Our Little Quirks

*This comes from a blog notebook missive I wrote yesterday.

Rituals. Quirks. Peculiarities. Routines. Idiosynchrasies. Habits. Call 'em what you want. We all have 'em.

One of my little hang-ups is that I really HATE to write with a pen that does not have its cap placed on the top end. I don't know why, and it isn't terribly interesting, but writing with a "naked" pen is very unpleasant for me. But, here's the really strange thing...I love to have not one, but two caps on top of my pen. This, I assure you, helps me enjoy the actual act of writing to much more. I can also note the difference in the neatness of my penmanship based upon how many caps my pen has on it. No cap = hideous, messy handwriting. One cap = acceptable writing, legible to most. Two caps = handwriting that earns me kudos and accolades. And my admirers are often further impressed upon learning that I'm lefthanded. I can understand this shock and awe as most of my lefty brethren are cursed with tragic penmanship.

One advantage of this double pen cap thing, aside from the fact that it provides me with some strange writing gratification, is that I always know when the kids have stolen my pens in school. They have not copped on to the fact that if they have the double-capped pen, I am going to bust them for theft!



While I'm on the topic of lefthandedness, I might as well expose another little personal oddity. Though I do write with the lefthanded hook, I hold my paper not with the lines horizontal, but rather vertical. In effect, I have th paper sideways while I write top to bottom as opposed to left to right. I have had many people express amazement at this over the years, but I was never really able to truely grasp the utter bizarreness of this until I had a student in Germany a few years ago who wrote the same way. I was finally able to see what other people are looking at when they see me writing. Dude, that's just messed up, Yo!



Another oddity I can lay claim to is being the only person I know who does not like airconditioning at home. I don't own an AC and I am quite sure I never will. Sure, I like to seek refuge from the heat and humidity in an airconditionied mall or movie theatre from time to time, but the way I see it, I wait ALL YEAR for the all-too-short New England summer. I love the heat. Love it! I embrace it. I refuse to turn my apartment into a meat locker in the summer. I also cannot stand the fact that even on 90 degree days, I'm forced to leave the house with a fleece or sweater in order to be prepared for the subarctic temperatures in coffee shops, busses, whatever. I guess I am unable to grasp the concept of cursing the cold during our 11 and a half month winter, and then, as the mercury AT LAST starts to rise, embarking on a quest to recrerate the climatic elements of Shackletons epic South Pole expedition.



Lately, another idiosynchracy I can ascribe to myself is the uncanny ability to break my neck at the drop of a hat. It doesn't take much. Lifting weights. Sleeping funny. Turning my head. Breathing. Existing. all of the aforementioned activities are potiential catalysts for days upon days of intolerable neck pain. You know, the kind that makes its rounds of the physiological neighborhood. It schmoozes with the head, partys with the shoulder blade and courts the upper arm. This is a very generous neck pain, mind you. It is a free spirit that sees no need to confine itself quiety to one place. In the past 6 months, I have had quite a few such episodes. I'm having one now, in fact.

I saw my doctor yesterday. I had a coffee in a Starbucks which boasted sub-zero temperatures before boarding the meat-freezer bus on the way to the igloo hospital. Thank god I had that fleece with me. Although it sucked having to carry it along in the heat. But whatever...



I'd like to discuss my doctor's quirks here. Why not, since we're on the topic. Let me explain the splendor of the Boston Hospitals for my out-of-region readers. Boston is renowned worldwide for its superior hospitals. The hospital I go to, the New England Baptist Hospital, is known for its groundbreaking work in bone and joint care. In particular, they are "the back guys." If you have back issues, you go to NEBH. Simple as that. And although my back is still a thorn in my side from time to time, these people have improved my quality of life 100,000,000 percent through thier physical therapy treatments. I mean, I have never had surgery or anything, but if I did have to, I would be very fortunate to go under the knife with these people. These people are the official orthopedic treating hospital to the Boston Celtics, and when Nomar G. had his wrist operated on, it was done at the UMASS Medical Center in Worcester, but NEBH is their teaching hospital. Golf great Jack Nicklaus had his hip replacement done here. These people are also pioneering disc replacement surgery. All I'm saying is that if a person is working as a physiatrist (back doctor) at this place, they are obviously one of the best in their field. My doctor, although she is good and she obviously knows what she's talking about and although I trust her completely, is, well, totally lacking in the whole "bedside manner" thing. She is rather cold, actually. And while I can deal with that, the thing that drives me nuts about her is that whenever I have a flare up and I go to see her, she asks me, "So, what do you think is the problem?" This is not her way of asking what my symptoms are. Usually, we have already covered that. I have told her where the radiating pain is, etc. I have explained how long it has been going on and how severe it is, etc. Normally, upon the conclusion of such a conversation, the doctor (the one with the medical degree), would introduce some kind of diagnostic theroy to the patient (the one without the medical degree.) But, my doctor always wants to know what my assessment of the situation is. When I tell her I'm not sure what's going on or why the flare up has occured, she asks me, "Ok, so, how should we treat it? Do you want me to give you a steroid treatment? Do you want to continue taking Aleve until it clears up? What should we do?" It is usually at this point that I gently remind her that I am there to seek her advice on the issue because, once again, SHE HAS THE MEDICAL DEGREE AND I DO NOT. I mean, christ, I can't even imagine having a parent come in and telling them that their kid is doing poorly and then asking the parent what they think I should do to help the kid. The parent would say, and rightfully so, "Ahhh...isn't that your job?" Well, yes, in fact it is. Another annoying quirk that she has is outright refusal to perscribe painkillers or muscle relaxers. I mean, I do understand that you don't want to get people with chronic pain issues addicted to painkillers, but Jesus, a few muscle relaxers from time to time would be helpful.

Hmmm.....

A few guilty pleasures quirks...

Every once in a while, I indulge in a Starbucks iced coffee with (and here's the naughty part) a few pumps of chocolate syrup. I had one today, in fact. But, I don't do the whipped cream, and I doctor it up with skim milk. Hell, I don't even have to add Splenda because the chocolate makes it sweet enough.

I am addicted to gummi candies. I love those little things. It takes all the will power in the world to walk by them.

I don't even need to tell you about my love of beer.

I have been watching episodes of the Gillmore Girls almost non-stop.

I am utterly fascinated by the whole Star Jones and Babs Walters feud. And I have literally NEVER seen "the View." I don't even know what the hell they babble about. I only just learned about this Babs and Star Wars (ha ha) yesterday and I can't get enough coveragae of it on the news. I think it has something to do with seeing Walters lose her cool.

In the morning, when I get up, before I even shower, I turn on my computer and quickly check all my favorite blogs!

Anyway, what are your little quirks?