those places anyway. She has only one longsleeve nightgown, so they dress her in it and the pants every day.
She was outside waiting and waiting on the ride home for the bus 45 minutes, freezing.
I don't know what to do. I don't have time to shop. I worried myself sleepless over it all night long.

Monday, May 17, 2010

One more day

This is exam week at the college. I will be meeting with my students to give back their drafts and discuss them with as many students who want or need to talk to me. Though it is my official exam day, I will collect the final papers by email on Weds. and grade them as fast as possible so I can do my syllabus for first summer session. Thank goodness, I'll be done with this class (nearly) at that point.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Nursing Home

The nursing home I chose for mom (on the caregiver's advice) is enormous. It reminds me quite a bit of the one in Philadelphia, but is fortunately much cleaner and friendlier, though the layout of it looks like the assisted living part of the place my parents were in initially. Fortunately, the rehab part doesn't resemble it at all. That was a snake pit, where the racist attendants let my father lie raving on the floor after his stroke.
The admissions person (on weekends, at least) is a guy named Hansel, which brought a smile to my face, and you could tell he didn't want to hear the inevitable quips, so no breadcrumbs, no witch who eats children, etc. What were his parents thinking?
Transporting mom by van went well. The caregiver found me a guy who charged a reasonable price, and I will call him again, I'm sure, when I need to. I'm pretty sure mom will never be out of her wheelchair, even after her leg heals.
Tomorrow, the person I hire to take my parents to the doctor will ride the public van with her to have her stitches removed. I am concerned about that. They are less than reliable sometimes. I hope it all works out.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

The Israeli/Palestinian issue

American Jews like to think of themselves mostly as Americans, and many of them, like me, find the politics in Israel abhorrent, and want to believe it has nothing to do with us. I have belonged to progressive Jewish organizations, Jewish Palestinian dialogue groups, and fancied myself immune to the taint associated with racism in the Middle East, but what is happening on the UCI campus has made me realize that I can't hide, anymore than the Jews in Europe and Germany could. They didn't think of themselves as Jewish in the old way. They were assimilated too, but no one who wanted to kill them stopped to ask them about their politics before they sent them off to concentration camps.
Talking doesn't seem to do the trick anymore. These guys aren't listening.They are angry, and they have some good reasons for it too. It's just that they are being used by those who want to harness that anger and turn it into something different.

Friday, May 14, 2010

No Wonder I Was Freaked Out on Campus Yesterday; I'm Not Alone

I copied a letter I got on email from the Jewish faculty at UCI. They were as appalled as I was. I am pasting it intact here:

An Open Letter to the Community from Faculty for Israel at UCI
May 10, 2010

We, faculty at the University of California--Irvine, are deeply disturbed about activities on campus that foment hatred against Jews and Israelis. The troubling events over the past few years include the painting of swastikas in university buildings, the Star of David depicted as akin to a swastika, a statement (by a speaker repeatedly invited by the Muslim Student Union) that the Zionist Jew is a party of satan, a statement by another MSU speaker that the Holocaust was God's will, the tearing down of posters placed by the student group Anteaters for Israel, and the hacking of their web site. Some community members, students, and faculty indeed feel intimidated, and at times even unsafe.

Some of these actions are protected by the First Amendment and in no way do we want to limit freedom of speech. We welcome open dialogue among all members of the UCI community. We respect and value our Muslim colleagues, including those members of the MSU who support and encourage open dialogue and civility on campus. At the same time, we take issue with hate-promoting actions that we find unacceptable. They run counter to the peaceful co-existence and civility that are essential to a university environment. Actions that demonize and derogate others, such as the previous events that have occurred on our campus noted above, have contributed to UCI's developing a growing reputation as a center of hate and intolerance. Our campus deserves better.


Marlon Boarnet, Professor, Department of Planning, Policy, and Design Matthew Brenner, Professor, Department of Medicine
Dan Cooper, Professor of Pediatrics and Biomedical Engineering
Rina Dechter, Professor, Bren School of Information and Computer Sciences
George Farkas, Professor, Department of Education
Paul Feldstein, Robert Gumbiner Professor, The Paul Merage School of Business
Gary Fouse, Adjunct teacher, University Extension
Stephen Franklin, Lecturer, Bren School of Information and Computer Sciences
Jean Fried, Project Scientist, Department of Planning, Policy, and Design Julia M. Gelfand, Applied Sciences & Engineering Librarian
Sheldon Greenfield, Donald Bren Professor, School of Medicine
Amihai Glazer, Professor, Department of Economics
Dan Hirschberg, Professor, Bren School of Information and Computer Sciences
Christopher Kahn, Assistant Professor of Clinical Emergency Medicine Zeev Kain, Professor, Anesthesiology & Pediatrics & Psychiatry
Tatiana Kain, Chair and Medical Director, Department of Emergency Medicine
Sherrie Kaplan, Executive Co-Director, Center for Health Policy Research Mark I. Langdorf, Professor, Clinical Emergency Medicine
Marc Lerner, Clinical Professor, Department of Pediatrics
Seymour Menton, Research Professor, Department of Spanish & Portugese
Frank Meyskens, Professor of Medicine, Biological Chemistry and Public Health Dana Mukamel, Professor, Department of Medicine David Neumark, Professor, Department of Economics
Alex Nicolau, Professor, Department of Computer Science
Raymond W. Novaco, Professor, Department of Psychology and Social Behavior
Richard Pattis, Lecturer, Bren School of Information and Computer Sciences
Shlomit Radom-Aizik, Postdoc, Department of Pediatrics
Carl H. Schultz, Professor, Emergency Medicine
Roberta Seid, Lecturer, School of Social Sciences
Roxane Cohen Silver, Professor Department of Psychology and Social Behavior
Etel Solingen, Chancellor's Professor, Political Science
Dara Sorkin, Assistant Adjunct Professor, Department of Medicine
Eugene Spiritus, Chief Medical Officer, UCI Medical Center
Hal Stern, Professor, Department of Statistics
Dan Stokols, Chancellor's Professor, Department of Planning, Policy, and Design and Department of Psychology and Social Behavior
Gene Tsudik, Professor, Department of Computer Science
Alex Veidenbaum, Professor, Department of Computer Science
Mark Warschauer, Professor of Education and Informatics
Hadar Ziv, Lecturer/Research Scientist, Department of Informatics


As I may have said earlier, the nurse practitioner from UCI Med Ctr. has determined that my mom needs to go to a rehab facility and that her care is too much for the board and care to handle. Consequently, I now have the problem of transporting her to the rehab center because she cannot sit in a car or put weight on her leg.
The ACCESS bus for seniors won't transport her, they say, unless I measure and weigh the wheelchair with her in it. So I went to the house and did the next best thing, adding her weight from a recent doctor's visit to the weight of the wheelchair. But they won't take her tomorrow anyhow because it is too late to call for a ride. So I have to find another service that will take her, and the only one I know of doesn't answer the phone.
Meanwhile, I am feeling sick. It seems I have some kind of sinus infection or something that is making my head and ears hurt. This makes everything much more difficult to deal with.
I let off some steam by screaming as loud as I could. It just made my throat hurt. I don't feel any better. I guess I will figure something out.

To the Rehab We Go

My mother is now able to sit in a wheelchair for a few hours per day, but still is suffering from high blood pressure and some kind of infection of unknown origin. She stays asleep most of the day, except at night, when she tries to escape from her hospital bed and stand up. If she did that, she would break the leg again.
Monday, when I am at school talking to the students about their final drafts and preparing them to revise them for the final essay, which comes in Weds., my mom will be going to the surgeon's office to have her stitches taken out. Margaret, the driver, will accompany her, but will not drive her. Instead, they will both ride in the OCTA van, if I can get them a spot. I have to call today.
The Physician's Assistant from UCI who tends to my parents came out to visit my mom and says she needs a few weeks in a rehab, so now I have to choose one. That's hard. Rehabs can be awful. My dad was in a nightmare of one in Philadelphia with racist aides who left him lying helpless on the floor after his stroke, when he was out of his mind. He ended up trying to strangle a doctor, thinking the man was trying to electrocute him with a toilet seat, and was sent to a snake pit of a public mental hospital where everything he owned was stolen. When Richard came to pick him up, he had no underwear, no shoes, and his glasses were gone. The doctors told him no one was going to take him away from there, that he would rot there. I am looking for a decent rehab fairly close by, that will not require me to drive on the freeway. Lou, what's the name of the place where Robert was staying?

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Better Day Thursday

Yesterday was a hard day. I had to sit with the student who lost her fiance and tell her that without sources, her paper would fail. She was crying because she can't understand why she's having a hard time. She refuses to see a counselor to help her deal with her grief. Sure, it would be hard anyhow, but I'd snatch at anything that might help if I were her.
I also had to face off with the contemptuous student who says he got a B+ in Writing 1, and this class has made no sense to him from the beginning. He is the same person who says it isn't fair that students should have to go to UCI to research their topics, and refuses on principle to do it. Others just don't because they are lazy.
Then I went to hear a poet read at UCI, a reading I learned about on Reb's blog, but when I got there, I found out that it had been moved to another building. When I went to the room and opened the door, a lecture on Renaissance painting was in process. Several of my former professors from UCI were there. I sat down just because I was embarrassed and I thought it would end soon, and the reading would begin, but after a few minutes, I left again and called R.
It seems the reading had been rescheduled for 7 PM. I went to wait for Richard in front of the library, where I was confronted with a huge demonstration by Palestinian students declaring this "Israeli apartheid week." There were no Jewish student organizations in sight, and I know why. Even though I don't care at all for Israeli policy toward Palestinians, I felt afraid and threatened. I even feared that someone might break my windshield because of the Jewish star chime hanging from the mirror. That didn't happen, but I sure didn't care for having to stand there for half an hour. It turned out that he was in the library waiting for me, but I never came into the library.
Lousy day! But today was better. I discovered that the Writing Center was closed because it was a non-instructional day. I got to stay home and read drafts, awful as they were, in a leisurely way, and now I will write to the students.

New and Improved!

I had to cut my Torah piece in half. I don't know if I managed it, but see below.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


I have not been over to see my parents this week as of yet, but I have heard nearly every day from nurses and doctors about my mother. Today I tried to call the orthopedic surgeon because the day that was scheduled for me to take my mother back to have her stitches out (next Monday) is when I must be in class giving back drafts and discussing them with students. It is my official exam day. Also, I thought it would be impossible to take her there, given that she cannot sit up or put weight on her leg and her blood pressure is awful, very high.
The doctor's office insists that she must go in an ambulance, and I must either take off work or find someone else to accompany her, so I am trying desperately to find out what time the appointment is, since I cannot find the appointment sheet the hospital gave me and the nurse who left a message didn't tell me. In fact, both nurses and receptionists insisted my mother did NOT have an appointment that they could see at all. So I am now unsure of how this will be settled. First I must speak with nurses and physician's assistants who saw her today and ask their opinion whether that will be possible or wise or whether it may endanger her life. Then I can call the doctor back and pass along this information and find out what time the appointment is, and line up transportation and a caregiver to accompany her. Sigh.

Last Day of Class

Today was the last official day of class. Though I am meeting with them Monday and Weds. of next week, the class is officially over, except for the collecting of final papers, which I will do on Weds. Technically, the finals day is Monday, but they will not be ready since I did not get their drafts till today, and several didn't give me drafts today since they still refuse to go to UCI to do research, saying it is unfair that they have to leave campus in order to do their work.
Since it is impossible with most topics to rely totally on IVC's library and what is available online, there is nothing I can do about this. I told them the first day of class that they should count on having to do it, and on spending many many hours doing research. They never bothered to do it, so most of them are just barely scraping by, and a couple not even that.
I will be happy to leave this class behind me forever and never never teach this topic again.


On Tuesday the 18th, the synagogue will have a Torah festival in which the entire Torah will be presented by various members of the congregation, piece by piece, in 60 second portions, or parashot. I took up the challenge of presenting one of these pieces, and was assigned a dense block of text--Numbers 19.1-22.1. Here is what I will present on Tuesday:
Bookended by the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, Chukat provides a means of unlocking the Torah’s symbolic nexus. At this point in its journey through the wilderness, the community is smarting from its wounds, touched by death. The sacrifice of a flawless red cow provides "water of lustration" to purge the Israelites of their impurities. The color of the cow and its gender, linked to fertility, possess immense power. But how does this arcane ceremony connect with the death of Miriam that follows? Commentators have remarked on the lack of fanfare this death receives. We are told only that Miriam died at a place called Kadesh (Holy), and was buried there.
Miriam once acted as a kind of midwife to the Jewish people by setting her brother Moses adrift in the birth canal of the Nile. Here, her death, like the sacrifice of the flawless red cow, compensates for the community's misdeeds. The Christian notion that the death of a righteous person enables atonement has its roots here. Miriam dies in order to purify the community. The word "lustration" means not only "purification" but the act of census or taking stock. Miriam's death encourages the people to take stock of their actions and repent, an act of holiness echoing the name of Miriam's place of death.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

A Strange Thing At the Door

Today, it is Tuesday, but nothing happened. No one called me with any urgent emergency. In fact, I discovered that my cell phone isn't working correctly and went off by itself, so maybe that's why. But for whatever reason, I went on to Torah group and had a nice evening for the first time in many weeks talking about a book of Deuteronomy.
It was about 9:10 PM when I came home, and I saw something that seemed to be tucked into the screen door. I couldn't tell what it was because the porch light long ago gave out and replacing the bulb doesn't help. So I reached out to take whatever it was into my hand, and it flapped crinkly black wings, whatever it was, and flew away, right out of my hands. I have no idea what it was, but I screamed, feeling I was holding a bat or a bird or a very large insect. I have no idea which. Or something supernatural, waiting for me there at the door.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Dueling Nurses

After looking at my mom for a while yesterday, seeing she couldn't get out of bed, sit up, or even keep her eyes open, I determined it was impossible for her to visit the doctor. Therefore, I called the office this morning and told them someone would have to go out to see her. The nurse practitioner with whom she had an appt. is going to go see her, and sent out a nurse in advance to check out the situation. Meanwhile, all kinds of home health nurses, physical therapists, occupational therapists were already attending to her.
The nurses all say my mother's blood pressure is climbing steadily, and she is in immanent danger of a stroke. Frankly, I pray that if she has one, it won't do a halfway job, leaving her even more impaired than she is at present. How awful to have to pray for that!

Thinking Twice

On Tuesday afternoon, my mother's doctor wants her to be seen at UCI Med. Ctr. for a followup appointment. At the time I made the appointment, last week, I thought things would improve, but instead, they may have worsened, since mom is still in bed, asleep all day, and unable to move as well as lacking totally in awareness of her condition. The idea of the driver getting her to UCI med ctr without re-injuring her leg is scary to me, even if I get one of the caregivers to go along with them. I don't know how much money to offer for that, either. So I called the Physician's asst. who works with my mom's doctor and asked for advice. I guess I will hear from her later.

Sunday, May 9, 2010


This morning I went to my parents' house at 7 AM and made waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. I had wanted to bring the Trader Joe's frozen fried potatoes with wild mushrooms, but I forgot it, so we had to do without one more carb!
My mother was asleep, though I'm told she was up most of the night, busily trying to escape from her hospital bed. Luckily, she couldn't manage it. She looked as much out of it as she had in the hospital. The caregiver told me I needed to buy her some clothes that would not put pressure on her leg because her pants won't work. They are all too restrictive. So I went shopping today and bought two dresses--a button down and a knit one-- a nightshirt, and a pair of shorts with an elastic waist. I know that isn't much, but it's all I could find today. I thought I'd find those housedresses people used to wear, but there weren't any in her size.
My dad, Richard, and Jeremy loved the waffles. The Filipino caregivers thought they looked gross I guess. They didn't want any. I chopped my mom's waffles up and fed some to her, asking her if she liked them. She said no, but she kept on opening her mouth for more.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Dealing with People

Remember that student I have who lost her fiance, but decided to stay in the class anyway? Well, she turned in one of those terrible papers with no research and no evidence from the text at all. I gave her a D+, which was kind, actually, but I told her that she needs to do better than that on the final paper or she will not pass the class. I felt awful asking her to do more, but she was the one who insisted on staying in the class, against everyone's advice.
And the other student with sickle cell anemia? No paper at all. Sigh.

Silly Saturday

My Saturday started early, at the Farmers Market with dad. Then I went to Laguna to yoga class, with my very pregnant Brazilian teacher, Isabella. She is a very gifted teacher, and I always learn something new when I study with her.
I met someone at yoga that struck me in some ways as a younger (much younger) version of me. She is clearly from a Jewish background, and has the same long, straggly, curly hair that I used to have at that age. She said she grew up in Northern New Jersey, near New York, same region of the world I come from, though not identical. She is a dancer, and is writing a memoir, an "inspirational memoir" she said, about how she overcame her difficulties. At her age, which is probably late 20s, I thought that a bit ridiculous, but I didn't say anything of course, but just listened. After all, I don't know what it was she overcame, and maybe her triumph is quite noteworthy after all.
Despite yoga and all my best efforts, I am a bit frazzled these days. I have three times in the past two weeks dropped my car keys inside the car without noticing it, and of course, locked the door behind me, making it necessary to call Richard to bail me out. Today, I had $66. worth of frozen food and meat in the trunk at the time, so I begged Richard to overcome his anger and come help me, given that I was only about 5 minutes from the house by car.
I'm trying to make it out of this semester in one piece, with my car keys, in time to put all my groceries in the fridge!

Friday, May 7, 2010

If It's Friday, the Phone Must Be Ringing

Today I took the cat back to the vet, where I learned he caught a virus, which is causing him to sneeze. The vet gave me a prescription to pick up at a human pharmacy, an over the counter allergy medication, and hypoallergenic pill pockets to hide the pill in. But I never got to buy it.
I was too busy first grading the awful essays, some of them research essays with two sources, instead of the very reasonable 5 sources I requested. Then I made samples to discuss with the class, and by that time, it was time to go pick up my mother at the hospital. Only I thought better of it. How on earth would I get her in and out of the car without re-injuring her leg? So I asked that she be taken home in an ambulance, and that didn't happen for 4 hours after I arrived in the hospital, after the surgeon visited and rewrapped the wound, with my help, and the nurse changed her gown (I forgot to bring her clothes), and after I signed the release paper and got medication and on and on and on... you all know how it goes in hospitals, which are like casinos in that they are meant to remain twilight zones, without time.
But finally, she got home, and I left her propped in bed eating her mushed up dinner, happy and comfortable, smiling again.

One task down, a few more to go

This coming week is the last full week of class in the semester. I will be giving back one set of execrable papers and picking up drafts for another, which I hope will be better, but have little reason, in truth, for that hope. It is still an independent research paper, and the students have shown themselves mostly to be incapable of this--mostly because the topic involves textual analysis rather than sociological issues. It seems that sticking with such issues will be a better idea, unless one does a study of a particular theme or kind of text , or works by one author/filmmaker. So a class in Kubrick might work, with research papers about one of his films, but that will probably not occupy more than one or two research papers, rather than the 3 or so I'd like their topic to examine.
The thing that bothers me most about these papers is the feeling that I have not been able to do my job as well as I would have liked to this time. It is both what is happening with my parents and the topic of the class that has kept me from teaching them to write argument and research topics as well as I would have liked. It isn't for lack of trying; something just had to give, I suppose. And being overly ambitious about taking on a new topic now was clearly a mistake. SO I guess I have learned something, and can go on to the next thing... preparing summer's syllabus and assignments.

Thursday, May 6, 2010


I visited the hospital again, to find mom sitting in her chair. While she was visibly in better physical shape than yesterday, she was definitely more confused, hallucinating and not at all sure what had happened to her or where she was. She kept saying her leg was too big, and she couldn't get up. I kept telling her she broke it, but she didn't understand, or she understood for a moment, then forgot again. It is strange because yesterday she was more aware and clear-headed than I have seen her in years.
She chatted to me, though the nurses and doctors said she wouldn't talk to them at all, asking where Jeremy and Richard were. I told her she would be going home tomorrow, and that seems to be the case. The doctor says he will send her to the board and care because the therapists (Occupational and physical) can come to the house and work with her. It's not as though she will ever be able to walk again. She had already forgotten how to do that before she broke her leg. It's probably part of why she broke her leg.
A nutritionist came in and I ordered mom's food for this evening and tomorrow, all things I know she likes. I hope she enjoys them. I am not sure how much of it she'll be there to eat tomorrow.
Today was rope yoga in Laguna. Tomorrow I cannot go to yoga because I must take the cat back to the vet (he's been sneezing) and pick mom up at the hospital.
The future is uncertain. I am nervous about mom breaking a leg, arm, hip again. She definitely will try to get up as soon as the cast is removed. Her blood pressure is problematic as well, and the doctors raised her medication.

A Little Death on a Spring Day

So far, my parents are still chugging along. My mom had another operation last night, the last (we hope), closing the wound and removing the apparatus that keeps her tethered to the hospital. In a few days, if we are lucky, I will take her home to the board and care, where I hope the caregivers will be able to keep her safe, keep her from re-breaking the leg, or breaking the other, or killing herself in some other way.
But I heard of the impending death of a yoga friend, Kathy Ricci. Kathy is an inspiring person, an Iyengar yoga teacher I had never really spoken to until I received notice that she was fighting a case of incurable cancer. This went on for years. Kathy was buoyant, she fought on, despite lack of insurance, since she could no longer teach yoga of course. Her friends cared for and supported her. They lived with her and made sure she had everything she needed. I wrote her supportive notes on email, and attended a workshop benefit for her this past year that raised thousands of dollars for her medical care.
She has gone onto hospice, and it is expected that she will die within about 10 days. Though I really didn't know her before all this started, I feel as if I am losing a friend who has taught me about how to face the ultimate loss staunchly and with hope.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Wednesday Again

Although no medical disasters occurred yesterday, as they have seemed to so often this semester on Tuesdays, particularly in the afternoon when I am working at the Center, I did get two calls in the late afternoon and evening from the hospital saying my mother was not eating. I didn't have time to go to the hospital to see my mom, so I didn't get to check on this myself.
Not surprisingly, I didn't sleep well, thinking that my mother would very soon die from this self-denial, and that the doctors were sure to confront me with the question of whether I wanted to entubate her or withhold nourishment--not a decision I want to have to make.
My mother long ago signed an advanced directive saying she did not want heroic measures performed on her should she be gravely ill, but I no longer have that document. Now she is not capable of signing it or anything else, so it would be my decision to make, even though I know she said this 5 years ago.
But on the way to the hospital this morning, where I went instead of yoga class, I thought that since Mission is a Catholic hospital, I am probably not going to be offered that choice. They will use the tubes no matter what.
However, when I got to the hospital, what awaited me was not what I expected. While my mom was way out of it last time I went, on Sunday, today she opened her eyes and smiled at me, recognizing me. I asked her whether she was hungry because her food was there, and she said yes. She has to have her food chopped up and drinks only thickened liquids, so she won't aspirate them. So I got a nurse to sit her up and began feeding her pancakes, eggs, coffee, orange juice, milkshake, and applesauce. SHe ate a little of everything. Then she said she wanted tea instead of coffee. I got some tea, but it wasn't thickened, so she choked, and I had to call the nurse to get it out of her. That was upsetting. I won't make that mistake again.
She asked to see my dad, so I went to get him, and stopped for some gorgeous flame colored tulips on the way. She was so glad to see dad, holding his hand, as he dozed. Jeremy dropped by later in the day, and I think my mom appreciated everyone's presence, and didn't want us to leave.
I went to class and picked up my third papers. Not everyone was there, but most were, of the 14 I have left. I should get down to grading.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010


Yesterday afternoon was the first real hint of summer we had here. Of course, I spent most of it cooped up inside with students. It is nearing the end of the semester, and I have a set of papers (THE dreaded bunch of papers I've been complaining about) coming in tomorrow. Then, in a week or so, another set of papers--the other half of the assignment, involving the film they studied. On one hand, I think the students are mostly more enthusiastic about the film half. They mostly chose these pairs for the films, which they had seen more than once. But they have not done the research, and I don't have time to help all of them do that. Two students at least didn't even do the research for the first half, and I probably won't be getting any papers from them. One student did the research, with my help, but clearly has no clue what any of it means at all. He will fail, but probably needs another semester of practice at any rate. I will be glad to have this semester done, and the opportunity to start fresh with the 6 week summer classes, which are hard work, but clean. I know how to proceed, though I will be teaching some material I have never taught before. I know the path.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

New Poem

The Pond

What seems so still at first is not.
A world submerged, and every inch alive.
Above the surface, iridescent dragonflies,
their errant flight embroidering the air,
wear close-cut goggles as glider pilots do.
Ribbed torsos anchor thin, transparent wings,
patterned like a leaded pane, computer
chip magnified ten thousand times.
Although it’s May, the stink speaks
August all at once, as all this simmers
in the heat. At the water’s edge,
something slips onto the mud-- a leopard
frog, finding its first legs, a bit of tail
still hanging at the back. Beneath the green-
gold water, shadows skim—the oblivious
catfish, big and barbled, plump as a purse.
A thousand tiny fry scatter in confusion,
pinprick eyes shine like constellations,
shift and shape again.
Even in one drop
a million beings swarm, being born, dying,
preying on their fellows, creatures
in the middle of their lives, as I am, unaware.

Daily Report

After yoga class, I stopped off to see dad and to bring him last week's Sunday New York Times. I do that every week. But today, the caregiver told me that dad has needed oxygen the past two nights, and can no longer walk freely around the grounds. He must be wheeled, and the caregiver takes care of his plants and worms. It tells me that he will probably not be with us much longer, which saddens me, of course. Also, I am worried because if he goes first, most of the money we get for their care will be cut off, and we will be left mostly the money we got for selling their house. Then my mom will have to go to a medicare place, where she will definitely not get the level of care that she gets here.
She was much better today. Her eyes were open, and she was talking, though she didn't make much sense. She was glad to see us, particularly dad, who I wheeled close to the bed so they could hold hands. She had food there, but will not feed herself. I could see that someone had been feeding her a little of the mush on the plate. She was having trouble swallowing, so they chopped everything up very fine, no pieces bigger than those in baby food for one year olds.
Weds. she has another surgery. I will probably not be able to go see her again before that time.

The Film Series is OVER

Last night I showed Room with a View, the last in the adaptation film series. A student I had never seen before showed up to watch it. She enjoyed it, and was sorry the series was over, saying she didn't hear anything about it from anyone, but finally saw it advertised on the marquee, where of course, it had been advertised since the start of the series.
At the end, we were rather sad to see it end, despite the lack of success, and Richard asked me if I couldn't do it again, just for us, with a different set of films.
I said no, but admitted that I had enjoyed showing films just for us on the large screen.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

I learned something else today

Yahoo had a little photo feature about the 15 most dangerous animals. How come they didn't put humans in there? I would bet they're much more dangerous than all the rest put together.
The one that struck me most was the slow loris. It's a very small animal, and apparently, one of the only poisonous mammals. I know male koalas and duck-billed platyppi(?) have poisonous spurs on the back leg. But the slow loris exudes poison from glands near its elbows.


Shabbat notwithstanding, Saturday is always a very busy day. My dad wants to go to the farmer's market near U.C.I., where he eats up everything with his eyes, and samples things for real as well. And now that my mom is in the hospital, I need to go visit her. On top of that, there is a yoga class in Laguna in the early afternoon with a very good teacher, Isabella. She is pregnant, so I take advantage of as many of her classes as I can before she will not be able to teach for a while. This is her second child. She has a 2 year old as well, and lives far from the studios were I usually study, in San Clemente.
The morning had a tough start. I got up early, so I could do everything, even though Richard offered to take my dad to the market. But when I stopped at the bank to get money for the market, which accepts only cash, I dropped my keys in the front seat, and didn't notice until I came back and wanted to open the door. There they were, inside the locked car. I called Richard, and he took his time getting there. By the time I got into the car, it was too late for me to do everything I had planned, so Richard took my dad to the market after all. I hear they had a good time.
My mom again didn't recognize me and didn't acknowledge the very violet irises I brought her. I put her glasses on her... they had been sitting beside her on the table. The nurses told me they were concerned about her high blood pressure, but also that she was eating very well. She enjoyed the pancakes and eggs they fed her this morning.
I finally met up with the doctor who has been trying to get me since she was admitted. Apparently, I didn't get most of his messages, only the first one, from the ER, and after she was admitted, I didn't bother to call him back. So he was glad to see me.
Then I drove down to Laguna and had a wonderful class, where I learned some new moves. On the way back, I went grocery shopping, and now I am going to make dinner. I'm showing the last movie in the Adaptation series tonight. Several people have told me they saw it advertised, so maybe some will show up. I won't hold my breath.