Ramblings – Page 3 – Alexandra Alessandri

Let’s Get Dead

September 2, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

Yesterday my son came home from school (pre-K) with the following game in mind: Let’s Get Dead (or something very similar to that). He’s only four. He has no concept about death or dying or anything of the sort. And it bugged me, a lot.

So I kneeled in front of him to have a talk.

“Where’d you learn that game, baby?”

“In school.”

“Who taught you the game?”

“T.” (Full name shall not be disclosed.)

(Insert here that said T is also the one who, during orientation, ran in and grabbed things out of other kids’ hands, and who, on an afternoon during pick-up, had a drink of water from the water fountain, only to spit it outside. He thought it was funny. His mom didn’t, but she had no control over him at that moment as he danced around her, laughing, and she tried to be stern with him.)

“Baby, do you know what that means? Being dead?”

“No.”

“It means you’re not here anymore. If someone’s dead, they’re in heaven and we can’t see them anymore. And we miss them.”

“Star Wars is cool, with shooting and fighting.”

“But that’s not nice, baby. Shooting and fighting is not nice. And this game isn’t nice.”

“I like it.”

How do you explain death to a four-year-old? The only death my son has experienced was that of my father, and that was when he was almost six months old! He doesn’t remember!

I know my son will pick up things from other kids in his school. It’s inevitable and all I can do as a parent is try to take each of these moments as a teaching opportunity. And maybe I’m just being overly sensitive. Boys play fight all the time, don’t they? And we did watch Cars, which was a bit violent, though not really more than any other Disney movies (Kill the Beast! anyone?), and the parts that are questionable young kids won’t “get.”

But something about “let’s get dead” really scares me. I don’t like it because I see kids killing kids. I hear it in the news (school shooting or stabbing) and it breaks my heart. Because at what point do we say, oh they’re just being kids, and do we start paying attention?

Blog, Ramblings, Writing

Hello, Insomnia – some musings

August 26, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

It’s 3:15 AM. I should be asleep because I know the consequences of not getting a full night’s rest are brutal. But I’m not; sleep has apparently evaded me. After the initial wake-up from my son’s cries (from either nightmares or night terrors – I don’t know), I just lay in bed, twisting and trying to regain some remnant of a comfortable position with which to greet sleep. Nada. Too hot. Too many thoughts. Another cry from my son.

I gave up and came here, to write. What else do you do at 3 in the morning when the world around you is dead in slumber?

Insomnia. One of the many characteristics of growing old, my condition, and stress. Take your pick.

The start of school has been, indeed, rough. The short period of rest which summer afforded me is now a rapidly disintegrating memory. It’s only been two weeks and already I’ve neared an anxiety attack. The insomnia has also returned, and the pain/inflammation has increased. I’m back on steroids, in a second attempt at relief. My acupuncturist added new needle locations and new natural Chinese herbs.

I’m at a catch-22, my rheumatologist tells me. She has meds that can help with the symptoms. But those meds, like I’ve written before, are not without serious side effects and monitoring. It’s easy to say no to them when the pain is not intense, when it’s a simple whisper as opposed to a piercing scream. Now I waver. Maybe I should give those meds a try.

Today (or rather yesterday since, technically, 3 AM belongs in a new day) was a long day. Grueling not so much because of the amount of work but because it was void of rest. Dropped off my son. Drove through white, forceful rain. Had meetings. Taught classes. Worked on schedules. Squeezed lunch in there somewhere. Drove to meet my husband and son at a dealership. Spent four hours at said dealership. At dinner too late. I know it doesn’t sound bad. Yes, other people have worse days or more hectic days. But here’s the thing: my body cannot tolerate this. It just doesn’t respond. By the time I was driving home, I was near tears from the pain – a gnawing, incessant burning deep inside my bones and a throbbing in my joints.

When we got home, my husband said to me: we’re getting old. I’m exhausted, too, and my back hurts.

And I wanted to scream. Because this isn’t just me getting old. This isn’t just exhaustion. This isn’t just stress (though without a doubt, stress is an integral player in the triggering of a flare-up). My body’s broken. And no one who isn’t going through the same can really understand.

This is one of the frustrating parts of the disease. The loneliness that comes from feeling like a whining child. The shame that comes with feelings of ineptitude because you have to explain why you’re walking slow, or why you’re stuttering or having difficulty in forming coherent speech, or why you’re taking the elevator instead of the stairs (and hearing people’s thoughts screaming: lazy), or why you’re now trying to lessen your workload in order to manage balance and lessen pain (and again, people look at you, see someone young and “healthy” and think: lazy).

I know I’m at a low right now. I know this is cyclical. It will pass and relief will come again, however brief. I have to maintain my focus on that and hang on for this ride. And I need to write.

Because writing saves me.

Blog, Ramblings

Defining Success

August 11, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

With the upcoming start of the semester, the notion of academic success is thick in the air. I can smell it. The word is chanted through the halls, written in dark, bold colors, and engraved in the minds of new and continuing students. We want them to succeed. We want them to want to succeed.

The thing is, success is such a charged word. It’s what people everywhere hinge on to deem their worth in society, in academia, or amongst family and peers. So it’s almost as if there’s a movement to counter that. Let’s not care about success. Let’s not worry about passing college. Let’s not allow “the big man” to determine our success.

And in part, I understand. Success is sometimes overrated. Or rather, someone else’s concept of success is overrated. When it comes down to it, we have to decide for ourselves what success means. And then we need to go for it.

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary (online), success is “a : degree or measure of succeeding b : favorable or desired outcome; also : the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence.”

As you can see, the definition varies. For many, success is “the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence.” I will say this now: this is a hollow form of success. Sure, it’s nice to have money. Sure, it’s nice to have favor or eminence. But if that’s all you have, I feel sorry for you. Because that isn’t true success. Of course, that’s my humble opinion, and I know many who will fight me ferociously on this.

I like to think of success as the second part of the definition: “favorable or desired outcome.” This gives more room to fit in our own unique goals and aspirations. It makes success reachable since we can break up our big goals into reachable, smaller ones, and with each smaller success, build up our confidence in ourselves. In this way, success could be earning a nice paycheck, but it would be so much more than that: It would be satisfaction in our career, it would be love of what we do, it would be balancing our private and professional worlds. Each of those constitute success.

So how does this translate into the classroom? Success isn’t just about getting the A in the class. A’s are (pardon the redundancy) overrated. And if the statistics and research is correct, A’s are inflated anyway, so they don’t count as much as they used to. Success isn’t all about passing exams. Instead, success is about learning along the way. If you end a semester knowing more than when you started, you’ve succeeded. If you’ve built solid peer and mentor relationships, you’ve succeeded. If you’ve helped anyone along the way, you’ve succeeded. Success isn’t all about the end result or the big picture; it’s also about the process and the smaller steps along the way.

Of course, this means that in order to succeed in part, even if it’s not with an A, students need to care about themselves enough to have goals. Students need to roll up their sleeves and pants, and get ready to get dirty with learning. It’s not always fun. It’s not always pleasant, but it is worth it. It really boils down to students caring enough about their goals. If education is where you see success, then you need to do your part. Success isn’t just handed out; it’s earned.

And I would do well to remind myself of this conviction when it comes to my own goals and aspirations. Just because I haven’t reached my ultimate goals doesn’t mean I haven’t succeeded. I just need to look around me at what I have accomplished to know that I have, indeed, succeeded.

Blog, Health, Ramblings

Am I Strong Enough?

August 10, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

I’m sad to see the end of summer here. Next week, it’s back to work and I’m nervous – because the exhaustion, fatigue and pain are back, because sometimes, I don’t know if I’m strong enough.

I think that’s the rub – I don’t know if I’m strong enough to get through this. On the good days, which I’ve been blessed with this summer, I feel I can do anything: I can go with my son to the zoo, the mall, the pool, to birthday parties; I can play basketball with him (albeit if just for a little while); I can engage him in fun activities. I can stay up for a few hours after both my husband and son have gone to sleep and write. I can clean the house, cook fabulous meals, and run errands. I can be a good wife, mother, and writer.

But on the bad days when I’m so tired I feel this weight on me that keeps me down and drowsy, I worry that I won’t be able to pull through it. I worry that everything my mind wants to do becomes null because my body just doesn’t respond to it. I want to do these things, but I can’t. And I feel useless and a failure.

It always works out somehow, though – right? One way or another, we get through the sludge and pain and emerge stronger.

Blog, Ramblings

Incoherent Musings (or Not)

August 7, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

My mind has been a bit depleted of blog topics, what with the end of the summer term upon me (grades due in less than two days!), grading, and working on my own writing for my two classes. I feel a bit scatterbrained, sitting in front of my computer, urging myself to post something, anything, but all I do is stare straight ahead, mouth slightly ajar. I wonder if I can fall asleep in this upright position. I’m exhausted from today’s grading marathon, but I’m still here, urging myself to write. So these might be some incoherent musings.

I’m working on a picture book manuscript for one of my classes. I’m hoping to get good feedback on it and maybe prep it to send out. I love how writing works – much like memory actually, when one memory triggers another then another until there’s a web of memories knitting together your past. Writing works like that for me – I start writing something and then, the ideas start coming. One by one. I jot them down and then tackle them in whatever order is most pressing. It’s not terribly organized, and one of my tasks at hand is organizing myself to focus on ONE project and ONE project alone, from start to finish. Otherwise, I’ll be spinning in circles without ever reaching the end.

So, for the time being, apart from the materials for my classes, I will be focusing all my creative energy around this fiction project, possibly a novel. The characters in this project have hijacked my subconscious and I find myself needing to know exactly how everything plays out. I’ve come to realize this will be a YA novel, and I’m excited by that (and terrified!). The next two courses taken at UCLA’s Writers Extension program will be dedicated to getting my behind in the right gear for this project. Because, damnit, I will get this done. I’ve received some very positive feedback from people I trust who are in the business, so I’m jumping in. All else will have to wait (im)patiently, and I’ll have to resign myself to jotting ideas on margins of documents.

Healthwise- I took another jab at acupuncture and noticed a short burst of energy immediately following the treatment. I’m going to give it the 6 weeks I have per my insurance and see how it helps. The doctor also started me on some natural Chinese herbs to help balance me out. I still haven’t gone to the yoga, though I’m hoping to get myself there soon.

I think that’s as much energy as I have right now. Until later. Chao.

Blog, Health, Ramblings

Acupuncture Virgin – Continuing with the lifestyle changes

July 27, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

I’ve been flirting with the idea of acupuncture since I began with this disease and today I had my first session.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I wanted to give holistic medicine a chance. I’m hesitant when it comes to chemical drugs because they seem to work at masking the problem, relieving symptoms instead of fixing the problem or they create new problems and come burdened with nauseating side effects. The extreme reactions I had while on steroids (to reduce inflammation) and pain medication were awful, and I’ve gone back to sticking with Advil if the pain gets too bad; otherwise, I suck it up. (Of course, I say this now, during the summer, when I’m feeling overall better thanks to the frequent naps and resting and the lower work load – we’ll see what happens when the semester begins).

Now don’t get me wrong – we need medicine and I am taking some medicine (Plaquenil) for my condition. When we have serious problems that threaten to kill us, they help us stay alive and maintain a relatively normal lifestyle. But, we’ve gotten to the point where we forego general maintenance of our bodies and instead rely on artificial means to return some of what we lost. We learn, too late, that simple lifestyle changes can impact how much disease and medicine we’ll need later on. Some diseases are inevitable – they’re genetically ingrained in us and the triggers are too common and bountiful. But lifestyle changes, true lifestyle changes can help lessen the severity of some diseases.

I’ve noticed this with food. With all this process junk we have in the supermarkets (though I have to admit it’s delicious junk!), we’re feeding our bodies the wrong foods. It’s not optimum fuel and we’re killing ourselves with it. Reading Michael Pollan‘s books has been enlightening; he gives some clear and concise rules on what we should be eating, and really, it’s all common sense! If something has a shelf life of several years, it can’t be that good for you! And what about the ingredients. MSG, pesticides, artificial sweeteners and artificial food colorings are toxic! I’ve noticed a direct correlation with ingesting these things and pain. I was a huge diet-soda drinker. Huge. It’s all I drank. And I haven’t touched one in almost a year. Correction – the one relapse I had, I paid for with barely being able to walk the following day. I’ve gone through my pantry and taken out all things with MSG, which left it quite bare as MSG has made its way into almost everything, from seasonings to take out food. I’ve also tried to incorporate more veggies (especially dark, colorful ones) and fruits into my diet, really focusing on anti-inflammatory foods, like pineapple, blueberries, chia seeds, broccoli, mushrooms, celery. Even though I’m not crazy about some of these (mushrooms and celery – eh), I’m finding creative ways to consume these foods.

But I went off on a tangent. The acupuncture session today. It was good. Weird, but good. It’s funny because just entering into the room, I felt the change of energy. The soft music, the incense (which I don’t always like, but today it felt just right), the soft colors on the walls, and the Buddha in the corner – it all came together in a peaceful manner. We started with a consultation where the doctor went through all of my medical history and asked me questions about my physical and emotional health. She gave me some feedback and suggestions, and then we started the session.

I never really liked the idea of sticking needles in my skin, but everything I read said it was painless. Not quite so. It hurt many times and I definitely felt the needles going in! There were some areas that hurt more than others, which she explained was normal. Once all the needles were in, she dimmed the lights, put on a small lamp near my feet, and left me to my thoughts and sensations. I felt a sort of tingling (which, she explained, was the energy moving through), and some I had some aching specifically around my right ear and left arm. I think she said the ear was emotions. But don’t quote me on that.

The thirty minutes were up quicker than I anticipated, and when I got up, I felt somewhat dizzy. Soon after, however, I was feeling good. Not perfect, not 100% pain-free (and my stomach was as upset as before), but I felt a little more energy which, over the last few days, had been declining again.

I can’t say it was a great experience, but it wasn’t bad, either. It was different. And I think I’ll be repeating it for a few weeks to see if I notice an improvement. I hope to also take up yoga in that center. I really liked it.

A quick side note: my husband also went and had a session. Instead of feeling more energized, however, he left feeling groggy, exhausted, dizzy.

Blog, Health, Ramblings

Sleep Paralysis – A (literally) rude awakening

July 20, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

A few months ago – I think it was towards the end of April – I had a pretty freaky experience.

It was early morning, around 6:00 AM. My husband had just kissed me good-bye on his way out to work; I was still in bed, in that half-asleep, half-awake state where all I want to do is surrender to sleep once more, but my consciousness is telling me my son is likely to wake up with the beep-beep-beep of the alarm being deactivated and reactivated.

Sometime in that in-between state, I start hearing a hish-hish-hish; I feel a presence near me and someone with a deep, male, husky voice is speaking to me, only I can’t understand what he’s saying. It sounds like parseltongue from Harry Potter! I go to move my head, and I can’t; I’m frozen in the bed, unable to move arms, legs, head or trunk, and I’m seeing but I’m not sure if my eyes are open. My chest thumps harder; I shiver and feel the prickling on my arms as the hairs rise. I try to move again, but it’s no use. Finally, I am able shake this thing off and move. I turn, sit up on the bed, and look around. I see nothing; I hear nothing. I want to go back to sleep because I’m still drowsy, but I’m too afraid what just happened. I feel lost, uncertain. What the heck just happened?!

After that “episode,” I called my husband and told him what happened. I sort of laughed about it, but the experience kept nagging at me. What had I experienced? Was there some other-world being in the house with me? Was it a spirit, a ghost? Was it a hallucination spurred on by the meds I was taking? (At this point, I was taking prednisone to help with the connective tissue thing I have going on). I didn’t google it then. I brought it up at my rheumatologist’s appointment and she wrote it down as a side-effect of the prednisone and ordered me to stop taking it.

Life went on as usual, and I didn’t experience that hallucination – or whatever you want to call it – again. I figured yep, that was the prednisone and that was that. Until yesterday morning. This time, I was in my son’s room. Again, it was in the early morning hours, but this time before my husband left for work. I was curled up, uncomfortably, at the foot of my son’s bed (he’s been having sleep/nightmare problems again – another story for another time). I remember turning over on my right side when it started happening again. I heard the hish-hish-hish sound (again – like parseltongue) but this time, a lower, childlike pitch. When I heard it, I tried to turn over, but like last time, I was frozen, stuck in that fetal position on my right. I felt the tightness in my chest, the fear swiftly covering me. There was somewhere there with us, with my son, and I couldn’t move to help either one of us, if needed. So what did I do? I started chanting, in my mind, my Our Father’s and Hail Marry’s and Glory’s I could fathom. I found it somewhat ironic that in my current state of crossroads when it comes to my religious faith, I should resort to the familiar prayers taught to me.

Like the last time, the sensation passed, and though drowsy, I was awake. I looked around my son’s room, looked up at my late-father’s crucifix over my son’s door – the same crucifix that had accompanied my father during his years in the priesthood, a present from his mother on his ordination – and heard nothing, saw nothing. My son was oblivious to anything and sleeping soundly. I returned to my room and told my husband what had happened. We both looked at each other with that “that’s weird” look, but said nothing. He left to work, and I sat in my bed, laptop on lap, and turned to Google.

I have to say what I found was interesting and had nothing to do with the spirits my mind was conjuring up. Apparently, there’s this thing called Sleep Paralysis that happens either right as one is falling asleep, or right as one is waking up. The symptoms are: inability to move limbs or trunk, a feeling of crushing or suffocating (didn’t really have this one), and sometimes, hallucinations, either auditory or visual. I definitely had the auditory ones! Here’s an article I found on About.com regarding this sleep disorder. Before the first episode, I’d never (EVER!) experienced something like this, though I did walk in my sleep when I was younger and I did (and sometimes still do) talk in my sleep.

I guess I’ll be bringing this up to my doctor, though I hope it doesn’t happen again. It’s not a very fun experience.

Has this happened to anyone else?

Blog, Ramblings

Self-Satisfaction

June 13, 2011December 14, 2019 Alexandra Alessandri

Today during dinner, my husband, son, and I sat, eating an array of leftovers that consisted of rice, spaghetti, carrots, pan-fried tilapia, eggs, teriyaki chicken, and salad. We sat, said our prayers, and began chatting about our day. Mid-way through the meal, the conversation went something like this:

“I don’t like salad,” my son says.

“That’s okay,” I reply. “I like it. Do you know what I like about it?”

My son shakes his head.

“The colors.” And he proceeds to name the colors in my salad with me.

Daddy chimes in and says, “Carrots are good for you, baby. They give you super vision, like Superman.”

“I don’t want to be Superman,” my son says.

“Then how about Spiderman? Spiderman eats salad to make him strong.”

My son shakes his head. “I don’t want to be Spiderman.”

“Then, who do you want to be?” I ask.

“No one,” he replies. “I just want to be me.”

My husband and I were caught off guard by the innocent, yet profound statement uttered by my almost-four-year-old.

We spend our lives looking up to and wanting to be others. We look up to role models, and work our behinds off so we can achieve the sliver of fame or recognition or status that we want, because we want to be like someone else. We want money because we want to be like those who are well off. We want those shoes because they’re the latest fashion and all the “cool people” have those shoes – and we want to be one of those “cool people.” We want that car because it says something about a status that we may or may not have. (And by the way, the “we” refers to us as humans, the general population, you, me, the guy in the corner, the girl at the mall. It means everyone.)

Sometimes, we believe we’re happy with who we are and, at times, we are. We like ourselves. But there are other times, and more than once, like during a mid-life crisis, when we just want to be someone else or we want what someone else has. We let ourselves be influenced by this and it clouds our judgement, our actions, our behaviors.

Lukas is on to something. “I just want to be me.” With imperfections and character flaws. I hope I can remember this next time I want to change something about me so I can be like someone else.

Blog, Ramblings

If we spend our lives dreaming, will we ever know when we reach our dream?

May 25, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

This issue of dreams is risky business. We’re always told to dream, and to dream big. Nothing is out of our reach so long as we roll our sleeves back, our pants up, and get neck-deep in the process. We need to get dirty, stress, suffer – and with all the hard work, we’ll get to that dream.

Trouble is, we tend to have many dreams. At least I know I do. It seems as with human nature, we’re not content in reaching one destination. We’re always pushing for more. I can think of a slew of cliched phrases that demonstrate this, starting with: “The grass is always greener on the other side.” I say “starting with” because that’s why we dream. We want something other than what we have in the present. I’m no exception. I’m always dreaming of something else. Fo example, I dream of leaving South Florida. I’m tired of the traffic, the rude (and highly volatile) drivers, the packed cement blocks. I’m tired of the fast-pace of the city. I dream of open land, pastures, green (that doesn’t involved painted trash cans). I dream of friendly people, like those I met in Virginia, who, instead of saluting with the middle finger, gave friendly waves and hellos, even though we were outsiders. I also dream of writing full time. Dedicating the hours while my son is in school, to writing down all these characters and memories that plague my mind. Sometimes, I even dream of inventing some sort of time machine to go back to a healthier, livelier, more energized me.

The problem with these dreams is they interfere with my living today and now. I think there’s a saying that says something akin to: the past already happened, the future is yet to come, but today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present. In dreaming so much of tomorrow, and in working so much for a future (retirement, fame, whatever), we oftentimes neglect today. And in today lies family and friends. When it’s all said and done (I’m just full of cliches today, aren’t I?), what do we have to look back at in our lives? Will we be happy? Will we be satisfied that we did all we could do at each stage?

I find myself often at this point, stuck between the dreamer and the realist. I remember my godparents, who worked their behinds off (might as well keep at it with these trite expressions), saving up for an unsure future, only to die in a plane crash in Long Island, on their way back from Colombia after the Christmas and new year holidays in 1990. What was that worth? Then again, if no planning is done, no dreams to pursue, our future might be just as bleak. There’s no denying that retiring here, with nothing but Social Security (if that) is simply not possible. What’s the right answer? Is there one?

I don’t have the answers. I am pretty sure, though, they lie somewhere between dreaming and planning, drifting and cementing roots. There’s got to be some balance there.

Blog, Ramblings

Who’s Eating My Cucumbers? Pickleworms, That’s Who.

May 21, 2011January 2, 2012 Alexandra Alessandri

My humble vegetable garden is, of late, my pride and joy. Since I don’t have a particularly green thumb, the mere fact that we were able to get seedlings to grow, and we were able to actually harvest what we planted, well, that was an accomplishment.

We harvested a total of six cucumbers before I encountered a nasty pest that has forced us take drastic measures to eradicate it (without having to turn to harsh chemicals or pesticides.) The culprits? Pickleworms.

In case you’d like to see what a pickleworm looks like, here’s one I caught on my cucumber plant. I took the picture after I cut the stem off.

Apparently, pickleworms are larvae from a specific moth, and they attack mostly cucumber, squash, and other cucurbit plants. I spotted the eggs first this morning, though I didn’t know what they were at the time. I just found a bunch of gooey, white blobs around my cucumbers. Then, early this evening, we were performing our normal rounds in our garden: watering, pruning, inspecting. My husband noticed two of the cucumbers were ready to cut, so I got the shears out and was getting ready to cut when I noticed the above critter on one of the cucumbers. It was on the outside, apparently munching on the skin. When I cut the other one, I noticed two minute holes on one side. After my initial gross-out, I gave the cucumber with the worm to my husband so he could take care of it, and I proceeded to dissect the other cucumber. Though it has those two holes, there is no evidence of pickleworm inside, much to my relief. However, I’m not sure if I can do anything with the butchered cucumber, nor do I know if I want to, especially since the holes means the pickleworm was inside that cucumber….that just doesn’t sound very appetizing to me.

We busted out our organic pesticide, chopped off all remaining fruits (all which had pickleworm holes and egg residues) and damaged leaves. Instead of the immense foliage we had, we’re now left with a bare-boned plant. I have no idea if we did the right thing, but after much consulting online, it seems as if there’s little to do once these pests take hold. Very sad day for me.

I also discovered another possible pest: Vegetable leafminer. I’ve been wondering why the leaves of our plants (from the larger cucumber and squash leaves to the small basil ones) have these zigging and zagging lines on them that look like this: