The More You Know…

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I’ve started substitute teaching. You probably remember crusty, old geezers teaching your class when one of your teachers was gone. These fossils were fond of telling students that they don’t know what hard work is, that they had to recite the pledge of allegiance in Greek and had to learn math with an abacus.

 

Whatever the case, there was always the assumption that, like teaching vampires who only came out during the school day, subs didn’t have an everyday normal life; when the school day was over they’d retreat to the school basement to read the textbooks for enjoyment before using them as a bed to sleep on until they were called to action again.

 

My point is that, with a single day substitute, there isn’t really a chance to get to know the sub.

 

I typically sub at the school where I once taught and assisted librarily, so I know most of the teachers and they know of my condition. Given enough notice, I’ll offer to give a presentation to the kiddos about me. This way the teacher doesn’t have to prepare as much and the students get first-hand knowledge of why I am the way I am. I’ve posted a version of this presentation before (LINK), but it was a raggedy old PowerPoint.

 

AND THEN…last summer – I went to a writer’s conference to pitch my memoir. I wanted to stand out, so I put together a presentation. I had just given the students a crash course in PowerPoint presentations and Prezi, so I thought I’d give that a try. I didn’t get a book deal >:(, but my presentation was pretty sweet. Find it HERE

 

AND THEN…a new school year started and the sub jobs came pouring in. So far, I’ve presented to about 250 seventh graders, most of the eighth graders saw it last year.

 

AND THEN…my younger sister, a Latin teacher (She teaches Latin, she’s not a teacher who is Latin, no one is or really has been since the Roman empire), asked me to come talk to one of her classes. I thought that this nexus of presentation opportunities called for a revamped presentation.

 

AND THEN…I combined the raggedy PowerPoint with the fresh, shiny Prezi to create a PreziPoint (PowerPrezi?). The svelte can be viewed in all its smoothly transitioning glory HERE. Or, for your convenience, I’ve reproduced the presentation here in slideshow form.

 

AND THEN…actually, ‘AND THEN…’ doesn’t work here, but I’m nothing if not consistent, the frames with a 🌟 in the lower right corner were adapted from the original PowerPoint. This means that the ones without a star make up the original Prezi.

 

AND THEN… If you don’t notice, apart from the book excerpts, it rhymes! Isn’t that delicious?

 

AND THEN…FIN

 

AND THEN…@JarrettLWilson

 

Jarrett vs. Health Insurance

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output_0fhCWAGreetings, the internet!

I apologize for my overlong absence from posting here. This here story I’m about to unfold gives some insight into why I’ve neglected this beacon of organized nonsense. Before I get into the reading portion of today’s entry, we’re gonna do some math –

#1. Affordable Care Act + dude with extensive medical needs = grumpy insurance company.

#2. Grumpy insurance company + dude with extensive medical needs = sub-par coverage and service

#3. Dude with extensive medical needs is due for an annual MRI + sub-par coverage and service = dude pays for MRI

#4. Dude keeps records of all the times he tried to contact the insurance company + dude pays the bill anyway = legal action against insurance company.

#5. Legal action against insurance company^2 = 11…

#6. The square root of 11 is 3.31662479 – on a phone, these numbers could spell “DEMOBIPY” or “FENMAGRY”…which kinda rhymes with “gravy”, a delicious substance that clogs arteries, thus leading to more claims for the insurance companies, making them more grumpy.

I digress…

…Listen, part of my ongoing upkeep is a once yearly visit with my neurosurgeon. That annual visit is preceded by an MRI. When I was employed and insured through a PPO, I didn’t need a referral. Having an HMO (stands for Has Many Obstacles) through the Affordable Care Act, I need to get a referral to blow my nose. As if that bureaucratic labyrinth wasn’t enough, math problem #2 takes form in the…uh, form of unreturned messages and “health assistant” buck passing…hmmm, if you are a health assistant that had been passed a buck, you shall henceforth be called a “health passistant”.

Gosh, I’m all over the place, let me summarize – I need an MRI by mid August. I started the referral/prior authorization process for this about a month ago (after already having it approved, then losing coverage, but that’s a horse of a different color). All I’ve gotten in response is “I’ll reach out to your doctor’s office to see where they are in the referral process”. Three things about this –

1. The way they talk about trying to get in touch with my doctor’s office, you’d think they were trying to contact Santa Claus on Christmas eve.

2. The doctor himself told me that the paperwork was sent on June 2nd.

3. Every time I’ve called, I’ve spoken with a real person in the department I intended.

Here’s what I’m getting at – MRIs are expensive. I had one last year before paying my deductible ~ $1800. Call me paranoid, but I believe that when an insurance company is looking at paying that amount of money, there phones stop working, emails get sent to spam more often and the fax machine works maybe half the time. After all, HMO stands for Healthy Monetary Outlook. So I would have you bare witness, interwebs – I’ve done and continue to do my part to ensure that the MRI will be covered.

One more thing – I’m not slamming Obamacare here. I’m grateful that I have insurance, limited though it may be. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, you are your best advocate. Even the best insurance companies can’t get inside your head, even if they do pay for an MRI of your brain, and decide what’s best for you.

Also, I thought of one more meaning of HMO. For this one you need to use a salty New Yorker accent – HMO = Healthy?!? Meh, Oh well.
FIN

@JarrettLWilson

A Lament for the “Bitestanders”

OH! The hue-manity (get it? Hue = color
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OH! The hue-manity (get it? Hue = color)

“Would that that kid hadn’t applied so much pressure while using me to color the reptile skin on the dinosaur zombie robot! As it was, I couldn’t stand the force and snapped. Alas, my fate was the same as any broken crayon! Forget my loyal service as I dutifully filled in for blue crayon when the kid, barely able to find her own thumbs, needed to color a pond next to the dragon king’s fortress. It was my color of that pond that inspired you to pretend that the pond was a rotting pool of fish guts used as a torture device for the Dragon king’s enemies, including that devious Dr. Pteradactyl Laser Eyes. Fate’s cruelty was not done. Ere long, a napkin reeking of pickle juice came to rest beside me.
I spent a night next to this malodorous napkin, adopting a secondhand aura of briny vinegar. Perfumed as I was, a foul beast snatched me from that prison of garbage, no doubt mistaking me for a loathsome pickle.

Crayon Lines Dog
The scene of the crime and the suspect…

The trash ravaging monster soon discovered that my insides tasted nothing like my outside, but not before she broke me in half again! Did she bother to return me and the other detritus to the rubbish bin? ABSOLUTELY NOT! Like roadkill we were left there to rot until such time as a more evolved, mature creature.”

I heard this refrain from a green crayon, victimized by my chocolate lab, Lucy. Lucy had plundered a trash can for a napkin that’s been used for a pickle, a paper tray thing with some leftover cheese specks from Bagel Bites, and more napkins in a variety of flavors.
I found it peculiar that this crayon should meet with this fate. Made me think about all the innocent bystanders in the pursuit of satisfaction. Here’s to all the innocent crayons!

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

SSI & Medicaid Straight Dope

Recall my earlier post concerning the ABLE program. Twas from researching this program that the truth about SSI and Medicaid really slapped me in the face. What is that truth? Quite simply, to get accepted into these programs, you have to be poor. To continue to receive benefits from these programs, you have to stay poor. There is no allowance for monthly expenses or the degree to which you’re disabled. The bottom line is $2,000 – if you’ve more (including assets, etc.), so sorry. If you’ve less, you’re in so long as you don’t cross that $2,000 line.
I’ve since looked into this matter more, and have labored to produce, for your viewing and listening pleasure, a blog post with moving pictures and sound featuring me, Jarrett L Wilson, giving you, the Internet, the straight dope on SSI and Medicaid. Let’s start the show…

SPEND IT –
http://www.amazon.com/gp/search/ref=sr_nr_n_12?fst=as%3Aoff&rh=n%3A510136%2Ck%3Ahome+decor&keywords=home+decor&ie=UTF8&qid=1453588189&rnid=2941120011
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=sr_nr_p_n_is_pantry_0?fst=as%3Aoff&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3Ahome+decor%2Cp_n_is_pantry%3A8417613011&keywords=home+decor&ie=UTF8&qid=1453588273&rnid=8410679011

ABLE –
http://www.ndss.org/Advocacy/Legislative-Agenda/Creating-an-Economic-Future-for-Individuals-with-Down-Syndrome/Achieving-a-Better-of-Life-Experience-ABLE-Act/

Pooled Trust –
http://www.lexisnexis.com/legalnewsroom/estate-elder/b/estate-elder-blog/archive/2011/10/21/what-is-a-pooled-trust-and-when-should-you-use-one.aspx
http://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/using-pooled-special-needs-trusts-when-you-have-too-many-assets-medicaid.html
http://www.americanbar.org/publications/bifocal/vol_34/issue_5_june2013/pooled_trusts.html

SNT –
http://www.americanbar.org/content/dam/aba/publishing/rpte_ereport/te_lewis.authcheckdam.pdf
http://specialneedsanswers.com/what-is-a-first-party-special-needs-trust-and-when-is-it-useful-13264

LOTTERY –
http://www.txlottery.org/export/sites/lottery/index.html
https://www.random.org/

 

 

 

 

From Wildcat to Shepherd

One cake to rule them all

The Piner Middle School chapter of my life has ended. I’m not going to say that I thought I’d be there forever, but I don’t think I really processed the idea of not working there. I’ve Pinned some of my more memorable tokens on my bulletin board –

Bulletin Board

Among these various tokens of days gone by are pictures with various YAF authors, top down (right side of the bulletin board) – Jordan Sonnenblick (Notes from the Midnight Driver, Zen and the Art of Faking it, etc.), Joan Bauer (Stand Tall, Rules of the Road, etc.), and Gordon Korman (Schooled, Ungifted, etc.). Not pictured is the author from my first year in the library – Neal Shusterman (the Unwind series, the Skinjacker trilogy, etc.).

On the bottom left are warning signs I made to make the students (especially incoming seventh graders) aware that I’m rarely serious, and though it may not sound like it, I’m joking when I say “you have a fine of $47.33.”

Above that is a card that was stuffed with cash, graciously given after my most recent medical episode (read more HERE).

The rest are cards and other memos given for various occasions.

I’ll miss that place, especially the kids and my coworkers. One of the things I’ll miss the most is playing with the students’ names. Some of my favorites –

Student with last name Bell had lots of middle names – taco, liberty and southwestern

Anyone with the last name Martinez had to have “Wal” as a middle name.

Students named Juan were only allowed to check out “Juan” book

Landon’s middle name was gear.

A few years ago, a favorite of mine with the last name Park became *first name* national Parks, or water Parks or simply ess Parks.

The teachers and staff weren’t immune to my name play. I especially enjoyed heckling Mrs. Likarish (middle name ‘black’ or ‘red’, obviously). There was also Ms. Joe, or should I call her Ms.  Sloppy Joe or Ms. Cuppa Joe?

Silly names aside, I’ve been blessed to work with some stupendous individuals, and I’ll truly miss each and every one in his/her own special way. If my new coworkers are half as amicable and professional (amifessionable?), then I’ll be a happy camper.

Speaking of camping, my new job will be at a clinic as development coordinator – fancy, huh?  Aside from coordinating development and what have you, I’ll be writing grants that the clinic will continue to do business. What does this have to do with camping? Nothing! I just needed a segue to my new job. I’ll still try to make a connection. The “Shepherd” in the title refers to the name of the clinic. A shepherd would often have to camp out to keep an eye on his/her herd – there’s a very tenuous connection for you, you’re welcome.

Speaking of cake…wait, I never mentioned cake except for the instance where I mentioned that I didn’t mention it. A dear coworker of mine got me a cake, this cake –

One cake to rule them all

A few things to note about this cake –

It’s from Mom’s Bakery, so it’s as if pure joy lay Bakery with infinite serenity Bakery and had a child, named it “Mom’s”. I’m going to keep trying to explain the transcendental, otherworldly properties of a cake from Mom’s Bakery, but whatever explanation I conjure will not be sufficient. Maybe this next story will give you some idea of the worth of a Mom’s Bakery pastry. have a gander –

Listen, my coworkers and I, with the help of a few select students ate 3/4ths of this cake until I was bade to take it home. I ate about half of what was left and realized that, despite my commitment to healthy eating, I didn’t have the willpower to not eat every crumb. Therefore, I was forced to throw the rest away – reserving me a special place in hell. In the book of Revelation, I believe it says something like “…and the adulterers will be confined to the 7th ring of hell, where Netflix is not. Below them, in the 8th ring, are the douchebags that walk on the wrong side of the aisle at the grocery store, for the Lord God hath declared you s shalt keep to the right, just as in an automobile; it is written that these infidels will only have access to Celine Dion’s and Barbra Streisand’s stations on Pandora.  In the ninth ring w will be those who wantonly discard cakes and other delicious pastries from exceptional bakeries.  These wretched souls will have access to Netflix, but the remote will ever be out of battery.”

FIN

Presenting – My…Presentation

I used to work at a middle school.

I’ve was employed there in some fashion for a number of years.

My first two years I taught 8th grade US history and coached boys’ athletics. The next year I taught 8th grade English and coached girls’ athletics.

At the end of that school year some blood vessels in my brain leaked like so much kiddie pool left to rot in the sun.

I taught 8th grade English for half of the next two school years. I came back the next school year as the assistant librarian and have filled that role for four years.

Assuming my math is correct (2+1+.5+.5+4), I’ve been working there for 21,554 years – this raises a few questions.

Firstly, I’m only 32 years old. Secondly, the school has only been there for 40ish years. Let’s round that figure down to eight school years.

I did so enjoy working with students. Thing is, I’m was’t like any of the other teachers/professionals in the school.

When I returned to teaching after the hemorrhage, I created a PowerPoint presentation about my condition to show to my class to prepare them for my uniqueness.

Recently, I had the opportunity to speak to the new seventh graders. I modified the presentation to fit my condition today. I thought I’d share it with you, the internet –

1

This is the title slide – note that it has the title written (in English, no less!) on it.

2

This slide is for a handout. The students were given the same graphic, but with blanks. In essence, they started with an empty brain and ended with a full one (symbolic, no?)

3

In the same fashion as the previous slide, the students filled in the blanks on the same graphic.

4

This slide is a pictorial representation (pictoriational?) of the functions of each lobe. For instance, the temporal lobe (orange) controls the instinct to swat things away from your ear (actually, that represents hearing), and the frontal lobe controls the confusion that comes from staring at gibberish on a sign post (actually, that represents planning).

5

Now we get to my contribution – you see, the seventh grade reading classes at the school where I work are covering non-fiction. They are reading Gifted Hands by Dr. Ben Carson – the brain surgeon that removed half of a girl’s brain. One of the teachers is a friend of mine and asked me to present my experience as a primer. The image in the slide is my brain (isn’t it beautiful?). The white dot in the middle is my cavernoma isn’t it (or rather, wasn’t it) ugly?

6

Not much to say about this slide that isn’t in the slide. I’ll just add that the symptoms listed are enough to get you a 20 minute helicopter ride.

7

Much like the image in the “My Brain Issues” slide – the head pictured is my head. My head is perfectly round and my brain has many different colors. I know what you’re thinking, “But Jarrett, there weren’t no color in the other image and your head ain’t perfectly round.”

I’ve a twofold reply to this comment. First of all, I was joking – that’s not my head. Secondly, you need to work on your grammar. Moving on, this one has info about the surgery. That fact weighed heavily in my decision to title the slide “The Surgery 9/2009.”

8

A few summers ago I went on a tour of a Nair factory – this happened to be the day that Gillette planned to sabotage the Nair factory. They set explosives…I’m tired of this explanation. It started off with promise, but now I hate it!

Truthfully, a few summers ago I wanted to see the scar, so I shaved my head.

9

This slide is linked to a file with moving pictures and sound! This “video” is about *drumroll* neuro-plasticity! A fancy term denoting the brain’s ability to form new connections.

10

This is a visual representation of how your brain thinks. For instance, you see a donut with your occipital lobe. That info shoots to your frontal lobe and activates your happy gland. Your happy gland shoots a message to your parietal lobe “GO GET THAT F’N DONUT!” Someone gets it before you can, so your temporal lobe tells you to break out your megaphone and shout obscenities at this person and threaten to call the police. This guy grabs a nearby napkin dispenser and wangs you in the Temple…

11

…That blow to the Temple gives you a TBI. Your brain rewires itself and finds an alternate route to your happy gland.

12

I included this slide to give the students an explanation as to why I sometimes shake when I speak and why I walk with a limp and hike up my left arm like so much Bob Dole. It also helps explain the little girl in the moving picture mentioned earlier. It also gave me a chance to…

Treating Hypertonicity with Pic

…mention the painful treatments. One thing I’ve learned from working in a middle school is that, as much as the kids want to be treated as adults, they still love to hear about people getting poked with needles and meeting a real life cyborg.

13

I like to pepper in some humor here and there to make sure the kids are awake. When this slide appears, it’s accompanied by a very loud, obnoxious laugh.

15

I don’t really do any of these anymore, but I mention it because I did it for so long, and it drives home the point that I’ve had a long road.

16

In my mind, all of these will someday be replaced with “Painfully normal”. For purposes of this presentation, it gives the students an idea of what to expect when they see me.

17

It can be difficult to work around young people with my disabilities. Instead of hiding or pretending that I’m no different, I encourage the students to come talk to me if they have a question. I want to think that I’m an ambassador for the disabled. Hopefully, these students will apply what I’ve tried to teach them to others with disabilities.

I included the last bullet because I’ve had some students speak very loudly and very slowly to me. You see, they have to tell me their student ID number to check out a book. In previous years, a student or two would speak to me as if I was unable to type and listen at the same time.

18

I’m a pretty smart dude and I can be pretty creative, but I didn’t discover any of this and I didn’t make this sh*t up.

If there’s one thing I learned in college, it’s that Keystone Light is super cheap and tastes like weedkiller. If there’s a second thing I learned in college, it’s that plagiarism is bad (I remember a syllabus that said there’s a special place in hell for those that plagiarize).

We try to instill that fear into the students, so I model the proper citing of sources.

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

How Standardized testing contributes to Global Warming and Other Curiosities

INSPIRATION! I found you! It was hiding in the vast tangled forest of the rules and regulations that is standardized testing.

You see, I work in a middle school and state testing days are quite an ordeal. The only comparison I can think to make is what a building would have to go through to prepare to receive the president (a lame comparison, I know. I’m still shaking the rust of my inspiration gland).

EVERYTHING is considered a threat (to test security), every corner is monitored by highly trained personnel (i.e. the next name on the alphabetized staff roster as duties are assigned), and the event is catered (insofar as you can say that school lunch is a catered affair).My duty was predetermined at conception.

Listen, I’m a dude. Society dictates that I potty in a room where only dudes are allowed. Rumor has it that there are similar rooms for chicks, but I’ve never been in one. During state testing, the restrooms have to be monitored. The students like have think tanks after going potty. Such a clandestine rendezvous might cause a student to score a little higher and help him or her land a job that he/she is not qualified for (before discussing it in the bathroom, he/she thought the square root of 64 was 116, or that George Washington discovered America, or something).

Such a forbidden meeting might go like this (it’s funnier if you imagine them speaking in British accents): “The answer to #4 is unequivocally option ‘C.'” Says George. Carl scoffs at this, replies “I’d put ‘C’ if I wanted to get it wrong!” Jim busts in and says, “Will one of you please hurry? I really need to go potty.” He then starts doing the potty hop on one leg. George and Carl, having agreed that the answer is actually ‘D’, have moved on to discussing the merits of multiple choice testing and are too engrossed in the subject to hear Jim’s urgent request to pee (peequest?). Just as they decide that short answer questions would be the best assessment tool, but too difficult to grade, Jim soils himself. Now Jim rushes to finish the test so he can go home to change his pants. He ends up failing the test, and repeats the grade. His self esteem is shot, he stops trying in school, and is forced to take a low paying job at an aerosol can factory. As we all know, aerosol cans deplete the ozone layer – contributing to global warming.

In effect, not monitoring the bathrooms during standardized testing contributes to global warming.

This brings us back to my conception. In order to prevent cheating, rousing discussions on testing methods, and global warming, the people who create and enforce standardized testing (Satan, Barbra Streisand, Rush Limbaugh, etc.) have decreed that all potties be monitored during standardized testing. As a male, it is altogether fitting and proper that I should do this.  Getting back to being I.N.S.P.I.R.E.D (part one HERE), ‘P’ will now stand for “potty monitor”.

In keeping with the topic of standardized testing, ‘I’ stands for “Irregularity”. This is a very common, yet much maligned term used for any aberration from testing procedures, which is pretty much everything.

For instance, I told a student to “knock it dead”, ‘it’ being the science test. Moments later an owl flew by and dropped a letter at my feet. It was addressed to “Test Defiler Wilson”. I opened it and it started screaming at me (sounded like Tom Cruise). It said, ” It was reported at 8:03:56am that you bade a student to ” knock it dead” in reference to a test. This is in direct violation of subsection ee of decree 17 of chapter 119 of section four of the third edition of the educator code, copied here for your convenience: Thou shalt not wish luck to any student the student to figuratively use violence between 8:02 and 8:07am. Examples: “knock it dead,” “kick it’s butt,” and “slay that puppy”. For this irregularity, we’re taking away your stapler. May God have mercy on your soul.”

I can’t give you a example of a real irregularity – that, in and of itself, would be an irregularity. However, I can tell you that ‘R’ stands for refill.

When I write the word ” refill”, you probably think of an icy cold beverage at your favorite local eatery. That is quite far from I’m talking about. I refer, of course, to going to the doctor to refill the pump in your abdomen with that sweet, sweet muscle relaxer called Baclofen – which is 1,000 times stronger than the oral stuff. If you’re unfamiliar with this process, I’ve provided some pictures for you. These shots capture the wide variety of emotions that surface during a refill (read the captions for more info).

Primary emotion - euphoria. I never learn, every time I go in for a refill, I think they're going fill it with Pepsi or something, so I'm very excited. But...
Reading the Pump. Primary emotion – euphoria. I never learn, every time I go in for a refill, I think they’re going fill it with Pepsi or something, so I’m very excited. But…
...then comes the dread of knowing that, even if they do fill it with Pepsi, I'm going to get poked. Primary emotion - dread
Dawning the Pump               …then comes the dread of knowing that, even if they do fill it with Pepsi, I’m going to get poked. Primary emotion – dread

 

Primary emotion - boredom. I've been stuck with A LOT of needles. I'm not bragging when I say that getting stuck with a needle is as routine as going potty.
Prepping for the Poke. Primary emotion – boredom. I’ve been stuck with A LOT of needles. I’m not bragging when I say that getting stuck with a needle is as routine as going potty.
The Stick. Primary emotion - rage. Like I said in the previous pic, getting poked doesn't bother me. If I recall, I was so upset on this particular occasion because they didn't have any "Where's Waldo" books in this exam room.
The Stick. Primary emotion – rage. Like I said in the previous pic, getting poked doesn’t bother me. If I recall, I was so upset on this particular occasion because they didn’t have any “Where’s Waldo” books in this exam room.
Sucking out the old stuff. Primary emotion - stunned sadness. The old Baclofen had been a part of me for a few months, now it's gone.
Sucking out the old stuff. Primary emotion – stunned sadness. The old Baclofen had been a part of me for a few months, now it’s gone.
Pumping in the new stuff. Primary emotion - contentment. I'm just about done and the medical assistant has gone to get the "Where's Waldo" books
Pumping in the new stuff. Primary emotion – contentment. I’m just about done and the medical assistant has gone to get the “Where’s Waldo” books

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

 

 

Finding Direction (literally and figuratively)

Please excuse my recent absence from contributing to this blog. You see, this entry is the 129th post to this blog and 1+2+9=12. The 12th letter is L. L is the Roman numeral for 50, therefore I had to wait 50 days (give or take) to post again.

Truthfully, I’ve had a lull in my desire to write. My muse has been elusive (emusive?), but I still like to put words together in a meaningful fashion.

How am I to proceed without inspiration? If inspiration won’t come to me, I’ll go to it and force it to do my bidding. I will be inspired by the word itself. By that I mean that I’ll think of a topic relevant to my recent goings on that starts with ‘I’ and stew (mmm…stew) on that topic until I can’t stew (mmm…stew) no mo’.

After that, I’ll move on to ‘N’ and wax eloquently. After ‘N’ comes ‘S’, and so on in that fashion until I’m I.N.S.P.I.R.E.D.

That said, I’ll begin with ‘I’. I’m reluctant to discuss this, for fear that something will happen to spite this trend, but this being a blog about my brain, I have to report that there is nothing to report. In other words, the trouble spot in my head has been INACTIVE. This is due in no small part to the brainstem cavernoma resection performed by Dr. Jonathan White almost five years ago (read more HERE and HERE).

Fortunately, I only had one cavernoma (more info about this little evil thing HERE and HERE). There are people out there with more than a few of these dastardly raspberries in their heads. There’s a faint possibility that mine will grow back, that’s why I’m happy to report that nothing is going on.

Inactive is the exact opposite of my NON-STOP attitude toward recovery. My advice to anyone faced with a major life change is to go go go. Things are different now yes, but when you stop, you let the life change beat you (Jarrett ain’t gonna get beat so easily).

For instance, even though I still try to talk myself out of going EVERY time, I go to the gym and work out/therapize myself at last twice a week. I wake up super early to prepare for work. Sleeping has become a necessary evil. I don’t enjoy it like I used to; I only do it because my body tells me to. If I could live without sleep, I would. Also, my daughter never stops, so I have to keep moving to keep up with her (more about her later).

On the topic of movement and direction, I’ll move to ‘S’ and tell you about the anomaly of SOUTHWEST. A while back, I had to replace the battery in my car. Being without juice for a brief period, the compass in my car reset. After not calibrating it for a few weeks, the car did it itself. I’m not sure if the car was playing a joke on me, I live near a magnetic anomaly or my car just doesn’t understand that there are four directions, but no matter which way I drove, I was going southwest.

Therefore, I’d leave for work in the morning going southwest. I’d turn left and head southwest for two miles. Then I’d turn right and drive southwest for about three miles…I think you get the point.

In essence, if you were to ask my car for directions, they might go something like this – “start out by going southwest, after you get to the third stoplight, turn and go southwest until you get to an overpass, then do a U-turn and drive southwest for half a mile and you’ll see the donut shop to your right (southwest).

Ok, this is fun, one more – the GPS on my phone and my car discuss directions. My phone says, “head north for about two miles. Then you’ll see the exit for HW 56,  take a right, and head east for three miles, at the second stoplight go north. Go straight through next light, then turn left and park by the north gym to get Jarrett to work.”

My car would repeat these directions back, “head southwest for about two miles. Then I’ll see the exit for HW 56,  take a right, and head southwest for three miles, at the second stoplight go southwest. Go southwest through next light, then turn left and park by the southwest gym to get Jarrett to work.”

My car has since expanded its horizons and embraced all four directions. During that time though, giving directions was easy. “How do I get to X?” I’d chuckle and say, “Just go southwest, silly!”

This entry is getting overlong. Therefore, ‘P’ will stand for PATIENCE. You see, you’ll have to patiently await the rest of the list. I will continue to be INSPIRED on my next entry (a few weeks).

Until then, stay busy and head southwest, unless you need to go southwest.

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

Yad Sdrawkcab and The “Science” of Numoronology

This magic science employs elements of algebra, geometry, voodoo, music, lighting & poultry
Numeronology Logo with Border
This magic science employs elements of algebra, geometry, voodoo, music, lighting & poultry

A few weeks ago, everything got turned around on me. Literally. On Saturday, October 12th, a day that will live in ymafni, almost every piece of clothing I ventured to dawn came out backwards.

Let’s break this down so it kinda seems scientifical. Backwards day was October 12, 2013. My surgery was the third day of September, in that foul year of our Lord, 2009.

According to this website, 1501 days elapsed between those dates. Significance? 15+0+1=16. The 16th letter of our alphabet is ‘p’.  ‘P’ rhymes with, and is the first letter of ‘pee’ – which is what I must do now…

I’m back, moving on – ‘p’ is also the first letter of the word ‘polar’. In this case, polar has a dual meaning. On the one hand, it’s getting cold outside. We often use said word to denote extreme cold. On the other hand, polar is often placed in front of opposite to suggest something is out of order.

This brings us back to my clothes inversion excursion (exversion?). Anyway, the details are thus –

1# ecnatsnI – As per my usual Friday routine, I put gym shorts on under my pants. At some point that I don’t recall, I decided to put the shorts on both backwards AND inside out.

2# ecnatsnI  – I changed clothes after working out. Did I put the shirt on backwards? Yeppers. Did I fix the shirt to walk my dog? No.

3# ecnatsnI – I took the shirt mentioned in 2# ecnatsnI off after walking said dog and, being so unadorned, I deemed it uncouth to greet the visitor so gently rapping on my chamber door. Away to my dresser I flew like a turtle and grabbed a shirt. I carefully inspected the inside of the collar for the tag, swearing that, henceforth, I shall put my clothes on correctly.

Despite my oath, the damn shirt ended up going on backwards – I blame Fruit of the Loom (this blog brought to you by Hanes “You can’t put our shirts on backwards, we won’t explain how this is possible, you just can’t.”).

Continuing with our / numerilogical/historical/chronological(I will call this new “science” numoronology – notice the five letters after ‘nu’), the square root of 16 (being the sum of 15+0+1) is four. I took the square root because only “squares” where their clothes backwards.

Four is significant because that is the number of botox injections I got in my foot for the last treatment.

I’ve tried with little success to describe the pain that comes from injections in the foot – I’ll give it another shot. To experience this very unpleasant…uhh…experience follow this four step process –

1. Get a long, sharp object (i.e. a needle)

2. Take off your shoe

3. Take off your sock

4. Take the needle from step one and impale the bottom of your exposed for with it four f*cking times!

Please forgive my lack of creativity with that description. You see, I can think of no feeling, painful or otherwise, that compares to a needle stick (nay, four needle sticks) in the bottom of the foot.

However, the pain is worth it after the botox starts to work its magic on my toe flexors.

Listen, after my hemorrhage/surgery, some wires done got crossed and now my toes think my brain wants them to curl all the time.

My brain my or may not be sending a signal to curl so vigorously, but my toes are hearing “CURL, DAMMIT! CURL UNTIL YOUR TOES POINT BACKWARDS!”

Ok, let’s recap. I started by mentioning yad sdrawkcab (backwards day) and finished with curling toes. numoronology is a truly dizzying, convoluted science.

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

Oh yeah, in observance of NaNoWriMo, I don’t plan to blog for the month of November – toodles!

SiLiMes #15 – Birdese

I send messages to reading teachers to inform them that one of their students has a book on hold. I started writing these clever poems & vignettes. * = a student’s name –

A little bird flew into the library today and said, “KAW! KAW! KAW! KAW! KAW! KAW! KAW! KAW!” Luckily, I speak bird, so I’ll translate.  She said “* has a book on hold, he has until MONDAY 10/03 to pick it up, or it will ‘KAW!’ to the next ‘KAW!’”…couldn’t quite understand that last part, but you get the idea.