Where am I going??

 So, during the middle of last 2023 summer Trevor said he wanted to take me on a mystery trip and gave me the vacation dates to get approved at work  (4/4 - 4/10/24).  He asked Melissa and the boys to join us.  At first they said yes.  But ultimately, they said they were not able to join us in the plan (time conflicted with senior trip for Tyler).  I figured they didn't want to join such a mysterious trip with no details at all.

So Friday arrives, the day of our flight to the mystery destination.  We're sitting in my dining room and we have our 4.8 earthquake.  Of course, we didn't know what it was at first.  Luckily it did not affect our flight.  Last earthquake NYC had was many years ago.  I was at work in my cafeteria.  The next minute my glass of water flew off my tray and hit the floor.  I wasn't even sure what had happened. 

So off to the airport.  i still don't know where we're going; and I'm very willing to be kept in the dark.

We arrive at our destination after a two-hour flight.  I still don't know where I am (I haven't looked at any of the welcome arrival signs.  But I do finally see that we are in Romulus, MI, just off the Detroit airport route.  So, Trevor tells me to Google the "Jihad Center of the U.S."  Trevor certainly did his homework on the best middle eastern restaurants in that area.  He walks us into this little inconspicuous takeout type restaurant.  WOW!!!  what a treat.  Fabulous food!!!  

So off we go and check into a hotel in that Romulus section.  Nicely appointed hotel.  Trevor says, this is only the first stop in our journey.  Ok.  So, we have one overnight.  Trevor teaches a lesson in the early morning from the Business Center in the Lobby and then says he is going to pick up the rental car.  

I get a text soon after that he has the car and to come down with all my stuff.  when I go down to the parking lot outside of the hotel, there he is with the car.  When I walk up to the passenger side, there is a man in that seat.  Huh???  It's Trevor's Hunter College Highschool and Yale buddy who has flown in from California.  OMG!!!  Arafin.  The nicest Sri Lanken guy you ever met.  Really smart.  He says he doesn't know where Trevor is taking him and that's how he wants it.  

So, off we go in the car.  at one point I start taking photos of the road we're on and then sending them to Melissa and tell her I still do not know where we are going.  But, I can see we're in Ohio.

We finally arrive at a large house.  An Airbnb rental (except, I really don't think it is -- I think the owners live there and just happen to be away in Florida).  And why do I think this?  Well, it's because they have photo frames sitting all over the place in the most illogical places.  In fact, one of them fell and the glass broke.  We are in Huron, Ohio.  the property manager walks us through the house, gives the keys to Trevor, and leaves.

We're settling in in the kitchen.  The next thing, Melissa walks into the kitchen with her partner.  OMG!!!  I thought they couldn't come.  and moments later, my two grandsons walk in.  !!!!!

So, this whole mystery trip was to see a total eclipse.  We really had a nice time and saw the eclipse first hand.  We ate, laughed, and had a really nice time.

Gosh I love the NYC Subway!!!

 Gosh I love the NYC Subway!!!

3/19/25:

Well, this morning was interesting. I got to my Subway platform. And there's a black man with his pants all the way down to his ankles and he's squatting on the platform and looks like he's defecating.  so I avoid him and I get on the train quickly.  Then I look through the window to see if, in fact, he is defecating. But he's no longer there because he's on my train now, with his pants all the way down to his ankles. You couldn't even tell that he had no pants around because his skin was like grey.  And people would get on not realizing, getting ready to sit next to him, and then became alert.  And they'd make faces of alarm, and that was kind of amusing, but this went on until we got to Times Square.  Women's faces of disgust; a man's face of disbelief.  He kept looking at him and shaking his head to me.  The thing with these guys is that they're so out of it, whether on drugs or mental illness, and they don't even know how to pull their pants up. He was fussing with the tie on the waist of his pants for like 30 minutes (down at his ankles, of course).  He couldn't get it right. And I didn't see how he got off.  Whether the pants were still down to his ankles when he got off at Times Square.

 4/3/25:

Ah, another pleasant ride on the New York City subways this morning.

So, I usually take the #3 at 125^th Street because I catch it only two stops from its last stop.  So, it’s usually pretty empty.  But, this morning the #2 showed up and it had one seat available on the 2-seater next to the connecting cars and the door at the end of the car.  I got on and sat next to a woman.

So, we didn’t even travel one stop when she turns to me sweetly and asks, “are you ok?”  I figured I must be clearing my throat and sniffing.  I respond that I’m fine; that it’s only allergies, and I thank her.  I take my kindle out and start reading my novel.

We are pulling into 34^th St. (5 stops later) and she says something to me, but I don’t catch what she said.  And, seconds after saying whatever she said, she snatches my kindle out of my hands and flings it across the car.  It lands near the doors on our opposite side that are about to open at 34^th St.  The kindle cover cracks loudly on the floor and the kindle falls out of it.  I say to her, “what is wrong with you?” and then I hurry to pick up my kindle and cover.  Someone gets up from the seats by that door diagonal to her to get off the train.  I take that seat.  I inspect the kindle and put it back in its cover.  It seems that it’s ok, but I’ll have to check it further.  From that point on the woman is ranting at me.  She is so angry.  I tell her to take a nap, but then decide it is very unwise to even respond to this lunatic.  The woman across from me is shaking her head at me in acknowledgement of what just happened.  The two women who are sitting across from the crazy woman get up and walk to the other side of the car and sit elsewhere.

So, she continues ranting and cursing at me.  I can’t even catch everything she is saying (probably a blessing).  F__king this; f__king that.  She hopes I go into a f__ing hole and never come out.  Hey, I’m talking to you!!!!  (I’m ignoring her).  F__king grey haired bitch!!!  I hate f__king grey haired bitches.  )*&^)*&^06m (^)&^(&^%(6 _(*&)*(&)&* *&%$*$&^%$

I start wondering whether she’ll attempt to attack me physically.  And, with this thought, I start wondering what I can use as my weapon.  Well, my elbows are sharp.  I could give her a quick elbow jab in her chest or her ribs. 

Anyway, Chambers Street comes up (my train changing station) and I make sure to walk as far away from her as is possible lest she decide to lunge at me and do some other damage.

Whew.  I was a bit off by the time I arrived at work. 

A day in New York City subways.  J

PS:  So it seems I annoy people even when I’m not speaking to them or having any discourse with them whatsoever.  She was just annoyed at my existence.

PPS:  So, now I'm seriously considering whether I should look into some self defense classes for weak osteoporotic grey haired bitches.  

 

On Da SBS #15 bus

On Da Bus 

So, I was on the SBS #15 bus on the way to 29th Street and 2nd avenue.  I was seated in the very first seat (closest to the driver) on the four-seater on the right side of the bus.  There were three men seated to my left.  Thus filling those four seats.  

As we approached the next stop, I looked forward and saw through the window that there was a woman outside with a walker.  I knew she would need the seats that we were in as they are held for the handicapped passengers.  I got up and moved across the aisle to the other four seater and sat in the one seat that was available.  Again, the seat closest to the front of the bus, but now on the left side of the bus.

The fellow who had been sitting next to me decided to slide over and sit in the seat I had just vacated.  ???  Why???

The bus driver lowered the platform at the door for the woman.  The woman got on.  On her walker were six bags, all hanging from her walker.  And, she also had some contraption at the top side of the walker.  Don’t know what it was for  Maybe it contained hooks for more bags?  I don’t know how she was able to lift the walker as she walked on the sidewalk, nor how she lifted it to get into the bus.  Everything looked pretty heavy.  She shoved her way through the aisle and sat in the one seat in the middle that was empty.  Of course her walker was so wide with all the bags hanging from it that it was impossible for her to fit in the one seat.  A guy on the far end of the four seater got up.  The other guy on the far end slid further away.  The woman shoved herself into two seats and brought up her bags (which were still attached to the walker.  She filled the entire two seats and even overflowed into both side seats.

The guy in the first seat who slid over to my vacated seat looked very annoyed as the woman was totally in his way.  He finally got up and could barely achieve that because the woman’s bags were all in his way.  He got up and walked toward the back shaking his head.

Eventually more older people got on and one woman took the seat that the annoyed guy had vacated.  More older people got on and then the guy next to me got up to give up his seat to them.

So, continuing with the walker woman.  She now started rummaging gently into one bag closest to her.  She eventually drew out a very long bag that looked like a loaf of bread.  Crinkle, crinkle of the paper bag, then it looked like she tore off a small piece, put it in the open purse type bag on her lap.  More crinkle, crinkle and the paper bag of bread was once again replaced into the plastic bag that hung on her walker.  This search, find, and replace mission took an excessive amount of time.  Now the woman reached to the furthest bag, which was on the outside of her walker (she had to stretch) and there was more rummaging.  Eventually, she brought out what looked like a plastic sleeve with cheese.  She very carefully went into the package and removed what I assumed were some slices of cheese.  All the while she was doing all this search mission, the remaining guy to her left looked over every once in a while, as she was intruding into his space when she went into her food mission.  He had his cell phone out.  Now the woman became intrigued with his cell phone and stopped rummaging to stare at his phone.  The guy felt this and looked sideways at her.  Ok, now into the other bag on the outside of her walker she goes.  Dig, dig, dig.  Out comes what looks like a thermos.  She brings it close to her and unscrews it and starts to pour it into a cup.  The guy looks at her as if she is now going to spill it all over him.  She places the lid on the cup and I see that it is a gigantic cup like from Starbucks for the large size.  She replaces the thermos with some difficulty while jostling the guy next to her.  

So, he either had to get off the bus or decided to walk to the back and not get her coffee sloshed all over him.

So, now she has an empty seat to her left.  She gets out these wires (I thought maybe they were headphone wires).  She gets one end and stretches into the seat the guy just vacated and plugs her USB into the bus’s outlet.  I didn’t even know the bus had that.  I’ve never seen one in a city bus.  So now, it looks like she has rustled up her food and has her cell phone plugged in.  She begins to enjoy the labor of her efforts.  

I found this entire scenario exceedingly amusing.  From the annoyed first guy who shook his head and got up, to the methodical extricating of food and drink, to the woman reading the second guy’s cellphone, and lastly to plugging in her cell phone after she had chased everyone away with her antics and her need for a lot of space.

Flight & Uber From Hell !!!!!

 Flight and Uber From Hell!!!!!!

Ok, so I figured, I have to get to JFK.  I'd better allow enoough time for unforeseen catastrophies.  Like what?  Oh, well, some examples might be, like some nut activating the brakes on the subway; track maintenance at the worst time possible; or....just a simple every-day train breakdown.

So, I awoke on my own at 4:30am.  "Ok, I might as well stay up."  I was hoping to leave the apartment at 6:30am for an 11am flight.  So, it was minimal packing ("yeah; airlines no longer give me free seats or allow me one carry on and one personal item free.  What the hell!!!  My sister got a free seat and a free carry on with an economy ticket."}  I must be blacklisted.  Somewhere on every airline site there must be an instruction like, "Don't give this person anything free.  Make it as difficult for her to buy a ticket and choose seats.  No carry on either."  

So actually, the flight went very smoothly.  I left my apartment at 6:30am and the flight was great.  Well...actually not 100% great.  The flight was filled with so many passengers, and lots and lots of small children.  It took over 45 minutes to get all of them boarded.  I couldn't believe the stream of passengers getting on.  Now, I love small children.  But on a flight, it can become an issue.

There was a boy seated behind me.  Maybe 4 or 5 years old, but I think maybe the former.  He kicked the back of my chair continuously for the entire 2 + hr flight.  And, when his mom would tell him something, he would have a tantrum which caused heavy kicking on the back of my seat.  Oy veh!!!  And, in front of me was an even younger child (3 years old?  2 years old?) who cried continuously for the entire flight except for the last half hour when she fell asleep.

So, I arrived in Tampa.  I followed the signs for pickup.  And then the task of ordering an Uber.  Should be easy, right?  Wrong!  I could not get the app to work.  No connection, even though I had changed my cell from airplane mode.  Nothing!  I can't imagine how much time was wasted with this operation.  I finally ended up having to turn my phone off two separate times.  Still nothing.  Then I turned on airplane mode back on (also twice), and finally, I got a connection.  Hallelujah!!!  So, I enter Tampa airport and blue express pickup, and the app automatically changes it to American Airlines.  Once again I go through this ridiculous task.  Finally, I'm so frustrated.  I figure I must be incompetent.  I go up three flights to Information.  I ask for help.  She does the same thing I did, and the same thing is happening to her.  Wha??  Finally she has success and TPA Airport comes up on the dropdown and she chooses it.  Happiness for small successes.  I hurry back down the three flights and request the Uber at $110.  The pickup spot on the app switches it to three flights up at baggage.  NO!!!!  I text the driver that I do not have baggage and am down on the bottom level Blue Express, door 103.  He says, "got it."

Ok, the rest of the trip is fine.  It's about a 1.5 hr trip.  But when we get close the driver seems to be driving around and around and passing now streets that are now becoming familiar streets.  Of course, he doesn't say anything to me.  I keep seeing the remaining miles on the GPS getting smaller and smaller.  Then suddenly they are increasing.  I ask "can't you find it?"  He says, "it's ok."  He is latin and I'm not sure if he speaks English well, or at all.  He is very soft spoken.  He's looking at the GPS and wondering and wondering and then he's ready to turn into an unpaved sandy road.  But I tell him, "they live in a very residential area; I don't think this is the way."  So, around and around we go again.  Again, the same thing happens with the GPS (i.e. miles get smaller, then larger).  Somehow, he ends up at the same spot we were at before (the sandy road).  We've wasted around 45 minutes now just driving around and around.  And this time he drives into that road.  Why???  I don't know!!!!  Then he makes a U turn to return to the road he had been at.  Then we stop.  And, very quietly he puts his temple down on his hand and stays like that.  I asked, "are we stuck?"  Yes.

We are deeply seated in sand.  Now he tries and tries to get the car out, but it won't budge.  I finally get out of the car to see if I can assist and see what a mess it is.  There is so much sand.  And, the car is really in deep.  Now he's on his cell talking to someone.  Whomever he's talking to suggests he pour water at the tire.  He does this with an itsy bitsy bottle of water.  Of course, it accomplishes nothing.  He even asks me if I have family there (I intuit that he's hoping my family will come and pull him out).  I say I do, but that I'm going to a memorial and can't call them.

My driver (click on link)

So, just to give you a sense of my timing.  I landed at about 1:50.  Then the nonsense with the cellphone connection.  And he picked me up at the airport at about 3:05.  It is now nearing 6.  I should have been at my destination at 4:30 or so.

I now start collecting dead and crisp moss from the side of the road and pine cones to put under the tire.  It does nothing.  He continues talking to his friend and getting suggestions from him on how to get out.  I have no idea what those suggestions are.  But nothing is helping.  And now we've wasted another 45 minutes.  

I finally decide to walk down to the paved road and walk to the nearest house and ring a bell.  I do that and a dog starts barking hysterically.  But, eventually an older gentleman answers and I explain that I've just arrived from the airport and my Uber driver got lost and is now stuck in the sand.  I ask if he has anything that might help to get him out. He hands me a shovel and I thank him and walk back to the car.  But the shovel is not really helping because the driver's car is so deep in the sand.  A little while later, the local resident comes by with a long stick and some fabric type of thing.  He sticks that fabric under the wheel.  He's also trying to communicate with the driver in semi Spanish.  He's doing a pretty good job with that.  He says his name is Eduardo.  I ask if he is latin and he says no.  His middle name is Edward and he just Spanglizised (sp?) it.

He and I stand on the side finally while the driver is still talking to his friend and trying different things.  Eduardo asks me where I'm from and we start to chat.  He's a native New Yorker, then moved upstate, and then moved to Florida.  He asks me what the address is that I'm trying to get to.  I give it to him and he looks it up on his phone.  He says, "I could take you there.  It's 3.2 miles away."  I feel bad leaving the poor driver stuck there, but I really want to get to my family.  I walk with Eduardo to his house while he tells his wife he's taking me to my destination.  

So, we take off in his car and he asks for my phone so he can put it on his console while he drives me.  I remind myself to remember to take my phone.  He finds it pretty easily.  I am so relieved when he finally finds the house.  I thank him profusely and go in the house.  

As I'm greeting everyone and trying to get myself settled and connect all my devices I can't find my phone.  I feel my stress building again.  The waves of stress are just rising up my body.  My niece advises me to look in my pockets, etc.  I don't have it.  I always keep my cell phone on vibrate.  But I call my cell number from my sisters phone anyway.  No one answers.  I'm really agitated now.  Everyone is sort of accepting the fact that I have now lost my phone and I'll need to replace it.  But, I'm not accepting this.  I'm really upset.  I have a lot of stuff on that phone, including photos.  I try my cell again.  A woman answers in a sort of confrontational voice and says "This is Wayne's wife!"  Whew!!!  I gush at her in happiness that she has answered and as I'm about to ask about picking it up, my grand niece steps in and takes over the call and says she'll drive to him to pick it up.  But, Eduardo says he will bring it to me.  I ask my grand niece to get his cell number.

And, so, Eduardo (a/k/a Wayne Edward) drove back to me and brought me the phone.

My travels for a 2.5 hour flight has taken me 12 hours.  I am emotionally exhausted.

the next day I received my Uber receipt for $180, instead of the $110 I requested.  So, for the rest of the week I have been corresponding with Uber support to reduce that cost based on the circumstances and the fact that the driver never ended up bringing me to my destination.  That was another headache as you need to do this solely through your app.  And, it's an automated response that you receive that actually doesn't resolve anything.  The automated response kept asking for additional information and I just copied what I had already sent (which included everything) and pasted it.  Over, and over.  They never answered.  On Saturday 5 days after this occurred, I once again started trying to contact them and go through the same process.  Someone from Uber finally called me on my cell, and YES, I actually answered it.  He offered to put the entire $180 on my Uber cash.  I asked if that was like a store credit.  He said yes.  I said no; I don't want that.  "why don't you put the additional cost of $70 for the 1.5 hour ride-around-lost and then stuck in sand time as a refund to my credit card.  And, even though the driver didn't drive me to my destination, I'll pay the $110.  He then said he would put the entire $180 as a refund to my credit card.  Whew!  one more problem taken care of.

You know the flight and fight response symptoms?  That's what I was feeling throughout this entire fiasco.  Once Eduardo brought me my cell phone, and I knew I was at my destination and could now chill, I literally felt a wave of stress pass down my body.  

I began to unwind.....

Some Dangers of Lugging Around Too Much Stuff

Venmo v. Paypal v. Zelle v. Here's Your Damn Cash!!

I'm going to be owing money on a regular basis to a close family member of mine, let's call him Joe Schmo.  He added a cell phone line to his account.  I asked him to let me know the exact amount that I owed him when he got his T-Mobile bill.  But, he never did.  I kept asking him for the amount, but he, for some reason, was not forthcoming with the amount.  Finally, I owed him about three months of T-Mobile service.   I told him I was just going to guess at an amount and pay him.  

He asked me to pay him what I owed him through Venmo.  I didn't have a Venmo account.  I only had a PayPal account (which I wasn't crazy about).  I don't like having to give my bank account information to an outside service.  I asked, "can I transfer the funds via Zelle to your Citibank account?"  The answer was a resounding "NO!  I don't use that account for receiving payments."  The next thing I asked was, "Well, I already have a PayPal account.  May I transfer the funds with that, since I already have cash sitting there for eons of time?"  I received another resounding "NO!  Don't give me more work to do.  I already have enough work and trying to simplify things for myself".  So, lastly, I asked him for his Venmo account link.  He says, "It's my cell phone number."

So, at this point, I see no other way.  So, I begin a Venmo account from my computer.  Once I do this, I am asked to add my friends to it.  What is this, Facebook????  I try to bring up Joe Schmo, and there seem to be two of them.  I, once again, ask Joe for his Venmo account link so that I can add the correct him.  Another resounding "NO."  Nothing more.  So, I think to myself, "Well, that's it.  I'm not going to waste any more of my time on this any longer, since Joe is not being very helpful in this transaction.  He's getting cash."  

The very day that I visited him, I took the cash in an envelope, with the breakdown of my expenses written on the face of the envelope, and slapped it on the keyboard of his lap top.  Coincidentally, it seems that that very day, earlier in the morning, Joe had finally sent me his Venmo account link.  I hadn't seen it.  In any event, it was too late.  I had already taken the cash out of the ATM machine.  

But, since this was going to be an on-going payment. I thought I might as well set up the Venmo account completely.  Especially now, since Joe had given me his Venmo link.

This was my experience setting up my Venmo account from my computer at home.  And, I sent Joe the following e-mail.

Subject: Friggin' Venmo

So, I sign into Venmo on my computer.  I then add you as a friend.  I click on you and that’s when I see all your payments and notify you of it.  They are all publicly viewable.  I add my bank card information (I'm not very happy about that, but they charge a percentage fee for every other kind of payment).  I then have to look around to see how to make a payment.  It is not clearly shown. 

I finally get to a place for that and there’s a message that if I want to make a payment through venmo.com they are discontinuing it and if I want to make a payment that way, I’ll need to get the app.  They give me a link.  Google Play (or Store?) or App Store.  I try App Store first.  But, they say my device is not compatible.  I then go to Google Play.  I find the app I want.  There’s a message on the screen saying that my device is compatible for that app.  Great!  I click “install.”  It immediately brings up my Samsung for it to be added to (that’s my cell phone, not my pc where I am doing this from).  I wanted the app on my pc. But that choice is not there.

Now I have to go into the kitchen and get my cell.  I have to look in every hidey hole on the cell for Venmo and finally find it.  I go to install it and it forces me to logon to Venmo from my cell.  Once I attempt that, I get the alert message that they are going to send me a verification code to make sure it is indeed me.  Sheesh‼‼  I go through that whole scenario and finally get the friggin app on my cell.  I WANTED IT ON MY PC‼‼  Then I find that you are not a friend on my cell Venmo (even though I added you successfully on my pc Venmo account).  So, I have to, once again, add you as a friend.  The system brought in all my contacts so that I could make payments to them.  Why would I want that?  And, it gave me the option of having all my payments be viewed publicly.  Why the hell would I want that?  It’s idiotic.  I canceled that.  then I “finally” made the payment.  To someone named Joe Schmo.  Since you haven’t yet confirmed receiving the $100, I presume that another Joe Schmo is enjoying my $100 and buying something frivolous.

So, that whole chore is done.  I then see I have some new e-mails.  There are warning e-mails that “someone” logged into my account from a Samsung.  Then another e-mail asking me if my Samsung should be remembered and not cause me to have to log in every time and receive a verification code.  And yet more e-mails from Venmo because they are so afraid that someone else is using my Venmo from a Samsung cell phone.

If Venmo is so concerned about fraud, etc., and pretends it has no knowledge of any of my devices, then why did it only give me the option to install the app to my exact Samsung Galaxy S7??????? ??????????????  I ask you that‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼!

My Adventures into the Wilds of Brooklyn

So, let me tell you about my little spree I went on last night.

My sister had been in the hospital for close to a week, unable to walk, inflammation on her vertebrae, etc., etc.  She finally was discharged and is back home by Friday.  But, I’m worried about her overdoing it, at home by herself.  I know that her husband will be back at work on Monday and her children will have departed (they were visiting) the same day she returned home from the hospital.

So, I thought, despite the fact that I haven’t visited her apartment for ages because she has cats, and I’m highly allergic, I think I have to make an effort to get over there and see how I can assist her.

So, I make my plans to go on Tuesday, after all, I don’t have chorus rehearsal yet (I haven’t heard from them, so we probably won’t resume for another week).  So, while I’m sitting at the office I receive a cheery e-mail from the chorus reminding us that we have a rehearsal that night.  CRAP!!!  I totally neglected to check to see when we would resume.  Oh, well, my sister is more important.  I send out my absence regrets with apologies.  Then a chorus mate has the temerity to ask, “What’s so important that you have to miss the first chorus rehearsal?”  Geeeez!!!!  I relay a brief explanation to her about my sister, and she totally understands (and agrees).  Thank you very much!

So, during the day I’m Googling what the best way to arrive at Carnarsie is.  I find that there is an express bus that goes pretty close to her, culminating in a 12 minute walk to finalize the trip.  Hmmmm??  I had no idea there was one.  My sister seems to live in a secluded section of Brooklyn with very little subway service close by other than the L train.  But, I’ve never taken an express bus.  And, additionally, I know that I can’t use my unlimited MTA card because that’s only for the regular buses or trains.  Ultimately, I decide to take the W train up to 14^th Street and then the dreaded L train all the way over to Carnarsie.  Then the B42 for the final leg of the trip. 

I run down both subway escalators and manage to just jump on the W train seconds before the doors close.  Whew!!!  That’s a blessing.  Especially since there were so many slow-moving people in front of me.  I guess they are not going to anything exciting because they walk like they have lard in their pants.  I even considered stepping up and sliding down the middle chrome-top section of the escalator, but knew I’d never make it without injuring myself badly.  Hence, my sister would then need to take care of me.  Once I arrive at 14^th Street, I have to navigate the platform endlessly to find the very hidden staircase to the L train.  Why is it so obscure????  Once again, the train arrives moments after my feet hit the L platform.  I scurry up the platform toward the front of the train and get a reasonable standing spot.  Then soon after I get a seat.  Yay!!!  This is going much better than I thought.  [smile]

So, let me step back a moment so that I can explain what my plan was to overcome any possibility of having the cats affect me.  I thought it would be a good plan to bring my construction mask with me.  Of course‼  It’s a heavy construction mask; not one of those flimsy thin ones.  Then, of course, a dose of my strong antihistamines.  I thought it would also be good to enclose any clothes that I was wearing and all my belongings in a large recycling bag..  It is my experience wherever I go where there are pets that the pets take an immediate liking to me, or perhaps just a strong dose of .curiosity such as, “who is this person who is totally ignoring me?”  Hence, they always sidle up to me, jump on my lap, sit on the seat that I’m at, rub their fur all over my legs (or my arms, if I’m sitting).  So, if I have all my stuff in a bag,, I won’t come away with all sorts of cat hair when I leave.  I also brought a bag with a jacket that my sister left at my apartment about one year ago.  So, I have my purse (totally filled with “stuff”), a shoulder bag (filled with more stuff — Kindle, cell phone, and totally unnecessary stuff), and my sister’s bag with her jacket.

So, onward with my story.  As I said before, I haven’t been to my sister’s apartment in many, many years.  The last time I was there, I remember that there was a huge parking lot just before you arrived at her building.  So, this was an easy marker to identify her building.  Her apartment is just alongside the Belt Parkway.  My sister did remind me, “remember, my building is the building before the last building.”  She also gave me the key code to punch in at the front entrance door of the building in order to get into the lobby.  Or, she said I could go through the back, which is not locked.  Except, the door has no doorknob.  You have to pull on the window grating to get the door open. 

Right then and there, I decided that I would opt for the front entryway.  Opening a door using the window grating didn’t sound like an attractive option to me.  Besides, that back door would be alongside the huge (and dark) parking lot.  And, thinking of safety precautions, I felt that the front door was the safer way to go.

So, as I indicated earlier in this totally boring (TO YOU) but amusing (TO ME) dialog, my subway trip was a breeze.  Got there smoothly and quickly.  Jumped on the B42 bus, which took us all the way to the last stop.  At this point I asked the driver if I could ride with him around the loop that he takes to the first stop of the return trip.  He found this request quite amusing.  Not sure why.  But, anyway, I stayed with him.  Then got off on the side of my sister’s apartment complex.

Next. . . to find the building.  The entire apartment complex is under construction.  It’s night time and very dark.  There are not very many lamp posts to light the way.  In other words, it’s extremely dark.  There is scaffolding everywhere.  And small pass-through areas through all the construction.  Everything is totally dark and secluded.  Not a soul around.  I hear someone walking behind me and I go into high alert.  But then a car comes driving toward me on the sidewalk (yes, on the sidewalk) and there’s no space for me to walk on it too.  So I have to step to the side to let the car pass by.  It’s a police car.  The person behind me passes me.  Good.  Now, to find the building.  I’m looking all over for the remembered parking lot.  But, I can’t see it.  I do see a very large complex that looks like an indoor skating rink.  Hmmm??  I don’t remember ever seeing that.  I wonder if it has always been there.  The sidewalk is totally secluded, except for the parked cars alongside it.  And then the Belt Parkway.  So, I really do not want to walk out to the sidewalk.  It looks too dark and isolated.  Not that there are any more people around where I am.  The entire area is isolated.

I walk a little further and decide that perhaps the building to the left of that skating-rink-like complex is my sister’s building.  But, of course, I can’t see the building number because it’s obliterated by all the scaffolding.  Hmmm??  Not good.  I go up to the front entrance and key in the code my sister gave me.  The door pops open.  Yay!  It must be the correct building.  So, I make a left and go all the way down the hall to my sister’s door.  I look at the door to see if their last name is listed on the name plate section.  It is not.  It is blank.  This has got to be it.  I remove the recycling bag (a 30 gallon bag) and take off my jacket and scarf and shove it into the bag, then in goes my shoulder bag, and the bag holding my sister’s jacket.  Out comes my construction mask and on it goes.  I also take out my eyeglasses (I’m going to need them inside and don’t want to start opening the bag inside the apartment).  I prop the eyeglasses on the top of my head and put on the mask.  I use the knocker and knock on the door (there’s no bell).  In a short while a tall man answers the door.  Not my sister, nor my brother-in-law.  I thought he might be visiting my sister.  I say, “Janice?”  He says “no.”  He reminds me of an actor who usually plays a detective role.  Can’t think of a name.  But maybe like a Lawrence Fishburn.  I spout the address and the fact that I can’t see any of the numbers due to all the scaffolding.  He says, “no, that’s the next building.”  Here I am in this getup, with my mask on, and the 30 gallon bag in my arms with all its innards falling to each side and my arm in the middle.  He doesn’t have any reaction whatsoever to my getup.  Not even a blink.  I apologize and leave.

 

I still do not want to walk out to the sidewalk (for the same reason as before).  So, since the guy said it was at the next building, I walk to the next building.  I never removed my mask, nor put my jacket back on.  So, I’m walking around with the mask and no jacket, carrying this 30 gallon bag of “stuff.”  I go to the front entryway, key in the code, and the door pops open.  So much for security.  All the buildings use the same code.  There is a young guy inside the lobby of this building.  As the door pops open, he also comes to the door and says, “I opened it for you.”  I thank him and wonder, does he want a tip?  Once again, I walk to the left and down the very long hallway to my sister’s door.  I go through the same process of using the knocker.  But, this time, there is no answer.  The young guy is still in the front lobby and is talking.  But, I can’t make out what he is saying, nor if he is talking to me, or perhaps on a cell phone.  I did say, “what?” one time, but he didn’t respond.  So, I assume he is talking to someone else. 

 At this point, I decide that it might be a good idea to get my cell phone out and call my sister and ask where the building is.  I do this, after untying the knot in the recycling bag and fishing into my bags to get it.  Of course, I am not getting a signal.  I decide not to return the cell phone to the bag, but now hang it around my wrist in the hopes that I will get a signal once I’m outside.  I do not.

 At this point, I realize that I’m going to have to actually walk out to the ignored sidewalk and figure out which building is the building before last.  This time I pull the mask to the side and I actually put my jacket back on.  After all, it’s winter.  I go to yet another building.  I don’t see any parking lot around.  I don’t know where it is.  I go to the front and key in the code.  Once again (the third time), the door pops open.  Turn to the left and down the hall I go.  Off comes the jacket, stuff it back in the recycling bag, on goes the mask.  This door has a bell.  I ring it, with some trepidation.  Alas, my sister answers it.

I’ve arrived‼‼‼

 

As I anticipated, the cats are all around me.  They are so curious as to who I am and want to come close sniffing.  My sister took precautions and separated a sheet that I should place on a chair that the cats had not been on.  But, every time I got up, I would also remove the sheet.  It was necessities to be remembered at every action.

 

So, I prepared dinner for my sister.  Then my brother-in-law arrived.  I prepared dinner for him.  There were such huge amounts of fresh vegetables.  OMG!!!  My niece bought food enough for an army.  I cooked some of the vegetables for a later use and washed about a half bunch of bok choy (there were still 1 huge head and a half).  What was my niece thinking???? 

 

So, it came time to go rather soon.  I had a heated discussion with my sister about Uber v. public transportation home.  Of course, there was minimal discussion as her cab company required cash and they didn't have it.  Nor did I.  And, besides, I thought it was such a waste of cash.  So, I won the discussion.  I asked my brother-in-law to walk me to the bus stop and I made my way home to Astoria.  The trip was not as long as I had anticipated.

 

I'm still in one piece.  Hopefully, I didn't cause my sister to do more work as a result of my arriving.  LOL

 

 

Why I Switched to Alternative Medicine

Well, you asked‼  It’s a little lengthy to explain, since it has been going on for many years.  Since I’m drafting all of this, perhaps I’ll enter it into my blog.  Ha, ha.

So, the conventional doctors (western medicine) say:

·        Go to an allergist!

·        The allergists (I went to two of them) put me on weekly injections of the things I was allergic to.  Did it for two straight years.  So, I walked around with two Popeye bumps on my biceps.  Very painful.  Meanwhile, I didn’t see any change or improvement.  Then I became pregnant and stopped.  Afterwards, I picked up once again for another two years (no improvement).  I stopped during a second pregnancy.  Then I never resumed them.  They weren’t making a bit of difference.

·        Obstetrician (for Trevor):  When I went into labor and arrived at the hospital (after calling my doctor), he was not on call and I had to pick his partner (an American/Italian with pointy shoes).  This doctor totally ignored me (I’m 10 centimers dilated) until Trevor’s father has to go and get him and say (while he’s just filling out charts), “Doctor, I think you’d better come in.”  To which the doctor says, “there’s plenty of time.”  And Victor says, “Doctor, come in now, the head is crowning.”  At which point he is all flustered, rolls me into the delivery room on an emergency stretcher and doesn’t even have time to transfer me to the actual bed in the delivery room.  He botches up my episiotomy, runs out of thread, is perspiring with stress, while I soothe him and tell him I’m alright and to take it easy (and he rethreads the needle).  Meanwhile, Victor (Trevor’s dad) is turning green and someone has to take him out of the room to sit down somewhere.  I had trouble healing from his botch up for a long time (close to a year).

·        Obstetrician (for Melissa:  I chose one in Brooklyn who had a good reputation):  His office was like a conveyor line.  When I left I asked the front desk for a receipt for my payment.  The administrator says, “The doctor is too busy to give you a receipt.  Your cancelled check will be your receipt.”  To which I responded, “I’m too busy to write a check, if the doctor’s too busy to give me a receipt.”

·        Obstetrician #2 (for Melissa).  I chose one in Staten Island this time.  I explained my previous experience with other doctors

·        Obstetrician (for Melissa):  I advised him how fast I give birth and warn him about it and tell him to go to the hospital as soon as I call him.  He doesn’t.  Even the nurse, upon arrival was annoyed at the doctor for not showing.  They had called him about three times and the nurse told me that he lived about 10 minutes away.  This time I chose a Cuban doctor (I didn't know any of the doctors on call and had to choose one of them).  This doctor was very gentle and didn't mind my asking questions.  He waited in the delivery room with me for my actually doctor to arrive.  We were all in the delivery room and my doctor had still not arrived.  Finally this doctor (Dr. Perez) said "we can't wait for him any longer."  Dr. Perez did a wonderful job with the delivery.  I was fine afterwards with no pain (like the first time).  My actual doctor finally sauntered in 20 minutes after Melissa's delivery.  I was so furious with him.  He was all smiley and happy for me, as if he hadn't done anything wrong.  I was supposed to give him the last payment for his services, but I didn't want to.  I arranged, through my health insurance to give it to Dr. Perez.  Dr. Perez said, "we do this as a courtesy for the other doctors."  I told him, "no, I want to pay you, not my doctor who didn't even bother to show for Melissa's delivery."  My doctor (can't remember his name any longer) was furious with me and came into my room later to argue with me.  He said I wasn't a doctor and didn't know what was going on.  I said, "oh, I think I did."

·        ENT:  take antibiotics for the sinusitis and bronchitis. 

·        ENT:  “Have a sinuplasty surgery.  I do many of them.”

·        ENT (the same one and maybe a year later, or at my next sinus and bronchial infection bout):  “I wouldn’t recommend sinuplasty.  I don’t think it would help.”  To which  I responded, “but you recommended it the last time I saw you.”  ENT:  “But, you haven’t had many episodes of sinusitis.  I wouldn’t recommend it at this time.”  She prescribes antibiotics.

·        ENT (the same one, at the next bout visit):  “So, when are you going to have surgery?”  Me:  “huh?  You said you didn’t recommend it.”  ENT:  “yes, but now you’ve had sinusitis three times this year, so I would recommend it.”

·        One year later:  After much researching and consideration, I set up an appointment with the same ENT for surgery.  When I arrive and she checks me (this is the pre-surgery examination) she says, “I don’t think your condition supports surgery.”

·        Duh??????