About Me

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I am a retired English teacher and department head, the mother of three grand mother of four, and have been married to the same man for 53 years, two years after we met at college. I taught in both middle and high schools as I really love teens and in-betweens. I was also a certified Lamaze instructor, and for a short time a volunteer chaplain at Howard County General Hospital. I am a two-time cancer survivor, ovarian (2003), and breast (2019) I was born in South Philadelphia and grew up in the 'burbs with great parents, in a bilingual household. I love soft pretzels and cheesesteaks, the Phillies, the Eagles, the Orioles, and sometimes the Ravens. I love being Mom, Aunt Kathy, Nona Kathy (Kath), and Teacher. I spend a lot of time in my gardens in the spring and summer, and in the winter I plan what I'm going to plant. I also am an avid reader, cook, photographer, lover of languages, music, and four-footed furries.

Translator!

Saturday, April 4, 2020

Seemed Funny At the Time...

After breast cancer surgery last May, I began radiation treatments.  As scared as I was, this turned out to be a rather benign (forgive the pun) experience.

Each day I reported to the oncology/radiation center, changed my clothes, and sat in the women's waiting area.  Sometimes there would be other women waiting with me, and other times I sat alone.  On no day did I wait longer than five minutes (they ran a really tight ship) before I was greeted by a tech and asked to 'come back' to the treatment room.  First, however, in an anteroom, and with my picture up on a rather large computer screen I was told to identify myself and state my date of birth.  Every single day by the same people who saw me every single day.  Same protocol.

While all were impressively courteous and competent, some were kinder than others.  There was one tech, who while totally professional, was not as openly responsive as the others.  

Two weeks into treatments and called back once again by this same person to respond to name and date of birth, I said, "Dresilda Flackenbush".  No smile; just, "No, you are not."

The next day she called me back, asked me my name and date of birth.  This time I replied, "Bernadetta Mangiacavalle." (translated from Italian: Bernadette the horse eater).  No laugh; no smile; and then it hit me:  I was provoking her and she could kill me.

2 comments:

Sally Wessely said...

Oh you. This is a great story. Don’t you wonder what goes on in the minds of such unresponsive people?

Linda Reeder said...

Well, I would have laughed!