Part 106 Options: or, heads you lose, tails you lose


Two days later, on a bright and clear Thursday, I return to the medical center, this time with an ice bag in my lap compliments of the school nurse. My groin is aching from the aggravated hernia, the timing being, on this occasion, especially poor. Yes’ “Magnification” CD again fills my ears. The groin swelling fortunately recedes as I reach the physicians’ offices. Dr. Ly-, after first examining me and observing that I look “wonderful”, expresses his concern about my considering what he describes, in his typical low key manner, as being a “pretty big surgery”. He suggests attempting another dilation first (doesn’t he know how many of these have flopped unimpressively in the past?). We talk about our home state of Louisiana, and he speaks positively about C.E. Byrd, my high school, and Louisiana Tech, my first college attended. After meeting with him, I am feeling much better (when someone is impressed with your present appearance and your background too, who wouldn’t feel better?). I drop by and talk with Dr. Bl’-s assistant Allison about the dilation or surgical options. I feel less secure now that I talk to her – it will be, after all, her cohort who will soon want me to decide my fate.

My friend Brian and I lead another successful April Fool’s Day inservice at work. The beautiful weather persists. At dinner, though, I get another all too familiar result when I can’t finish the veggie burger (no bread), rice, and broccoli. Also, we have concerns that my eating inconsistencies, pending medical procedures, and reports of church members’ recent deaths have taken their toll on Brooke, my youngest. She has asked many questions lately related to health and mortality, and seems to be worrying more these days. She usually changes the subject quickly though, preferring to discuss her continued obsession of “Pirates of the Caribbean”.



Part 107 Baseball, birthdays, and broccoletti


Saturday smiles pleasantly. Bree’s Sea Monkeys defeat their opponents with a solid 12-7 victory, with Breanna again aiding her team at the plate with two hits. At home, we look over Bree’s current report card, finding it overflowing with As and excellent conduct marks. We have already decided that today will be perfect for celebrating Becah’s birthday (officially tomorrow), so I make my specialty dish – broccoletti. I found this recipe in the newspaper, years ago. If you mix steamed broccoli, cooked spaghetti, sautéed onions and mushrooms, garlic, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, Dijon mustard, pepper, parmesan cheese, and douse it with white wine, you have a crowd pleaser! Follow that with chocolate brownies and you can’t lose. My niece and her husband, my parents, and Becah’s mom and grandmother come for the celebration. I do fairly well until the second glass of wine, which triggers some swallowing problems. After dinner, in the den Brooke requests more “Pirates”…

Sunday afternoon I walk to the school park with Bree, where we practice her softball batting. I have her position her left foot more forwardly and swing more aggressively. The result is a remarkable improvement in her batting skills. Now, if she can just transfer this to the games…

Becah and I meet Monday with Brooke’s preschool teacher. She describes Brooke as being tentative and shy at school and quite concerned – to the point of worrying – about life events. We discuss my medical issues as contributing factors, as well as Brooke’s former teacher who left at mid year due to her husband’s illness. We are surprised, fearing that the teacher was going to tell us that our usually never-at-a-loss-for-words daughter was being too verbal and even sassy at school.

Another afternoon of pitching to Bree at the park produces the same results. Her stance, her swing, everything is in synch. She rips the balls past me, one after another.

A few days later Becah accompanies Bree to her scouts trip out of town in nearby Livingston. Brooke and I go on a movie watching marathon well in to the night: “Tangled”, two episodes of the teen show “Victorious”, and (of course) “Pirates” (this time number three). When she falls asleep, I resume reading Richard Adams’ novel “The Plague Dogs”, a touching fantasy about animal abuse, a favorite of mine that I am going back to after many years.

Bree returns too late to make her next softball game, and her team loses 18-10 to the undefeated Diamonds. I pitch anyway – my public requires it! One of the coaches says I am throwing high. I don’t think so, but the pitching bag had been moved up two feet, so that might have influenced my aim (maybe he’s right after all, but I’m the star here; let him do a better job). Our defense was erratic, but that is no surprise. Batting has only two steps: make contact, then run as fast as you can. With fielding a batter out (assuming a ball hit on the ground), a defensive player must catch the ball and throw accurately to a receiver. The receiver must catch it, and then have the wherewithal to tag the runner out in time. A four step process, therefore twice as difficult to master.

After the game I take Brooke to her best friend’s birthday party. That evening she actually watches “Pirates” two times in succession.