Home & Family

Windsor, NC has its own city zoo. It’s amazing and it’s free. This is the perfect time of year for a “Hey! How are ya?” to the bison and goats. Admittedly, today it’s in the mid-70s and my original thought was about a swamp-side fall picnic, but grab for the temperate gusto and wear shorts instead of down-filled jackets. Val and I made one of our first ever photography sojourns to Windsor and there’s a photo on my wife’s desk of there.

Well, it was love at first sight for Val and Ruth. Val’s birthday present arrived around noon today and she and her mom were positively giddy about it. Watching Val pull the lightweight machine from its box — I couldn’t believe how happy the two appeared. Both of them gasped with delight as each element of the sewing machine revealed itself. Val is downstairs watching the How-to DVD. She looked up from the “show” to tell Ruth, “Give me 24 hours. Then I show it to you.” Ruth literally clapped her hands in joy. Who knew I could make the two of them so incredibly happy with this Overstock.com purchase. Ruth helped Val pick it out online. More on this soon, as new pillows, drapes, duvet covers and other wonderful Val-made pieces appear in our house.

I didn’t expect to return to work today. Val was scheduled for her second spinal block and I took her to Beaufort County Hospital and intended to wait while she had the procedure done. It’s a horrid invasive surgical procedure, a cervical spinal block. The anesthesiologist gives Val a local anesthetic before he inserts a needle into her neck but not over-all sedation. Eastern Radiology did her first series of epidurals and they gave her a couple valium pre-surgery. Not at BCH. So it takes Val a bit to prepare herself for the pain… concentration to lower her blood pressure, mental prep, that kind of thing.

So we arrived a few minutes before the appointment time written on her radiology sheet from two weeks previous. Walked to the front “desk” and waited for admissions to call us in for the proper paperwork to take to radiology. We waited. We sat there and sat there. Uncomfortable chairs for me to sit in and I suspect unbelievably painful for Val. Almost an hour later, she’s called back to admitting. The woman working the desk can’t find her in the system. Val told her that two weeks ago, it took almost half an hour to find her appointment on the computer because radiology spelled her name so incorrectly that it was unrecognizable to the admitting clerk. The clerk called radiology to find out what to do with me. Radiology employee talked a bit, then the clerk said, “Do you want to talk to her?” At which time, Val said, she took the phone and she thinks she spoke to Jenny (she was too upset to remember) who said to her, “The doctor has gone home. It’s 2:30. You’re too late. Have you been sitting in the admissions lobby all this time?” Val said the woman had quite a superior tone to her voice. Val replied, “I’ve been in the lobby since 1:45.” Radiology said, “Your appointment was at 1:30 and you were supposed to come straight back here, we already have your paperwork.” Val: “No, it was at 1:45, I’m looking at the time right here on the sheet you gave me two weeks ago. No where does it say to walk straight back to radiology and skip admissions. No one TOLD me to come straight back to radiology.”

“Well… the doctor’s gone home. You’re too late. When can you come back?”

Val started to rev up her indignation engine. “My husband took time off from work to bring me here and wait for me so he could drive me home. You’re telling me I have to come back? I have to come back because YOU did not take the time to tell me how to check in? YOU did not check with admissions or try to call me when I didn’t show up? YOU SENT the DOCTOR HOME?”

“Yes. You’re too late. What day can you come back so we can reschedule? Is Thursday all right?”

This wouldn’t be so upsetting if the procedure wasn’t so terribly painful. I watched Val squirm and wriggle, trying to get comfortable, in those waiting room chairs. Watched her for 45 minutes. I can’t stand it when my wife is in pain. When her discomfort and fear is visible.

She’s comfortable now, upstairs snuggled on our old leather couch with an Elizabeth George mystery and a cup of tea. So, I’m going back to work.

Beaufort County Hospital radiology department staff? This is inexcusable. Get off your ass and check on people. If an out-patient isn’t in the radiology waiting room, perhaps you could lift a hand and call the admission’s desk. Or better yet — it’s a walk of maybe 100 feet. One hundred feet down a hallway, straight down — you don’t even have to turn a corner. Stop gossping about whether or not your kids play softball. Washington, NC patients deserve better care and compassion than what you exhibited this afternoon. Shame on you.

“It’s the day to vote America.” We’ve taught Ollie to proclaim the importance of November 6th. We vote in a “high-rise” small apartment building (public) filled with mostly elderly citizens — about a block from our house. Ollie thought he needed to “go in with Nana” so he took her hand and they went inside while I brought up the rear. Jane and Emmett stayed in the car as she’d already voted at the Rec Center near her home.

This is a totally biased hometown post.

I looked back down the sidewalk before going into the door. Jane had parked her car and I saw mother and child walking across small the parking lot to speak to someone she knew. It’s obvious you live in a small town when your middle-school gifted English class teacher recognizes you. Jane never forgot Mrs. Congleton, it wasn’t all sweetness and light (as Ruth puts it) when those two butted educational heads. The former teacher (now retired) pressed a small leaflet into Jane’s hand and reminded her that a vote for Dot Moate will bankrupt the city. Jane smiled and was quite gracious as Mrs. Congleton admired her children. Everyone knows “how long it’s been” so no one says it outloud.

I hurried inside to join Val. At the end of a short hallway, the door opened into a nice sitting area with three elderly men sitting on a couple couches. Ollie was explaining to them that “It’s the day to vote America” and he was going to vote. He then entertained them with a “look what I can do” stance and told them to “have a great day.” Ollie could charm the fur off a bear…

We voted. Archie Jennings for City Council. No argument there. Archie’s a decent man, decent as in loves his wife, takes care of his children, works hard… and he’s a damn fine person. We admire both he and his wife Lydie. Sincere and dedicated to making this town a good place in which to live. Hats off to Archie!

Val told me, as we walked back to the car, that many people were writing in Don Stroud for mayor, since Judy Jennette’s reign and obvious back-handed wink-wink-nod-nod do-goodery is getting on their nerves. She’s running unopposed for mayor. Much is the pity… looks like Beaufort County Community College’s Director of Public Relations won’t be getting in a forty hour college-based work week any time soon. One of my neighbor’s told me, just the other day, about how he tried to get a hold of Miz Jennette for weeks on end about a scholarship dispersal — only to finally talk to someone in a completely different department who had to handle it.

Judy Meier Jennette, Director of Public Relations/Executive Director Foundation
Office: Building 10
Phone: 252-940-6326
judyj@beaufortccc.edu

What’s in your wallet? Vote for Archie, if you’re here in this place where we dwell. City limits and all that. City taxes and all that…

Val calls her mother “momma” even though Ruth is 90. She doesn’t say “Mama” like Southern women usually do. The “o” is pronounced and distinct. Anyway, Momma wants to buy her daughter Val a sewing machine for her birthday. Seems Momma (Ruth) and Bob (Val’s dad, duh) bought her a nice Sears sewing machine in arrgggh 1980… or around there abouts. It’s definitely time for a new one. I don’t know jacksquat about sewing. I do know what thread looks like and how linen wrinkles.

Ruth and Val have been e-shopping on Overstock.com and eBay, looking for a good deal on a machine. They’re fixated on a Brother machine and they won’t stop talking about it. “It threads itself!” Ruth exclaims. “It has 60 programmed stitches… sews buttonholes automatically… has an antique and heirloom setting… sews at 700 rpm… onstar navigation, dispenses popsicles to neighborhood kids, removes stains from wool sweaters…” I don’t know what all they’re saying.

My head wants to vomit. Too much information, too little lunch. “Send me a link,” I plead. I promise I’ll look. Yes… yes… yes… it must be a good deal.” Silently, I must admit, I say to myself, “Please let me eat my ham sandwich. When the two of you are excited, you are more than my brain can process…”

It’s a Brother XR 7700 computerized sewing machine. A factory refurb. Marked down from $499 to $139. Okay okay okay… Ruth’s 1949 Singer — a machine weighing at least 50 lbs. — is sequestered in our closet behind the winter coats. It’s like Narnia in there…

welcome autumn to the swamplands. It seems as if when there’s a chill in the air and the wind blows the leaves around in big swirling tornado-spins in the middle of the street - -I yearn for a cup of coffee around 6:00 p.m. Now, this is a bad habit. Everyone will admit it, unless I drink tasteless-non-coffee decaf. Val bought a teakettle, a little electric one (very British, eh?) and a couple boxes of herbal tea. Not expensive stuff, she says we are not going to be “tea drinkers” in the new urban-pop sense. We are the common tea drinkers, I’m afraid. Celestial Seasons or Constant Comment (I think that’s the name, Val says she drank it when she was a kid) or store-brand in-a-bag tea people. Nice fruit or herbal teas we can steep in five minutes and enjoy. The taste of coffee is something we adore in this house, but the sleeplessness and anxiety at 1:00 a.m. is not going to happen.

Right in the midst of evening tea prep, I had a great idea. Everyone! Get some cocoa.

Oh and… Val asked me to tell Phoebe that it is “sweater dance” time. To the Prof I say, “It’s bonfire time!”