A Radical Sabbatical

Thank god the anatomy midterm is over! Why is it that when students from my class see me before and after a test, they come over and ask me an anatomy question thinking, I know the correct answer?  Do I look like a geek who has all the answers? Just because I’m older than the rest of the class does that automatically mean I have all the answers? 

Actually, I’m quite flattered that my fellow peers think I might know the right answer.  However, I’m always quite amused by it all. 

The midterm was not as difficult as the Professor made it out to be.  I can see why multiple choices are wrecklessly dangerous and when you get to the fill ins, u sort of wish they were multiple choices available.  The diagrams were easier than I expected but the three essays were thought provoking.  I still can’t figure what the outcome for me on this exam will be but I do know one thing, I am going to start studying for the next test now.

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The History of the Middle Finger

And yew thought yew knew every plucking thing.

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I am absolutely numb from just reviewing the first chapter in my Anatomy book.  We are required to know the first 300 pages in our textbook in addition to diagrams.  As I was reviewing my notes from day 1, the first thing that popped up in my head while testing myself on naming the tissues in the body was to say, Kleenex, Americas choice, …………

Its one thing to have to memorize one chapter but eight chapters is a bit much.  I’m trying not to stress over this but its not easy.  I want to do well but why do I have to prove it through a test?  I mean, afterall, I can fail a test but still have learnt a great deal.  Its just mind boggling and I will have much more empathy on my son.

Then again, I can’t believe how little time I have for doing things I had started out thinking I would do during this sabbatical.  I had hoped to clean out Sharon’s room and turn it into something nice.  I’ve thrown alot of junk in there.  I had hoped to clean up the basement, empty out the attic and maybe even the garage. 

I’ve spent more time in the campus library then I do with Ed and this weekend is going to be even worse.  How do these students manage absorbing all this info?  Just thinking about all the information I need to remember makes me dizzy.  Maybe I can claim the bird ate my book or I got stuck in an elevator all weekend and didn’t have my books on me?

Oh well, thank god its friday……but which to choose to do? studying? or  lemon drop martini? studying? or lemon drop martini? studying? or lemon drop martini? lemon drop martini? l e mmmmmmmm  ooo hot m artinnnnnnnnnnnniii

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The Professor had a look of total dissatisfaction when she walked into the classroom holding our test papers in her hands.  Shaking her head, she stated that 75% of the class had failed her “quiz” and she could not understand what our problem with this was?  I immediately turned to my buddy Jean and said, I don’t know what you plan to claim, but I plan to claim alzheimers.

Jean had failed the first quiz and I specifically told her that I was not well versed on the larynx and should not think of copying off my paper for the second quiz…lol.  Well, Jean and I got the same grade on the second quiz and we both laughed. I looked at her and said, “u didn’t did u?”   Of course, those of us who did poorly are suppose to feel better by the fact that the teacher will drop your lowest grade on the quizes.  Then why bother with two midterms for gripes sake?  What happens when u know the material on the quizes but now have to go back and study from the beginning for the midterm?  Seems like cheap thrills for the professor.  I think they love to watch us sweat.

The professor informed us that next weeks midterm is on the first 300 pages of the textbook!    All I can say is  $%@#&^%##$%@#  Is it time to graduate yet?

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Oh man, learning to swim is so not easy.  I can’t seem to get the rhythm of using my arms, paddling my feet and bringing my head up for air all at the same time and without swallowing water.  I was never good at multi-tasking.  And swimming seems to be the ultimate multi-tasking event I’ve been confronted with in a long time.   Well actually, thats not true.  I multi-task daily, but with my head above water.

I couldn’t help but wonder how swimming first started out?  Who figured out how to swim and who came up with all the strokes?  Did the caveman jump in the lake and suddenly realize he needed to use his arms so that he wouldnt drown?  Did Moses swim across the ocean before he parted the water?  

I actually swam across the pool today, using a board and fins.  Jeesh! those fins have you flying across the water.  I actually learned to use the board, keep my head in the water, use one arm at a time letting go of the board and bringing my head up for air.  It all went fine until the teacher took my board away.  Than I swallowed enough water to go thru detox.  Getting water in your lungs is no fun but I tolerated the event. 

My teacher threatened to be tough with me next week if I didn’t swim without the board across the pool.   Hmmm, he’s gonna get tough with me?  what does that mean? put me in the kiddie pool next time?  make me wear nose plugs maybe?  Jeesh! I can’t imagine what he meant by that statement but all I know is I still want to dive into the pool at the deep end.   I’ll probably never be Esther Williams but then again, Esther Williams will never be me.

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It’s been a most interesting weekend away from home.  We (meaning the family), went up to Toronto, Canada for a family wedding.  One might have also been able to say this was a family re-union of sorts.  You see, when I was growing up on the lower east side and then in Queens, my parents would often take us to Toronto and Rochester to visit our only extended family.  The Freedmans were my father’s first cousins.  I’m still not sure how we’re related to the Rochester Zysman family but it really doesn’t matter, because we are whether we are or not.

Being that I grew up in a home without grandparents, uncles or aunts, these people in Toronto & Rochester/Buffalo were the only extended family I had.  I considered all the children my first cousins (knowing they weren’t).   They too would come down to New York and we were always together for happy occassions.  I remember flying to Toronto on a whim, just wanting to get away from NYC and hang with my cousins.

Over time, the natural course of life took over.  I visited with them less and less and celebrated less and less good times with them.  They had their families, I had mine.  Our parents had second homes in Florida near one another but with time, they all grew old and eventually, the visits stopped due to the aging process taking over the mind and the body.   But I always thought of my adopted uncles and aunts. Unfortunately, two of them are very removed from the family and so communication stopped.  But Jack and Salla mean a great deal to me as the parents were very close and we grew up with their children.

Re-uniting this weekend and seeing those I have not seen in years was exciting.  Suddenly, we were no longer the kids at the kids table.  We were no longer making fun of our parents dancing on the dance floor.  Suddenly, looking around me, my kids, my cousins kids (all in their 20’s), were getting to know each other and it was as if I were looking into a mirror and now I was the one on the dance floor looking at the kids sitting at the tables.

I cried after approaching my “aunt” because she didn’t know who I was. She could not recall my name though her husband did.  He looked very sad and almost embarrassed by what time has done to him and his wife.  I tried to tease him as I use to do years ago, but he looked at me with his sad eyes and said in Yiddish, “Pearl,nothing is what it was, she’s not (points to his wife) and I am not (pointing to himself).” 

I should have come years ago, I should have made a point of being around more often.  I should have realized that this was the only extended family I really have.  I should have been less self-centered and more attuned to the aging process that would inevitably take its toll.  But all those years ago, I didn’t believe that time changes people.  Now, time has passed and the clock ticks ever so slowly on them and they no longer remember who I am or why I am here……it’s all so sad!  and its life and I know it doesn’t have to be oh so sad but it is because they are.

We can put men and women on the moon, we can scan our bodies with special equipment for early cancer detection so why can’t we make growing old a bit more pleasant for those who are so sad and suffering? 

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What a day!  My brain could not handle anymore studying….two tests tomorrow, one midterm and one “regular” test.  Well, I so happened to be on campus today because my dad finally decided to get hearing aids and I was taking him to the people I trust most. After two and a half hours of personal attention, my father agreed to purchase two oticon go hearing aids.   In anycase, I ran into my Professor who is having a proctor give us the midterm tomorrow nite.  Due to the Jewish Holidays, the Professor will not be there.  Anyway, she asked me if I was prepared for the midterm and I told her that my brains were trying to hold onto information for two tests tomorrow and why can’t the professors coordinate tests on different days?   She laughed. Ten minutes later, she approached me and offered me to take the midterm with the religious students on Sunday the  14th of October.  My response was, “but I’m not religious and I don’t feel right doing that.”    She shrugged her shoulders and said okay.   The minute she walked away, it was like a light bulb went off in my head………….PEARL, THE PROF OFFERED YOU AN OUT SO YOU CAN FOCUS ON SPANISH HONEY! WAKE UP AND SMELL THE “A”. So I ran after her and asked if I could still take her up on the offer and she said sure.  I thanked her …….profusely! and maybe a bit too much…..but I was grateful for her kindness.   When I walked back to my father he said to me in yiddish, is that one of the students?  I said, that’s my Professor.  With which he responded, zee is zayear shain a bissel yink. ze can zain aiyer tuchtour.

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IT SUCKS!

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I whole heartedly feel sad for college and high school kids these days.  They are so stressed to the max on trying to figure out what it is they want to do with their life?  In reality, there is no one career that we are made for.  We can certainly find that we are interested in two if not three or four career paths in our life.

The problem is, we don’t necessarily discover these options until we are several years down the road into our “chosen” path.   I mean, come on, does a 15 year old really know exactly what it is they want to be for the rest of there life or even a 20 year old?  And is it realistic for them to have blinders on during their four years in college focusing only on one path?

Years ago, high school supposedly prepared us for something, not sure what but some line of work.  Not everyone who graduated high school went onto college, but it was always a wise choice to make and still is.

The last decade has seen major stresses put on high school kids to not only perform academically but to have a good idea of their path for college.  Kids are uploading their schedules with volunteer work (to show the college admissions office that you have a good heart), A.P. classes (to show you have the smarts), SAT scores in the 1550-1600 range (to show that you were majorly tutored),  and spent your summers during high school in college prep programs or in Africa or China (to show the college admissions office that you have money).  I mean, could u imagine if no one ever had tutoring or extracurricular activities or attended summer programs? Maybe for once we would see how students fair.  But god forbid parents allowed that to happen….lol

Than you go to college and spend four to five years of your life in what you think you want to do because everyone has told you thats what you should do.  Everyone from your teachers, advisors, family and your career tests.

I’m 54 years old now and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  But what I have finally discovered is that I am good at and very interested in more than just social work.

When I attended high school, you couldn’t get me to stay in a classroom.  There was nothing more that I hated than sitting through algebra (just show me how to balance a check book and use a credit card), science (disecting the frog didn’t teach me to tolerate being in the kitchen well), english (not language arts, not communication art but good ole english), workshops (sewing class, cooking class and woodworking) and gym.  Oh man how I hated gym.  Those blue uniforms and the teachers telling us to jump the horse and walk the beam.  I was never coordinated enough to do those things in high school.

College however, was a different story.  I never knew what I wanted to be in my first three years of college other than to major in socializing and hanging out in the student government office.   I did not have many choices but to either graduate with a liberal arts degree, drop out or major in something that would give me a masters as well.  I wanted something that would get me out of school fast with the least amount of time spent in school, and because I was good at all the volunteer work I did at that time, I chose Social Work. 

Looking back now, there would not have been too many choices for me.  But at this point in my life, the here and now, I am envious of all the choices college students have at their fingertips.   That doesn’t mean to say that they will know who or what they want to be but career paths are different now then 30 years ago.  The choices are at an abundance.

Over the past two to three years I’ve discovered that I have a real knack for many new and exciting fields out there.  Career paths that would just thrill me and give me less agita than I have at my current workplace.  Deep down in my heart though, I know that I am good at working with the families I work with. I have what it takes for being resourceful and discovered that I can be resourceful not just in social work but in many other areas of life.  I’ve also discovered that I am interested in other things besides work and soap operas.  I am  learning to swim and get over my fear of water.  I am writting blogs, learning more about the mechanics of computers from Adams’ educational programs at www.thefattytalks.com/technology-education/  and reading more.

Life is certainly full of surprises and discovering that I actually like anatomy at this point in my life has just blown me away. I feel blessed to have options and I can only hope that others feel the same way.  I guess this is exactly the reason why (can you hear the violins playing) thousands of people will risk their lives crossing deserts in extreme heat or swim oceans to come to the U.S.   We have something they want and its not just the money, its the options we take for granted that others would die for. 

I’ve never felt I have more options than I do at this point in life. I have good friends that I’ve chosen very carefully to be involved with, great family (who I haven’t exactly chosen..lol), a husband I love and care for endlessly, children (who are now young adults) and who I adore and would die for, and I surround myself with people who love me and I love.  What more can you ask for?  College should be viewed as a special part of your life.  A time for socializing and learning.  A time for independence and yearnings.  A time to pick and choose and focus on something that will take u to the next level in your life, until you’re ready to move on again.

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My brain is on lock down right now and can’t hold any more info.  I have two exams this week and one of them is a midterm.  How do they expect our brains to hold all this information?  and why don’t these professors coordinate their test schedules?

There should be a rule, no more than one test a day allowed.  I’m running into a real problem with spanish.  One part of the exam will be listening comprehension.  DUH! how is a deaf/hearing impaired person suppose to respond to this?

I discussed it with the professor and her response was (in a very heavy latin american accent….i think), “Pearl, I will repeat many times for you…okay?”   NO PROF, no okay, no bien, comprendo pero yo no HEAR bien. 

So how many times is it okay to tell her to repeat? five times? ten times or when we hit twenty do I shrug my shoulders and say, forget it?   Its not as though I can lipread her because I just can’t.  I’m a lousy lipreader and was never good at it even in english, my home language. 

I’m much better at reading body language.  But since I am not proficient in spanish, it would be hard for me to read the professor.  Okay, I probably should tell her that I cannot take a comprehension exam, its just not possible.  I’ll discuss it with her tomorrow.  Maybe she’ll offer to give it to me in writing but that defeats the purpose of that part of the exam.  So, does that mean that deaf/hard of hearing students should not be allowed to learn a new language?  pffffffffffftt

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