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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I live in Austin, Texas, with my partner, Ray, and our child dog, Mocha. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘illness’



Here, there, everywhere

Friday, July 3rd, 2009

I’m currently sitting in seat 5B on an AnadoluJet flight from Ankara to Sanli Urfa in the southeast part of Turkey.  We’ve been moving rather quickly these past couple of days — while we were sitting in the airport in Antalya, from whence we departed just a couple of hours ago, we had to take a moment to reflect on the fact that we have been in the country all of three days.  It feels like we’ve been here much longer.

In all honesty, this program has gone much better than I had let myself hope.  The organization that I’m working with is somewhat legendary for packing the itineraries on these trips so full that at least half of the participants wind up having to sit out a day or two due to illness incurred from lack of sleep.  Hence, I’m rather pleased that it does appear that they listened to my pleas not to overschedule the program, even if at first glance it may not have appeared as such.

When last I checked in, I was on an early morning flight to Izmir, Turkey’s third largest city.  I’ve never actually been to Izmir, and that, unfortunately, didn’t really change this time either.  We were met at Adnan Menderes airport and boarded a bus from which we went directly to the Greco-Roman city of Ephesus, an hour south.

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This was the group photo that we took that somehow I never wound up actually being in.  (“Hang on, I’m going to use my timer … where are you all going?”)  Oh, well.

There are, for the record, a lot more photos on my Flickr account.  As I’m doing most of my blogging offline, it’s very difficult for me to link to them from here, but check them out, OK?

Where was I?  Ephesus.  It’s a large old city, and I’ve been there before.  Still looks old.  The new attractions this time around were that the very large amphitheater was open (last time it was closed), although I walked in, took one look, and realized that I would have given myself heatstroke walking up to the top.  Instead, I discovered the other new attraction: Royal Caribbean and Celebrity Cruises pay local people to dress up like Romans and act out cheese-tastic skits for their passengers coming in from the nearby port of Kusadasi.

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This appeared to be a swordfighting match – it was kind of hard to tell, since the two fighters just yelled a lot a la Conan the Barbarian.  I guess that’s what you have to do with such a multilingual crowd.

After Ephesus, we went up the hill to the Meryamane Evi, the house where it is reputed where the Virgin Mary lived her last years in this earthy existence.  Most of you probably do not recall (as I don’t think I blogged it at the time), but the last time I was at Meryamane, one of the people in my group pitched a complete and utter fit in the parking lot because one of the interpretive signs at the site said that Mary lived there “until she died.”  As good Catholics know (and this woman was a better Catholic than you, and wanted everyone to know it) Mary did not die — she fell asleep and was lifted into heaven by angels.  The fact that she had earlier sneered that Eastern Orthodoxy was still full of superstitious beliefs that had been removed from Catholicism was an irony lost only on her.

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Anyway, as pieces of real estate went, Mary had a pretty nice one.  It’s set on a hilltop just outside where the walls of the city of Ephesus would have been located amongst the fir trees and pleasant flowering vines, and it catches a nice sea breeze coming in off of the Aegean Sea.  I should be so lucky.

Then came the visit to the pottery factory.  I’m always resistant to these sorts of “quick visits to a local factory” because they inevitably turn into sales pitches, but it wasn’t bad as these things go … and it turns out that membership has its privileges.  She knew the group we were with and offered us a 50% discount on the spot.  Unfortunately, that means that most of it was still out of my price range, but …

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Purdy, ain’t it?

After that, lunch at a ranch … that turned out to just be a ranch.  No actual house there — we thought we had been invited to someone’s home for lunch, and that turned out not to be the case.  They did, however, have a random yurt in the yard, which got us going on at length about words that are fun to say — “yurt” being one of them.

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Yurt!

So, after the yurt excursion, we did a double-shot in Selcuk to the site of the Basilica of St. John and the so-called Jesus Mosque.  The problem with the first is that they don’t actually know who St. John was — they’re not sure if it’s the Apostle, the one who wrote the Gospels, the one who wrote Revelation, or a completely different John.

It’s a prettier site than I remembered, though:

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Next door is the mosque of Isabey.  Isa is the Islamic name of Jesus, but despite the fact that everyone said it was the Jesus mosque, it turns out that it was named for some guy who lived in the thirteenth century named — you guessed it, Isabey.  Close, but no cigar.

After that was our first visit to a school on this trip, which was interesting.  As of now, we’ve had three with a fourth pending.

Shortly after the school visit, it was back to Adnan Menderes airport for a flight to Antalya that arrived at 11:30 pm.  Exhausted,we trundled off to the Marmara Hotel, which turned out to be a five star deluxe on the coast (not to be confused with “the beach”).  But when your coast looks like this, who cares?

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The day was fraught with various ventures: morning visit to the Antalya Museum, followed by lunch at a local school, followed by a walking tour of old Antalya that lasted for three whole blocks.  Again, when the blocks look like this, who am I to complain?

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This was followed by the inevitable shopping excursion to a carpet store.  The guide was very sneaky on that front — after consulting with our hosts, the four of us had unanimously decided that there would be no carpet shopping.  Then prayer time came and the three of them went into a nearby mosque to pray …and so the tour guide suggested that a nice place to wait for them might be the carpet shop.  Ha ha!  I went into the mosque and sat in the air conditioning instead.  If I buy a carpet — and that’s a big if — I’ll do it in Istanbul at the end.  I’m flirting with overweight luggage flying domestically in Turkey and I don’t need that weighing on my conscious.

I’m going to wrap up this narrative here.  At the moment it’s half past midnight in Sanliurfa (see map), and although I’m wide awake, balancing a hot laptop on my stomach isn’t the best thing to do to get ready for bed.  More later …

Captain Trips

Friday, May 1st, 2009

It’s official.  I’m over the swine flu thing.

I don’t mean that I contracted the illness and recovered.  I mean that I’m over the non-stop media frenzy over the disease in which not a single one of the media outlets is actually reporting what anyone with half a brain can tell: NO ONE KNOWS WHAT’S ACTUALLY GOING ON.

Cue, for example, the jumble of headlines I saw this morning on my way into the office.  The New York Times was reporting that the virus appears to be slowing down.  USA Today, however, screamed that the World Health Organization was moving the pandemic level up another number.  “It’s a 5!  It’s almost a 6!  That’s the highest number there is!  They might have to invent a 7 just for this disease!”

Several of the more sensible (cue finger quotes) outlets are beginning to run the story that the hysteria about swine flu might just be far worse than the disease itself.

I had a real wall-banger moment the other day when I saw that Israeli politician Yakov Litzman suggested that the name “swine flu” was inappropriate because of the swine=not kosher connection (a couple of the more politically correct news orgs ran headlines, “Is the name ‘swine flu’ offensive to Jews and Muslims?”), and suggested instead that the flu be named the “Mexican flu.”  Because it’s apparently better to offend Mexicans than Jews or Muslims.

(For the record, the Jews and Muslims that I work with were all rolling their eyes over that one.  “It’s not like you’re impure if you catch the disease just because it’s named for a pig!”)

Even better is this little ditty from Qatar Airways:

Qatar Airways requires that all operating crew wear masks on flights from the United States – namely daily services from New York, Washington DC and Houston.

The airline has taken additional mandatory measures for all 1,100 flight deck and 3,400 cabin crew to be vaccinated against influenza to limit the risk of contamination to passengers and staff. The flu vaccine is a protective measure and only protects against a certain strain of flu, not swine flu, which is at the centre of the current health concerns.

Passengers on Qatar Airways’ flights originating from the US to Doha are being issued with masks upon boarding and advised to wear them inflight. In addition, all Qatar Airways’ customer contact staff in the United States and at Doha International Airport are required to wear masks.

Seriously.  How about giving all of the passengers little bottles of Purell and towlettes to wipe themselves down with, given the number of surfaces on your standard airliner that test positive for fecal bacteria?

None of this is to belittle the illness itself–the cousin of a friend of mine was among the first fatalities in Mexico City, and the family has been quarantined by the Ministry of Health.  There are people out there dying from it.  If as much attention were being paid to the treatment of the disease as to, say, semantincs and hokey “preventative measures,” the pandemic could be nearly over.

It’s like the entire world is waiting for The Stand to happen in real life.  (Which leads me to another riff: Considering that he’s pretty much the epitome of pop culture, Stephen King is really bad at inventing pop culture in his own novels.  In The Stand, for example, the popular name given to the strand of the superflu that wipes out humanity is “Captain Trips” — oh, no!  The Captain and Tenille are killing everyone! — and one of the main characters has a top 40 hit called “Baby, Can You Dig Your Man?”  Yes, the book was originally written in the 70s, but I have a hard time imagining that any of this was culturally relevant even then.)

Another friend announced that she was retiring to her bedroom with a bottle of wine and planned to watch all 8 hours of the miniseries in order to dodge the flu.  I don’t know if it’ll work as a preventative, but it will answer the question, “Whatever happened to Corin Nemec?”

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Bah. Humbug.

Friday, December 26th, 2008

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It’s the day after Christmas, and even though it’s the second most spectacular shopping day of the year, I’m at home because, once again, I’m sick.

You see, for me, the question “what did you get for Christmas” is the not-fun kind of double-entendre.  Usually I get some sort of bug: a cold, the flu. I recall that one year as a child there was some projectile vomiting involved.

So, I made it through the holidays fairly unscathed.  Ray took off to see his family on Monday.  On Wednesday, I went over to my parents house, where they spoiled the dog rotten.  We went up again on Christmas Day, where Mocha was fondled and fawned over.  Then we went to see Doubt (it was a choice between that and Milk, and I just don’t think I could deal with seeing Milk with my parents - it doesn’t matter how supportive they are, I just don’t want to be watching James Franco make out with Sean Penn while sitting next to my Mom).

Since Dad has his traditional post-holiday 18 holes of golf today, Mom wanted me to come back up for lunch today (and, as I discovered when I called to tell her I wasn’t going to make it, help her prune the bushes that got damaged in one of the recent hard freezes).  But I woke up feeling achy and stuffy and with a sore throat (the kind that gives you a sexy voice, even if there’s no one around to hear it).

Who can tell what the cause is?  It’s a bit early for the cedar to kick in (as I discovered when I moved here, I’m highly allergic to cedar pollen).  More than likely it has something to do with the temperature bobbing up and down: Monday it was 35, today it’s 80, god knows what it’ll be tomorrow.

So, no lunch date with Mom for me.  Today it’s been lots of Sprite and … well, I’ve managed to finish off the Firefly Blu-Ray that Ray gave me for Christmas, topped it off with Serenity this morning, and have moved on to Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.  In fact, I even popped in Terminator II because I couldn’t remember some of the backstory, but found myself getting bored and doing dishes and puttering around to try to clear out some of the clutter before Ray gets home tomorrow (not  necessarily because I want the house to be spic and span when he gets here–which would be nice–but because he usually brings home more clutter with him).

This evening I may even try a return to broadcast television, but … well, I’m just not that desperate.  Not yet, anyway.  Plus, I still have all those Christmas cookies I made :)

Hope your holiday–whichever one it is–was enjoyable and illness free!

The Horrible Patient

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008

It’s kind of ironic, I guess, that I wait until after the holiday and weeks after being around a bunch of ill people at work before I finally succumb to the head cold that’s been going around. The weather in Austin has been up and down lately — last night we hit a low near freezing — and given the stress I’ve been under, it’s not surprising that I got sick.

I’ve recognized for a while that I’m a bad sick person. In my case, the problem is that the moment I feel even slightly better I overexert myself and make my illness worse.

I never realized how much dedication goes in to the hypochondria and perpetual illness that some people seem to have. Would that I had the temperament to lay about demanding that others wait on me hand and foot. “Boy! Pit me an olive!”

So, I’m trying to be really good today, sitting on the sofa, keeping warm, drinking lots of liquids, and watching … OK, I’m not quite at the point where I can deal with mediocre daytime television. My head cold isn’t quite severe enough for me to deal with Elizabeth Hasselback. I don’t care how ill I feel, I’m not quite that ill.

But maybe I’m feeling ill enough for someone to bring me some soup? :wink:

They’ve got a virus for everything

Thursday, October 11th, 2007

Thanks to my sick sense of humor, you’ve now all seen what my toe looks like since we went to the lake this weekend, and I shall spare any of you still recovering from the first go round having to see it again (jeez, Will, who knew you were so squeamish?).

The other thing that’s popped up since the weekend is that I’ve been having dizzy spells. At first, I thought nothing of it, since the dock was floating, and I am the sort of person who doesn’t actually get motion sickness while we’re still moving — I’m the sort of person who feels it after the motion has stopped. I was one of only a handful of people on the Zanzibar-Dar es Salaam ferry who didn’t end up projectile vomiting repeatedly during the trip, but I did lay awake all night long in my hotel room — on land — feeling the boat go bouncy-bouncy-bouncy (for the record, I didn’t barf then, either. I have a remarkable … and sometimes unfortunate … tolerance for stomach discomfort).

So, this morning when I found myself gripping my desk in a desperate effort to make the room stop spinning, I phoned the doctor and was told that an appointment was available if I could come in right away. Since all I was doing was propping myself against various surfaces I readily agreed and drove off to the doctor’s office (for some reason, I’m OK while I’m driving – maybe because I have something to focus on?).

There’s an interesting subset of people in the doctor’s office just before lunch on a Thursday. Fortunately, I was ushered in from the waiting room quickly (and alarmingly – I started to wonder if this was an indication that by the appointment station was a note: “People calling with these symptoms must be seen immediately before death sets in.”) The friendly doctor–not my usual gal, whom I never see anymore–asked me a bunch of questions: did I swallow lake water? No. Did I suffer head trauma? No. Any other injuries? I showed him my toe, and he agreed that I was very lucky to not have broken it.

Out comes the little light and he looks in my ears (oh, god, did I remember to swab out my ears after I showered last night?) and in my eyes and then proceeds to tell me that I’ve contracted a virus. I don’t remember what it’s called, but apparently it’s a virus whose sole raîson d’etre is living in your inner ear and making you think the room is spinning. He offered me meds to calm any nausea, which I’m not feeling, but other than that I just get to ride it out for a couple of weeks until the virus burns itself out.

Jeez, they have viruses for everything now.

The good news is that I’m cleared to go to Mexico. We’re off in the morning for a three-day weekend in Monterrey, which is about 350 miles down the road. It wasn’t until yesterday that we started wondering why we’re not doing this as a four-day trip, since we’ll be in town for all of a day and a half, but it’s going to be a change from the norm, and I’m looking forward to my first “real” trip to Mexico anyway.

Have a good weekend, y’all!

 

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