Every time I get a sinus infection, I first assume it’s Bubonic Plague. And it makes no difference that the symptoms are instantly recognizable as those of the non-fatal sickness. As far as I’m concerned, I’m as good as dead.
In a similar way, when my hands are cold, I do some online research and conclude that I have either a blood clot or lupus. If I notice my arms and legs are covered with tiny red spots, I think I’ve contracted Lyme Disease or West Nile Virus or Scarlet Fever, only to later realize that the no-name laundry detergent we bought last month is giving me a rash.
Whatever I’m feeling, somewhere in the world there’s a corresponding ailment or disorder. Regardless of how rare and unlikely that condition may be, if it’s been given a name, I probably have it. Every bump, bruise, blotch, and blister is visible and undeniable proof that the end is near.
Inevitably, however, the evidence disappears, and I survive – at least for a while longer. Self-diagnosis is a bad idea. I think that’s what I’m supposed to admit right here.
On the other hand, sometimes we know ourselves better than any doctor, website, or medical book ever can. For example, I’m pretty sure I have a learning disability. But when I mention this to people, they immediately dismiss my assertion, and insist that I’m being ridiculous.
“You don’t have a learning disability,” they tell me. “You just have too much on your mind.”
That’s what we all say. We need to reassure ourselves and each other that we’re okay, and that we’re simply overworking our poor little brains. We put our wallet in the refrigerator behind the orange juice, and then waste forty-five minutes looking for it, because we’re absorbed in that long list of chores we have to get done. We get into our cars and drive ninety miles past our intended destination, because we’re too preoccupied with important issues to be bothered with details like street signs and exit ramps. We walk around all day with a dryer sheet hanging from the bottom of our pants, because we’re busy solving the mysteries of the universe, which almost never involves inspecting our own ankles.
While I’m certain that I suffer from some sort of impairment, I have no plans to undergo testing or seek treatment. Medical professionals never find anything, anyway, even though I’ve already contracted and recovered from almost every affliction known to science. And they may not identify this one either, but I’m convinced there’s something there.
Learning is a constant struggle.
I’ve done quite a bit of traveling, for example, and have flown more than a hundred times. When the flight attendant explains the safety procedures, I pay close attention. I’m the only person on board who watches the video, and if it’s in more than one language, I keep listening as if I understand what they’re saying. I take the card out and read along, noting the location of all exits. I keep my seatbelt securely fastened, and mentally practice sliding down the emergency chute in case it becomes necessary to evacuate the aircraft. But in the event that I needed to summon enough dexterity to avoid my own death – like if I had to activate the oxygen mask, for instance — I doubt I’d make it. I might remember to tug on the little cord, but it would be just as I was losing consciousness.
It’s the same with the personal flotation devices. While the crew member is explaining where to find our life vests and how to put them on, my mind wanders off, trying to visualize a three-hundred-ton plane smacking into the surface of the ocean without breaking into a million pieces. But it doesn’t matter if I’m six miles up or standing in the backyard. Actions that must be performed in a precise sequence tend to confuse me. When straps have to be adjusted, that just adds to the problem.
I spend hours attempting to assemble a bookcase, including the ones that claim, right on the box, that they can be put together in minutes, and with no tools. If the instructions contain only those wordless diagrams populated by smiling stick figures, it could take days, because I can’t figure out if that short rectangular thing is a bracket or the man’s hat.
The same thing happens when I try to become familiar with a new software program, or use anything digital or electronic, such as an appliance that has more than three buttons. If a device can be programmed or information can be put into its memory, I’ll quickly reach that critical point where all I want to do is put the thing through a wall. I don’t expect to end up there. I usually start out brimming with optimism. I study the manual, and when the frustration becomes too much, I watch the tutorials — over and over. Every time the instructor tells me how easy the process is, I wish I could put him through a wall.
It isn’t that I’m irritable or mean. It’s that I never seem to learn my lesson. Which is what I’ve been telling you all along. In fact, just thinking about these things has now given me a rash on my neck and shoulders. It could be nerves, or that laundry detergent again. More likely, it’s the early stages of some life-threatening illness that hasn’t even been discovered yet. I have No-Brainer Syndrome. I know I do.
Philster999
February 16, 2014
Yeah, uncovering the secrets of the universe should definitely involve reviewing your ankles at some point or another. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that that’s how Hawking determined the existence of black holes. PJ
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bronxboy55
February 17, 2014
And don’t forget Isaac Newton. He was staring at his feet when the apple hit him in the head.
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subodai213
February 16, 2014
Once again, Charles, you have described me. I, too, am unable to follow directions if they come in a precise order. I almost flunked Basic Training because of this-we were doing First Aid (battlefield first aid is NOT a Band-Aid and boo-boo kisses sort of situation). Thank god it wasn’t real world, because when my drill sergeant came to assess my skills at rendering first aid to my ‘casualty’, he said….”great splint on leg, recruit, but your casualty bled to death.”
At least being a tank mechanic, if I did things out of order, my ‘patient’ didn’t die..just wouldn’t start.
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bronxboy55
February 17, 2014
Drill sergeants are so picky, aren’t they?
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subodai213
February 17, 2014
You have NO IDEA………..;-) 😉
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gliderpilotlee
February 16, 2014
Yes, Sir, you have a learning disability. BTW we all do. Now to the kits you would like to assemble — The people that write the directions to the original fabricators/ design persons. Visualize all their mental issues – read their minds – pretend you are Deanna , you know the empath from Star Trek. Good luck,
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bronxboy55
February 17, 2014
I agree with you, Lee. We all have a learning disability in one area or another. Maybe in most areas. It’s just the kids who have problems with reading and math who get the label.
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ranu802
February 16, 2014
This post seems to expose our stupidity don’t you think.Half the time I don’t try to read instructions, because I won’t understand any of it. So I let someone else do it for me.Instructions on the plane is a waste of time because every time I watch and read it I say to myself what’s the use I’ll die anyway.
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bronxboy55
February 17, 2014
I tend to read the instructions if I’m putting together something with a lot of parts. I don’t want to accidentally skip step 4, realize at the very end that I still have three bolts, and then have to start all over.
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Ruth Rainwater
February 16, 2014
I didn’t know that the reason most guys don’t read directions is because they don’t understand them!
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bronxboy55
February 17, 2014
It’s better to look arrogant than stupid. Men instinctively know that.
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subodai213
February 17, 2014
Oh my god, I’m laughing……………….
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morristownmemos by Ronnie Hammer
February 16, 2014
Instructions were never meant to be read and understood; they’re ways to measure stress levels to diagnose your high blood pressure.
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
Sometimes it feels like I’m taking an IQ test, and doing just well enough to know that I’m not very smart.
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Mikels Skele
February 16, 2014
I’m with you on the airplane safety procedures. I worry that they will have moved the location of the flotation device since the last time I flew.
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
On some flights, they tell us that our seats can be used as flotation devices. But I always wonder if the seats are designed for that, or if they mean anything you can manage to rip out of the airplane might float.
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Mikels Skele
February 18, 2014
The latter, I’m sure. Tie together enough styrofoam cups…
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Kathryn McCullough
February 16, 2014
I hope you are still alive by the time I finish writing this. I fear, it could be touch or go. Frankly, if you don’t respond to this comment quickly enough I may have to call in the national guard.
Seriously, the cartoons were LAUGH-OUT-LOUD funny!
Hugs from Ecuador,
Kathy
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
No need for the national guard, Kathy, but thank you for your concern. Actually, I’ve been feeling pretty good lately.
(I shouldn’t have said that.)
I hope you and Sara are doing well.
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thecontentedcrafter
February 16, 2014
Nice!! I laughed out loud and arrived safely at the end with all my self esteem intact because two days ago I put together a ‘thing’ that arrived with wordless instructions – without breaking a sweat 🙂 And I did it in under 40 minutes 🙂 [Happy dance!!] First time ever Charles, so I guess my message to you is – you can recover from this affliction, I apparently have [I’d put in more smiley faces, but it seems a trifle ott]
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
Congratulations on assembling that thing. Did you remember to tighten the lock nuts in step 12B?
OTT — is that over the top? More stuff I can’t seem to learn.
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desertdweller29
February 16, 2014
I think I suffer the same affliction. I’ve sworn off Web MD and testing myself for Lyme’s. Be well 🙂
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
The problem is that there are too many symptoms and not enough diseases. I’m just not sure what to do about it.
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D Holcomb
February 16, 2014
Yep, that’s me to a T. Except for the airplane thing. I don’t fly.
Two words: Neti pot (to prevent sinus infections)
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
I actually haven’t had a sinus infection in several years. But now that I’ve jinxed myself, I’d better go find out what neti pot is. Thanks.
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Terese
February 16, 2014
My favorite is when I walk to the pantry and stand in front of it and wonder why I am there in the first place! Blessings!
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
I think that’s why people talk to themselves. If you state your intentions out loud — “I’m going to get a jar of mayonnaise” — you’re less likely to forget. Maybe.
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cat
February 16, 2014
Your blog is such a hoot to read … you are brilliant … thank you for making me smile … again … Love, cat.
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
Thank you, cat. You always have something nice to say.
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Doug Bittinger
February 16, 2014
“We put our wallet in the refrigerator behind the orange juice,”
Not me, no sir! I never do that.
I find mine in the freezer.
As for the rest of it: I find myself identifying with your plight. I blame it all on the internet. The good part is that it makes an unimaginable amount of information available to us with just a few keystrokes. The bad part is that it makes an unimaginable amount of information available to us with just a few keystrokes. Some of us should not be allowed to know so much. Especially when some strange red spots break out while the stewardess is explaining the flotation device procedure. Life IS a challenge!
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
Doug, I agree that the Internet has a lot of flaws, but this blogging thing — and the chance to meet people like you — more than makes up for them.
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Lola Rugula
February 16, 2014
We’ve obviously never been on the same airplane, or you’d have seen me paying rapt attention to the videos and flotation device instructions, also. I can, however, assemble furniture from IKEA within minutes…maybe I’m some sort of ready-to-assemble savant. It’s a nice thought.
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bronxboy55
February 18, 2014
Lola, just ten minutes ago I was trying to fold one of those one-piece cardboard boxes. The instructions are printed right on the box, but as soon as you complete the first step, the rest of the steps are covered up by the flaps. Who designs these things? (Obviously not IKEA.)
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Lola Rugula
February 22, 2014
I often wonder who gets the job of writing and illustrating the instructions. And, on a really bad day at work, do they intentionally do things to mess with us? I think so.
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chagrinnamontoast
February 16, 2014
Oh gosh. I now have another malady to add to this list.
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bronxboy55
February 19, 2014
The list just keeps growing, doesn’t it?
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chagrinnamontoast
February 19, 2014
Seriously. Symptom Checker has not helped me.
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suburbanlife
February 16, 2014
Well, they can bury me with my Frequent Flyer card still a virgin. The last time I flew, I watched the safety demonstration whilst completely blotto from Ativan, and couldn’t care less about the oxygen thingy, flotation devices and their whereabouts or of safety exits and chutes. I kept thinking, like any self-respecting crew, the airline personnel would go down with the airship, such a pity! On landing, I make it a practice to fall on my knees and kiss the ground for having been delivered safely.
As to following directions for assembly or functioning of machines and furniture, count me in as one of the disabled. We used to help our son assemble model airplanes back in the 80s. Often the kits came bilingual – English?Japanese- the English version almost impossible to follow. Hara-kiri came to mind often, as to how to deal with model airplane assembly failure!
As to Hypochondria, it seems to be the most often contracted disease these days, and few of us are immune
Snarf saline solution for your sinuses, pop two aspirins and call me in the morning! If you are still kicking, that is. G
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bronxboy55
February 19, 2014
I had to change a toner cartridge in a fax-printer last night. The directions consisted of six wordless pictures — and the first three were showing how to get the new cartridge out of the package. It took me over an hour to get the thing printing again.
I love that phrase: completely blotto.
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atkokosplace
February 16, 2014
When I can’t remember something I swear it’s the brain worms working over drive!
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bronxboy55
February 19, 2014
Now I’ll probably have nightmares about brain worms tonight.
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atkokosplace
February 19, 2014
Heehee 😀
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Chichina
February 16, 2014
A dryer sheet still clinging to the bottom of your pants? Priceless and hilarious. Whenever I fly I have a deal going with God that he allow me to die on the return trip from the Caribbean after I’ve sunned and drowned myself in pina coladas.
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bronxboy55
February 19, 2014
The dryer sheet thing happened to me yesterday morning. Luckily, I was still home when I spotted it.
Wouldn’t it be better to die in the Caribbean — while sunning and drowning in pina coladas?
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Chichina
February 19, 2014
That is hilarious…….Yes… Your death plan is a sound one………
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JM Randolph
February 16, 2014
I once worked with a guy who used to have the job of assembling the floor models at IKEA. He said one time they opened up the boxes for a large entertainment center and the instructions consisted of two stick figures with fishing poles, walking and waving.
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
That’s what I see when I look at the instructions for almost everything. And one of the stick figures is usually wishing me luck.
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Jackie Cangro
February 16, 2014
I’ve learned an important lesson regarding illnesses — whatever you do, don’t search for your symptoms on the internet. No matter what your symptoms are, you’ll either learn that your death is imminent or you’ll find yourself redirected to some very sketchy websites.
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
It must drive doctors crazy, too, having all these patients coming in with a preconceived diagnosis.
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She's a Maineiac
February 17, 2014
I feel the same way. I wish my ability to operate the DVR was as strong as my ability to dream up pretend ailments.
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
Maybe you could start dreaming up pretend ailments for the DVR.
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Stacie Chadwick
February 17, 2014
No Brainer Syndrome. Love it. On a more practical note, have you ever tried a nasal rinse (water and salt) for your sinus infections?
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
I haven’t had a sinus infection in quite a few years, Stacie, but I do remember trying that. It seemed to work after about three days, which was exactly how long I’d been on antibiotics.
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Sue
February 17, 2014
I have to hide my husbands electric drill when he has to assemble something new. It never fails that the manufacturer has either put the holes in the wrong spot or forgotten to drill them all together. Read instructions….never.
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
From the Husband Code Book, section 12, paragraph 3: “A few extra holes never hurt anything.”
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Wyrd Smythe
February 17, 2014
“It’s never Lupus!” 😀
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
Which leads you to ask — why does the word even exist?
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Wyrd Smythe
February 21, 2014
“Sometimes it’s Lupus.”
And anyway, don’t you also need words for what things are not? “Bieber” for example. The only reason that word needs to exist is to describe things that aren’t it.
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nailingjellotoatree
February 17, 2014
Charles, you’ve just nailed nursing students! We keep diagnosing ourselves with all sorts of scary diseases! Great post!
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
Have you ever seen The Disorderly Orderly? It’s a Jerry Lewis movie, but if you’re in the right frame of mind, parts of it are pretty funny.
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Wyrd Smythe
February 21, 2014
I was in the right frame of mind a lot in college, and you’re right: hysterical!! Likewise Monty Python. The right frame of mind raises them to epic funniness!
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icedteawithlemon
February 17, 2014
“You just have too much on your mind” is the exact excuse I tell myself every time I can’t remember where I was going or what I was doing–or every time I find the phone in the vegetable crisper or last month’s trash bill in the bottom of my purse. And although I haven’t flown nearly as often as you, I always, always count the rows between my seat and the nearest exit (and never, never use the restroom on the plane because I don’t want to be trapped in there–or found in there–when the plane goes down). If neurosis is a symptom of No-Brainer Syndrome, then I think I have it, too.
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bronxboy55
February 20, 2014
I think neurosis is a sign of intelligence. Or maybe not, but you and I should try to convince ourselves of it anyway.
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Betty Londergan
February 17, 2014
There is NO way you have a learning disability, Charles — not with your rapt attention to grammar, punctuation and spelling (unless that all can be attributed to FON — fear of nuns). I love reading your posts because I just get these great visual images of you trying so hard to do what’s legitimately expected: like, memorize the safety instructions for an emergency landing (bend over and kiss your butt goodbye) … although I secretly suspect you’re probably one of the more competent folks I know… and certainly the one I’d want on my life raft!
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bronxboy55
February 22, 2014
I’d be happy to join you in the life raft, Betty. Just make sure it’s pre-inflated.
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earthriderjudyberman
February 17, 2014
Hysterical and, yet, so on target. I’ve driven past my exit. Heck, I’ve even driven by my own house cuz I’m too focused on something from my ancient past or near future that I have no control over.
Your medical concerns are the exact reasons why I refuse to have a medical manual in our home. I just know I’d come down with everything listed. 😉
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bronxboy55
February 22, 2014
I’ve driven right past my own house, too, Judy. I once left a store and got into the wrong car. As usual, I caught on just in time.
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earthriderjudyberman
February 22, 2014
I’ve only gotten as far as trying to unlock the wrong car and wondering what was wrong. Yeah, I caught on, too. I’ll admit I’m a Waring Blender – a real vegematic. 😉
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Barbara Rodgers
February 18, 2014
Charles, as a fellow hypochondriac and one who is too easily confused and overwhelmed, you’ve got me laughing out loud!
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bronxboy55
February 22, 2014
Thanks, Barbara. I think it’s better if we just admit these things.
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Choosing
February 18, 2014
That’s the problem with Google, isn’t it? You type in some harmless symptoms and it will tell you you are actually dying… 😉 Concerning assembling things: I sometimes have problems to put the little toys together you find in the chocolate surprise eggs for children… And they are supposed to be from 3 years up…
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bronxboy55
February 22, 2014
Kinder Surprise. Yes, the surprise for people like us is how complicated those little toys are. Luckily, there’s usually a young child who’s breathing down our necks, and who knows exactly how to put the thing together.
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rangewriter
February 18, 2014
I think if my plane hits the water with me still in it, I’ll be grabbing the guy next to me and hoping he’s got enough blubber to keep us both afloat!
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bronxboy55
February 22, 2014
Linda, have you ever seen the movie, Cast Away? I can’t even watch the crash scene. I think it’s pretty close to how that kind of accident would go.
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silkpurseproductions
February 19, 2014
When I finally give in and start watching the tutorial videos I end up zoning out within seconds and have to play them over and over.
If there is ever a shortage of steel, I think we could all collect those allen key things they put in the do it yourself furniture and solve the problem. Who doesn’t have a collection of those?
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bronxboy55
February 23, 2014
I have that collection, too, Michelle. There’s going to come a time when those will be the exact things I need to solve some problem. And if not, I’ll have something to leave to my children.
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Bruce
February 20, 2014
An entertaining read Charles. I like the ‘guy on the steps’ cartoon; made me laugh.
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bronxboy55
February 23, 2014
Thanks, Bruce. I’m glad you liked it. And I hope you’re enjoying your summer — there are a lot of envious people up here right now.
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Bruce
February 24, 2014
You guys have sure copped a hammering. It’s in the news a lot here.Where I live, the summer has been pretty good; in other parts of Australia they haven’t had a good time. With runs of 10 days at 45C+ and nights of 30C they’d want to swap with you. Lots of drought areas again here as well.
Spring must be looking very good this year.
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bronxboy55
February 28, 2014
I watched a movie called Arctic Blast last night. It’s about an environmental catastrophe — caused by man, of course — that puts parts of Australia into a fatal freeze. Have you seen it?
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Bruce
February 28, 2014
I haven’t Charles. Hope you enjoyed it, is it a good movie? Probably a few good citizens here who would like an arctic blast at the moment.
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bronxboy55
March 2, 2014
It’s the typical disaster movie, Bruce — one expert notices an impending catastrophe, and nobody believes him. Then, when it’s almost too late, he has to save the planet. It’s well-done, though.
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Patti Kuche
February 21, 2014
Is it ok to admit my sense of triumph when my rash was diagnosed as Scarlet Fever? My mother thought I was trying to get out of school.
Thank you so much Charles for reminding me why I don’t use dryer sheets, at least I don’t think I do.
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bronxboy55
February 23, 2014
Is scarlet fever as bad as it sounds? I always imagine the person bursting into flames. That didn’t happen to you, did it?
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dnsumm1
February 21, 2014
Thank you for making me laugh! I look forward to reading your blog in the future 🙂
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bronxboy55
February 23, 2014
Thanks, Danielle. I look forward to hearing from you again.
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daisy
February 22, 2014
Hi Charles, this paragraph really stood out to me, “On the other hand, sometimes we know ourselves better than any doctor, website, or medical book ever can. For example, I’m pretty sure I have a learning disability. But when I mention this to people, they immediately dismiss my assertion, and insist that I’m being ridiculous.” I’m sorry that people have dismissed your concern. Learning disabilities manifest in any number of ways. Even the same type of disability can look quite different between two different people. As amusing as your post was (and you made me smile) I do feel that you should trust yourself. Whatever it is that’s concerning you shouldn’t be ignored. People may be dismissing you, or laughing it off as you’ve mentioned, because they see you as smart and capable, and maybe in their minds that means that you cannot have “trouble” learning. But take dyslexia for example. It’s a learning disability, and it’s something that appears regardless of intelligence level or even socio-economic status. A person does not have dyslexia because they’re not smart; often dyslexics are smarter and more creative than average. It’s a real concern, and it’s important to remember that a disability, whatever it is, does not define you. How you handle it does. I know you know all this — I’m just trying to be a friend in your corner.
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bronxboy55
February 23, 2014
Melissa, just yesterday someone read a code to me over the phone. It was a long string of letters and numbers, and I mistakenly wrote M when she’d said W. That made me wonder if I have vertical dyslexia, a term I thought I made up on the spot, but that actually exists.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone has learning disabilities. We tend to use the label only when the person struggles with reading, writing, or math, but life comprises much more than those three areas. And I’m actually grateful for my weaknesses. Wouldn’t it be pretty boring if we were all good at everything?
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genusrosa
February 22, 2014
Your post made me laugh! I think you need the rx that Jerome K. Jerome’s doctor wrote out for him….
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bronxboy55
February 23, 2014
Perfect rest does sound kind of appealing, doesn’t it? Although a little scary, at the same time.
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accidentallyreflective
March 5, 2014
LOL! Love this post! I have had moments like this myself many a time, convinced that I have something serious and googling it, scaring myself only to recover within the day… thankfully I might add! Phew!
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bronxboy55
March 11, 2014
Maybe the sense of relief we feel in the end is actually better for us than the so-called positive attitude that’s exhibited by the less paranoid.
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lostnchina
March 10, 2014
“You don’t have a learning disability,” they tell me. “You just have too much on your mind.” Truer words have never been spoken, Charles – and I tell myself this all the time, but, unfortunately, can never remember to do so.
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bronxboy55
March 11, 2014
We could remind each other. It’s worth a try, anyway.
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dorannrule
March 23, 2014
Somehow I recognize myself in your post and more than once. That’s why I’m laughing and following your blog now. Thanks for giving me the giggles. 🙂
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bronxboy55
March 26, 2014
And thank you for the kind words. I look forward to hearing from you again!
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