HOT STUFF

Twenty years ago, I had surgery, and that was the last time I had my temperature taken, until now, when COVID-19 invaded our shores. These days, I have my temperature taken at least once a day. Twenty years ago, the nurse stuck a glass mercury-solution thermometer under my tongue, and told me not to talk. That was the hard part! Of course, swallowing the thermometer was frowned upon. However, nowadays Vladimir Putin would have no compunction giving his rival a glass of mercury tea. How times have changed.


Many years before that, lots of people, when using glass thermometers, were asked to bend over to have their temperatures taken. I think that’s when bowing became passe. Temperature taking used to be a rather simple procedure, but now a full page in the Arizona Daily Star was devoted to the subject, “How to best use different types of thermometers.” Information was gleaned from, “The Mayo Clinic News Network,” so I knew this was going to be good!

Modern thermometers are digital. So, with digital thermometers what precautions should one take? I know it must be very expensive if you swallow one. Of course, washing your hands and cleaning the thermometer with alcohol is recommended. I think that means rubbing alcohol, not bourbon.

My favorite suggestion was, “Don’t use the same thermometer for both oral and rectal temperatures. Get two and label which is used where.” It wasn’t made clear to me whether a digital thermometer can travel the nether regions.

The article proceeded to describe the digital ear thermometer which uses an infrared ray to measure the temperature inside the ear canal. I guess if you have a seven-year old boy, it can also detect a green bean he might have stuck in there for safe keeping.

Then there’s the temporal artery thermometer. This one uses an infrared scanner to measure the temperature of the temporal artery when the nurse sweeps it across your forehead. Unfortunately, that one never works for me, because after taking a hike in 100+degree weather my bangs stick to my forehead, so the person taking incoming temperatures has to sweep my neck, which isn’t really my forehead, but I never mention this, since I am always in the healthy hot zone.

Oral glass thermometers are still used, but it’s not a good idea to drink a hot cup of coffee before having your temperature taken, or drinking a glass of ice cold water, because then your temperature might be so low that you may be declared dead.

In the good old days, the nurse would  hold your wrist and look at her watch to keep track of how long you have kept the thermometer under your tongue. It was always disconcerting when she was called away, and you were left, all alone, with a thermometer under your tongue. Digital thermometers beep when they are done.

Before I read the article, I had never heard of armpit temperature taking, but that temperature  isn’t  supposed to be too reliable since you might end up with the temperature of a close-fitting undergarment instead of an armpit.

97 to 99 degrees is the range for a normal temperature, and if you have a temperature of 100.4, you probably have a fever, that could be caused by an infection, or standing out in the sun too long. The Mayo Clinic also advised that if you feel hot, you just might sweat, and sweat cools off the body. Let’s hear it for sweat!  However, if you feel cold, shivering will make you feel warmer.  Yes, and a blanket would probably also help.

So, with that, I wish all of you a most healthy 98.6 day.

Esther Blumenfeld

GOING TOURIST CLASS

On August 20, I had my first real outing in almost six months. I was going to leave the safety of my apartment, get into my car and drive a few miles to attend an arranged meeting with actual live people.

This was truly an occasion! I even washed the back window of my car. I showered, put on a dress, carefully applied make-up  and strapped sandals, rather than my reliable sneakers, onto my feet. My outfit was complete when I put on a colorful mask. This is the mask that always prompts delightful compliments such as, “Oh, what a beautiful mask!”

I arrived at my destination on time, and the doors opened automatically.  I was greeted by a woman wearing a mask (not as fashionable as mine) and she blocked my way until she took my temperature. Then she presented me with some blue rubber gloves that were a perfect match with my dress. Then she pointed the way to a desk where I was asked to present my photo I.D. and health insurance cards.

Looking around the room, I noticed a few other guests sitting in chairs far-far away from me. I picked a chair that did not have a sign on it reading, “Do Not Sit Here!” I assumed  those signs meant,  “If you sit in one of these chairs, we will drag your butt out of it.” Some party! We were sitting so far away from each other that we weren’t even in shouting distance.

In a few minutes, a masked young man—don’t know how old he was, but his voice had already changed—called my name and asked me to follow him. We entered a small cubicle. He didn’t offer me a cocktail, but he did spray my chair with alcohol before I sat down. He then asked me,”How’s your vision?” I said, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Then he wiped off a hand-held vision doo-dad, and said, “Keep your glasses on and we will check it out one eye at a time. That didn’t go so well, because, since I was still breathing under my mask, my glasses fogged up. However, I did pretty well under the circumstances.

After he got the information he needed, he escorted me into the room where I would be greeted by he host of this soiree, Dr. Wong, who is such a good Retina doctor that his dance card is full. I was hoping that Chinese food would be on the menu, but I got three different kinds of drops into my eyes instead.

Dr. Wong looked deeply into my eyes and told me that he didn’t want to see me for another year. I took the rejection well, since his good report was the best party favor I could ever receive. Since the festivities were over, I threw away my blue rubber gloves, and drove home partially blinded by the drops. I washed my dress, wiped off the bottom of my shoes and took a shower.

Can’t wait to see what my next outing will be like.  Hope the Dermatologist will also throw a good party. After all, I’ve got some skin in that game.

Esther Blumenfeld

WEATHER IT

“Whether it’s cold or whether it’s hot, there’s going to be weather whether or not.” True, but when it’s 105+ degrees every day of the week, that’s SOME weather!

Living in Arizona, people make the lame excuse, “But it’s a dry heat,” and, the equally lame rejoinder is, “Yes, but it’s kind of like sticking your head in an oven.” However, with the promise of monsoon rains, the rising humidity makes it feel more like sticking your head in a hot dishwasher.

 So, what’s the remedy if you want air other than air conditioning? The only feasible answer is to set your alarm clock to 4:30 a.m., get your butt out of bed, and be outside as soon as it gets light enough that you can avoid a rattlesnake on the path.  Admittedly, when I was younger, I could be ready to rock and roll in about 15 minutes. Now, it takes me an hour. No short cuts. It takes me an hour. However, I am not the only person suffering a touch of insanity. I do enjoy the company of my fellow early bird regular walkers. They are a cheerful bunch of masked wonders.

I usually meet up with beautiful, Tina, a 79-year-old youngster, who has already jogged her 4 miles, and slows down to accommodate my short legs. I still have to take 2 steps for every one of hers. Then there’s the fellow who climbs up a steep hill, so he can bowl rocks down. So far, he hasn’t hit me because he bowls gutter rocks.

I particularly enjoy the little dogs who drag their masters behind them. One tiny pup wants me to pet her, and is so excited to see me that she pees on the sidewalk. Then there’s the  roll- over for a tummy rub (the dog not the owner.) One extremely intelligent woman always crosses the road, so no one will breathe on her, but that is understandable, since several folks begin panting heavily after walking uphill. I do so look forward to seeing these neighbors, because it’s nice to have something positive to look forward to during these COVID-19 days.

To re-enter the building, we all have to ring the lobby doorbell, and unless he’s in the bathroom, the guard lets us in. Then he thumps everyone on the head with a thermometer and sends us on our way. Later in the morning, someone from the concierge desk will call to inquire about my health. Other than driving my car for 30 minutes once a week, I have not been anywhere since March 15th. However, I get additional exercise in the community pool (one person at a time) for 45 minutes a day.  I am getting used to having it all to myself and kind of like that. I do Yoga in my living room. Also, I was happy to dance along with Gene Kelly.  He was in the rain, and I was in my kitchen.

I have also found other creative outlets, but more about that later.  In the meantime, it’s a good idea to count your blessings. I do that everyday, and many of you are among mine.  Be well.  Keep laughing, and remember that life is truly ridiculous.

Esther Blumenfeld

I AM WHAT I AM WHAT?

I AM WHAT I AM WHAT?

“Forget about grammar and think about potatoes.” (Gertrude Stein)

A fair warning;  this story is not for children—nor English teachers—because it deals with breaking the rules.

When my good friend, Paula, a former English teacher called and commented upon my misuse of the hallowed comma, little did she know that she had thrown down the gauntlet—a challenge that I will now gladly address.

First of all, long ago, in a place far-far away, I had to learn the rules before I ventured to break them. By now, some of you have come to the rightful conclusion that much of what I write is also meant to be read aloud. That’s why several people have often told me, “I can hear your voice,” and they claimed that they were sober when they said it. That is the reason, I often stop readers along the way, because even if they are in the hurry, I want them to pause.

But (starting a sentence with a conjunction as William Faulkner frequently did) my run-on sentences are not as plentiful as were those by Charles Dickens:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. “ (A TALE OF TWO CITIES).   No! He was not paid by the word. His publisher paid him upon book sales.

Jane Austen was an expert in redundancy, and often she used double negatives:

“She owned that, considering everything, she was not absolutely without inclination for the party. (from Emma).

And, stepping away from literature for a moment, there’s the heated dispute about the Oxford Comma.  Here’s an example: 

(Without) “I would like to thank my mother, Queen Elizabeth and God.”  (With) “ I would like to thank my mother, Queen Elizabeth, and God.”

A missing Oxford comma gained international notoriety, when, the Oakhurst Dairy in Maine had to settle a lawsuit over an overtime dispute and pay $5 million to their drivers, because the missing comma created enough uncertainty that the U.S.Court of Appeals for the First Circuit granted the claim that four years of overtime pay had been denied.

The poet, ee cummings had his own way of dealing with the conundrum by eliminating grammar completely:

“it’s spring

    and

the

      goat-footed

    balloonMan whistles 

far

                       and

wee”

H.L. Mencken wasn’t the only author who didn’t finish his sentences. Other classic authors also used choppy paragraph fragments for dramatic affect to create an effect.

And, (remember Faulkner) William Shakespeare, The Bard himself, frequently ended a sentence with a preposition. Look it up!

Obviously, grammar is of value, but, in my not so humble opinion, not when it’s not. That’s when it’s best to think about potatoes. “Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose” 

“It is what it is.”

Esther Blumenfeld

SMART, SMARTER, SMARTEST

Amazon has invented a smart shopping cart. It has cameras, sensors and a scale that will keep track of what you are buying, and then charge your Amazon account when you leave the store. No need for cashiers. Bummer!  I don’t have an Amazon account. I don’t want an Amazon account, and I like my cashiers.

The grocery store is one of the few places left where I get a friendly greeting from a nice clerk who recognizes me.  Often, when I call a business, the mechanical voice on the other end claims that I am a “valuable customer,”but I have to listen to a lot of gobbledygook before talking with another mechanical voice who thanks me for my business, and tries to help me, but usually can’t, and asks me to wait for a human being who is handling 155 calls before mine.

I know that  instead of going to a store, I can order anything I want on my computer, but already I am communicating with too many inanimate objects in my home. For instance, after my printer spits out a piece of paper, I always pat it and say, “You can go back to sleep now.”

My friend, Paula was in the passenger seat in a car, that Fay was driving. Paula was talking with Siri, the voice on her Apple Tablet, when Fay said, “I am so upset.” Whereupon, Siri said, “I hope you’re not mad at me.” These are such nice women that I am sure they reassured Siri, who is obviously very sensitive.  

But I digress: Even though I don’t have an Amazon account, I do have questions for the inventor of the smart cart:

If you throw an umbrella into the cart, will you get charged for it?

If you have two kids, and one sits in the cart, and the other in the handle section on top of your purse, do you get charged for all three or only the two kids?

Does an alarm go off if you mistakenly walk off with the wrong cart?

Is there a limit on how many e-mails and mailings you will receive after the cart tally, of the products you are purchasing, is passed on to sellers?

Can the cart choose what you should buy if you forgot your shopping list?

I don’t know if you have to push these carts or if they wheel themselves, but I assume that the more gadgetry the more expensive they become, and I assume that they are waterproof if left out in the rain. I hope they are insured against roll-aways in the parking lot.

 Since a screen near the handle lists what is  being charged, I suspect that carts will get so smart that they will spit items out of your cart that they think aren’t healthy for you. Perhaps, someday there will be  a vegan cart for vegetarian purists.

Now we have smart phones, smart carts, smart cars, and smart watches. Also computers are getting smarter and smarter and so are our television sets.  Oh, Boy!  Now, if someone could invent smarter people, we’d really be on to something.

Esther Blumenfeld