Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
warm feelings at the DMV
After carelessly driving and texting while driving for the last two weeks, my bank teller notified me the other day that my license expired. "Really? That's not good." I said and walked away wondering why I never received a DMV notification earlier. One look at my driver license and it dawned on me that I never bothered to change my address. Why didn't I correct this detail? Because if my license was stolen, the thief would not A) know where I live and stalk me, or B) would break into someone else's home and not mine. Yeah, this is my rational thinking at work. My glass is always half empty so I'm vigilantly prepared. You never know if someone attempts to break into your home. I wanted to install these booby trap iron stakes that drop down from our flat entrance in case a burglar manages to bypass the gate but my family would have none of that. We compromised and had pinhole cameras installed instead.
Anyway, I tried to make a DMV appointment but the earliest I could get was a month later. The non-appointment visit would have to do and I spent the day watching the wait-time monitor online for the best window of time to visit.
The next day, I left work early, arrived at the DMV office at the tail end of everyone's lunch break, and was 8th in the non-appt line. I received my form, filled it out, returned to the form monitor for my number and sat in an uncomfortable, plastic school cafeteria chair and waited until my lower back started hurting. Half an hour later, my number was called.
The bored looking young man behind the counter didn't look especially happy to be working there. He was all business in a dark plaid shirt and black framed glasses. His movements were meticulous and routine. He must have been doing this line of work for years. I handed him my paper work and he went about reading it, correcting my bad penmanship, stamping it, reading it some more, requesting I sign it, stamping it again, and having me initial it. Every so often he would glance up at me, probably to make sure I didn't grow bored and wander off or start yelling in broken English for no reason like the older gentleman four booths down from us.
I paid the fee, took the eye test, signed my John Hancock several times before being directed to the photo line. No thank you, or have a nice day. He just looked at me with a "go away now, I'm busy" glare. The photo line took another 15 minutes and the lady taking the photos was rather pleasant. She was cheery and actually conversed with me! It was like meeting a real human being at the DMV. Total time for my visit, 1:25:00. Not as miserable as I thought it would be and because of my spotless driving record, I didn't have to take the written test. The studying I did was all for naught.
Anyway, I tried to make a DMV appointment but the earliest I could get was a month later. The non-appointment visit would have to do and I spent the day watching the wait-time monitor online for the best window of time to visit.
The next day, I left work early, arrived at the DMV office at the tail end of everyone's lunch break, and was 8th in the non-appt line. I received my form, filled it out, returned to the form monitor for my number and sat in an uncomfortable, plastic school cafeteria chair and waited until my lower back started hurting. Half an hour later, my number was called.
The bored looking young man behind the counter didn't look especially happy to be working there. He was all business in a dark plaid shirt and black framed glasses. His movements were meticulous and routine. He must have been doing this line of work for years. I handed him my paper work and he went about reading it, correcting my bad penmanship, stamping it, reading it some more, requesting I sign it, stamping it again, and having me initial it. Every so often he would glance up at me, probably to make sure I didn't grow bored and wander off or start yelling in broken English for no reason like the older gentleman four booths down from us.
I paid the fee, took the eye test, signed my John Hancock several times before being directed to the photo line. No thank you, or have a nice day. He just looked at me with a "go away now, I'm busy" glare. The photo line took another 15 minutes and the lady taking the photos was rather pleasant. She was cheery and actually conversed with me! It was like meeting a real human being at the DMV. Total time for my visit, 1:25:00. Not as miserable as I thought it would be and because of my spotless driving record, I didn't have to take the written test. The studying I did was all for naught.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
You don't want to go shop anywhere?
My mom has the day off work today. I'm taking another sick day off work. We are at home and my mom decides that she doesn't want to waste her day off sitting around. She doesn't know how to drive. What transpires this morning...
Mom: "why don't we see a movie and then go shopping at Tanforan?"
Me: "I don't want to shop. Look at me? I look like someone took a stick to my face."
Mom: "well, you can sit in the car."
Me: "what? I'm not sitting in the car while you shop."
Mom: "what about the movie? People will see you anyway. What's the difference?"
Me: "it's dark in the theater, mom."
Mom: "Fine. We can go to Sports Basement."
Me: "I'm not going there. People I know will see me."
Mom: "Then what do you want to do?"
Me: "Stay home and wallow in self misery."
Mom: "So, we are not having lunch either? Unless you want to find a dark place to eat also."
Me: "you told me this morning that I look awful. Now you want me to walk around in public? I'll have to tell people who ask what happened was that you beat me up."
Mom: "Dont be silly. Say dad did it."
Mom: "why don't we see a movie and then go shopping at Tanforan?"
Me: "I don't want to shop. Look at me? I look like someone took a stick to my face."
Mom: "well, you can sit in the car."
Me: "what? I'm not sitting in the car while you shop."
Mom: "what about the movie? People will see you anyway. What's the difference?"
Me: "it's dark in the theater, mom."
Mom: "Fine. We can go to Sports Basement."
Me: "I'm not going there. People I know will see me."
Mom: "Then what do you want to do?"
Me: "Stay home and wallow in self misery."
Mom: "So, we are not having lunch either? Unless you want to find a dark place to eat also."
Me: "you told me this morning that I look awful. Now you want me to walk around in public? I'll have to tell people who ask what happened was that you beat me up."
Mom: "Dont be silly. Say dad did it."
Thursday, August 6, 2009
I'm a fall risk
As I get older, I've realized that I'm either becoming more irresponsible or just plain stupid. Things generally happen for a reason but most things can be avoided. I have lost that knack of avoiding accidents.
Yesterday was my birthday. I had no plans other than to go to work then track practice after. The same thing I do most Wednesdays. But since it was my birthday and my friends wanted to treat me for a drink, I obliged.
At the pub, I had my first shot of Patron and spent the better part of the hour socializing and sipping my Stella slowly. Then another round of shots and I downed my second one. At this point, I already had a good buzz going. It's time to stop but I got caught up in the moment and had one last shot for the night. The last shot gave me the hiccups. On an empty stomach, hiccups are not good to have.
I don't like hiccups. They hurt especially after a core workout that left my stomach muscles sore. And what do I usually do to rid myself of hiccups? I hold my breath. Generally this works for me but I had trouble doing so in the bar so I excused myself and headed outside for a little fresh air.
I sat on the bench outside and held my breath. This is where things are not too clear. I was groggy and awoke on the concrete while several people were asking me questions if I was okay. I don't remember much other than hearing a woman say that I fell off the bench and landed on my head.
I was able to get up and sit on the bench but my head and face was throbbing and I couldn't open my eyes. I kept touching the left side of my face and wondering if I broke the same bones I had surgery on nearly a year ago.
One guy to the right of me kept asking me questions about where I was, what I remember, and if I knew what happened. The conversation went something like this..
"Do you know where you are?" he asked.
"The city", I said.
"Which city?"
"The city", I repeated.
Realizing that the question was going nowhere, he asked, "What's your name? Do you know your name?"
"uh, my head hurts." I said.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Eileen." I mumbled.
"Where did you come from? Were you running and you fell?"
"No, came from the bar." I said.
From there he was able to get names of my friends and went in the bar to let them know I fell down.
Next thing I know, I'm escorted back inside, told to sit down and handed an ice pack for my face. Talk among my friends about taking me to the ER and having my head checked out and realizing I did something incredibly stupid, I started crying and kept apologizing for ruining everyone's evening.
I just wanted to go home and nurse my wounds but my friend took me to the ER anyway. We checked in and sat around for an hour waiting. The nurse came by and took my blood pressure and temperature. The doc took a look at me, asked a couple questions and decided a CT scan was in order since I landed on my face and head. There were no other scrapes other than on my face and knees which means I fell face first onto the concrete. And the left side at that. The one I tend to favor to break my falls.
The nurse returned and handed me a bright yellow wrist band with the words "Fall Risk" and a pair of yellow socks.
Apparently, there's a whole color coded system that hospitals use with patients who are prone to falling in the hospital to reduce error in patient care. They are: white for patient identification, purple for do not resuscitate, red for allergy and yellow for fall risk. I'm glad the nurse didn't give me a pair of purple socks and purple wrist band.
Again, we waited and waited and I took a bathroom break. When I returned, the nurse gave me a cup and asked for a urine sample. What? I told her I just used the restroom and why didn't she ask me earlier. She forgot. So, I drank copious amounts of water and handed her my sample. Then more waiting before finally being wheeled out to the CT room. The CT was completed and I was wheeled back. More waiting around for the results. The nurse took my blood pressure again (90 over 53) and told me that I must either be really fit or suffer from hypertension. I told her my heart rate can drop to 43 when I'm in a deep sleep so I'm likely just very fit. Of course, I didn't mention that I get dizzy and faint sometimes when I stand up too fast or go from light to dark environments and vice versa.
The doc returned with the results, a copy of my CT, and I was allowed to go home. I should receive a Darwin award. Between falling off my bike and landing on my face, tripping up and rolling a computer cart over my ankle, falling off a curb while opening my car door, walking into a pole while walking my dog, banging my shoulder into a door frame I didn't see, falling on my knees down the bart escalators while trying to catch a train, and smacking my face with a tree branch, this incident takes the prize. Not only do I have a hospital wrist band that says "Fall Risk" (which I plan to wear often) but I also have one that lists my DOB and ADM as the same day. Lucky me.
Today, my nose and left cheek is sore and red from the scraped up raw skin and my neck is stiff. And I'm still hungry and dehydrated.
Yesterday was my birthday. I had no plans other than to go to work then track practice after. The same thing I do most Wednesdays. But since it was my birthday and my friends wanted to treat me for a drink, I obliged.
At the pub, I had my first shot of Patron and spent the better part of the hour socializing and sipping my Stella slowly. Then another round of shots and I downed my second one. At this point, I already had a good buzz going. It's time to stop but I got caught up in the moment and had one last shot for the night. The last shot gave me the hiccups. On an empty stomach, hiccups are not good to have.
I don't like hiccups. They hurt especially after a core workout that left my stomach muscles sore. And what do I usually do to rid myself of hiccups? I hold my breath. Generally this works for me but I had trouble doing so in the bar so I excused myself and headed outside for a little fresh air.
I sat on the bench outside and held my breath. This is where things are not too clear. I was groggy and awoke on the concrete while several people were asking me questions if I was okay. I don't remember much other than hearing a woman say that I fell off the bench and landed on my head.
I was able to get up and sit on the bench but my head and face was throbbing and I couldn't open my eyes. I kept touching the left side of my face and wondering if I broke the same bones I had surgery on nearly a year ago.
One guy to the right of me kept asking me questions about where I was, what I remember, and if I knew what happened. The conversation went something like this..
"Do you know where you are?" he asked.
"The city", I said.
"Which city?"
"The city", I repeated.
Realizing that the question was going nowhere, he asked, "What's your name? Do you know your name?"
"uh, my head hurts." I said.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Eileen." I mumbled.
"Where did you come from? Were you running and you fell?"
"No, came from the bar." I said.
From there he was able to get names of my friends and went in the bar to let them know I fell down.
Next thing I know, I'm escorted back inside, told to sit down and handed an ice pack for my face. Talk among my friends about taking me to the ER and having my head checked out and realizing I did something incredibly stupid, I started crying and kept apologizing for ruining everyone's evening.
I just wanted to go home and nurse my wounds but my friend took me to the ER anyway. We checked in and sat around for an hour waiting. The nurse came by and took my blood pressure and temperature. The doc took a look at me, asked a couple questions and decided a CT scan was in order since I landed on my face and head. There were no other scrapes other than on my face and knees which means I fell face first onto the concrete. And the left side at that. The one I tend to favor to break my falls.
The nurse returned and handed me a bright yellow wrist band with the words "Fall Risk" and a pair of yellow socks.
Apparently, there's a whole color coded system that hospitals use with patients who are prone to falling in the hospital to reduce error in patient care. They are: white for patient identification, purple for do not resuscitate, red for allergy and yellow for fall risk. I'm glad the nurse didn't give me a pair of purple socks and purple wrist band.
Again, we waited and waited and I took a bathroom break. When I returned, the nurse gave me a cup and asked for a urine sample. What? I told her I just used the restroom and why didn't she ask me earlier. She forgot. So, I drank copious amounts of water and handed her my sample. Then more waiting before finally being wheeled out to the CT room. The CT was completed and I was wheeled back. More waiting around for the results. The nurse took my blood pressure again (90 over 53) and told me that I must either be really fit or suffer from hypertension. I told her my heart rate can drop to 43 when I'm in a deep sleep so I'm likely just very fit. Of course, I didn't mention that I get dizzy and faint sometimes when I stand up too fast or go from light to dark environments and vice versa.
The doc returned with the results, a copy of my CT, and I was allowed to go home. I should receive a Darwin award. Between falling off my bike and landing on my face, tripping up and rolling a computer cart over my ankle, falling off a curb while opening my car door, walking into a pole while walking my dog, banging my shoulder into a door frame I didn't see, falling on my knees down the bart escalators while trying to catch a train, and smacking my face with a tree branch, this incident takes the prize. Not only do I have a hospital wrist band that says "Fall Risk" (which I plan to wear often) but I also have one that lists my DOB and ADM as the same day. Lucky me.
Today, my nose and left cheek is sore and red from the scraped up raw skin and my neck is stiff. And I'm still hungry and dehydrated.
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