Bears

Tonight was all about taking a break. Last week, when Tanya called to see what my plans were for the weekend, all I could think about was actually making it through a mountain of homework in order to get to the weekend. And then she told me that she had an extra ticket to the Bears game on Sunday. Now, I was happy to go to the Cubs game with her in the spring and I had a great time. But football???? That’s my sport. I was jumping up and down, shouting into my phone, and saying “yes” in as many ways as I could muster.

The game tonight was at Soldier Field. Yet another rite of passage for this transplanted Chicago resident. And I have to admit, I was glad it was in the high 40s instead of in the teens. I can handle the high 40s for a few hours.

We shouted, we cheered, we learned the Bears fight song. It was an awesome night. No, da Bearssssss did not win against the Eagles tonight, but they played a decent game. Who cares, anyway. I got to get away from my homework for several hours and enjoy being transported to a world that is the very essence of Chicago. Go Bears!

 

Beep Lady

This past week, I got to go to The Latin School in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood to participate in  a hearing screening. I spent about four hours pretending I was an audiologist, testing tiny ears to determine whether they could hear 25dB at various frequencies. It’s not a difficult test to administer and it doesn’t really take much time. The trick is to keep the kids engaged and to produce the “beep” at an irregular rate.

After about 10 kids, I realized I’d get a better response if I demonstrated the tones they’d hear before they put the headphones on their head. I think it had something to do with breaking the tension so I was no longer the scary lady behind the door. So I said something like,

“I’m going to have you put these headphones on. Have you ever worn headphones?”

Lots of nodding and eye rolling; of course they’ve worn headphones. They are at least 4 years old and they have a ton of life experience!

“OK, so when you have the headphones on, you’re going to hear different sounds. Some might be a high tone ‘beeeeeep’ and others might be low, like “b e e p.”

Giggling, smiling and more head nodding.

“Do you know what to do when you hear the beeps?”

With much enthusiasm, “I raise my hand!” If they were one of the older kids (6 or 7 years old), I generally got “I raise my hand on the side that I hear the beep.”

“OK, let’s get started.”

Most of the kids heard all of the beeps. I had one little girl who just sort of sat there while I presented the tones. She’d look at me and smile very sweetly. This was her second hearing screening of the day. It was my job was to rescreen any child who had a suspected loss. This little girl was definitely hearing the tones; she reacted in some way each time I presented something, but she wasn’t raising her hand.

“Do you hear anything?”

Vigorous head nodding.

“What are you supposed to do when you hear the beep?”

“Raise my hand.”

“That’s right! Let’s try it again.”

This time when I presented the first tone, she gasped and yelled, “I hear it!” We continued through 1000 and 2000 Hz. When I made the switch to 4000 Hz, I waited a bit before presenting the tone. This sweet little girl looked at me and whispered, “I don’t hear anything….” I whispered back, “That’s good! I didn’t do anything yet.” She nodded her head in agreement.

 

Acclimated

Before I headed out for my morning walk, I checked the weather so I’d know how many layers to wear. The Chicago Tribune reported 38 degrees at 9am so I grabbed my fleece, my gloves, a scarf, and my ear muffs. I wasn’t even half way across the beach before I had to start peeling off the warm stuff. I suppose it’s good that 40 degrees can feel so warm… winter approaches.

More signs of the approaching cold season –

• the leaves on North Shore are all on the ground instead of on the trees
• the posts for the snow fence have been set on the beach
• the beach tractor was out making mini dunes so the snow doesn’t blow up off the beach into the streets

 

What goes around…

When I was an over-achieving student in junior high and high school, I was used to getting A’s in my classes. On the rare occasion  that I didn’t do well on an exam (Biology), my parents had to talk me down from the ledge because I’d gotten a C. I would wail, “But I failed!!! I can’t believe I failed my test! Now I won’t get into college which means I won’t get a job which means I’ll be homeless and end up sleeping in a cardboard box!”

Well, it turns out that in grad school, a C on an exam really is failing. It makes sense — we’re all people who have done our best to get into a great program and we’re expected to learn the material. Usually, I do. But the past few weeks have been rough and tumble and I seem to have met my match.

On Wednesday night, I got my exam back from my Neuromotor Disorders in Adults class — 78.5%. On Thursday afternoon, I got my exam back from my Nuroanatomy class — 79%. In both cases, the returned exam came with the dreaded comment, “Please make an appointment to see the TA.” Ugh! This is it. This is the moment that I knew would always come… I’m going to end up homeless in the winter in Chicago because I got two C’s.

Of course, I know that won’t really happen. I also know what I don’t know in both classes — I was getting confused about upper motor neurons and lower motor neurons. You get it, right? In spite of applying my logic and the things I know (about what I don’t know), I had a break down at school yesterday. I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t want to work with my client, and I didn’t want to feel like a failure anymore.

After having a chance to cry out my frustration and have my good friends hold my hand, I marched into the clinic room and had a great session with my Friday client. It was a reminder that even if I get the direct and indirect activation pathways confused, I do know how to relate to people and help them gain the skills they need to communicate. It gave me the oomph I needed to keep going. And keep going I did….

I went out to celebrate a friend’s 28th birthday. We went to a BBQ joint called Smoque and ate amazing meat, the best mac & cheese I’ve had in a while, and washed it down with sweet tea. Then we drove across town to get gelato. Luckily, we had to park far away, which gave us a chance to walk off some of our dinner before we filled in the nooks and crannies with smooth gelato. It was a great way to top off one of the hardest weeks of school yet. Good friends, good food, and reminders that I’m not a failure. Not even close.

 

Spectacular

Gram and I had a great weekend together. Things didn’t always go according to our plan, but we made sure it was full of adventure, laughter, and high spirits. The highlights included:

• a drive up Sheridan Road, past all the well manicured mansions on the north shore. The trees were stunning, even on a rainy day (no pics, though)
• a view of downtown Chicago at night from the top of the Hancock building after waiting at least 30 minutes for a spot on the elevator. It was awesome.
• a bus ride through the Twilight Zone… there are some weirdos on public transportation (present company included, of course)
• the best cinnamon rolls and lasagna ever. Not in the same sitting.
• a lake and river boat trip on the first sunny day we’ve seen in a while. Perfection.

Tomorrow it is back to the land of homework and deadlines and client preparation. Until then, I will dream of happy memories of adventures with my amazing Grandma.

 

Second Year

School started two weeks ago and already I’ve lost track of time. My friends and I are living, breathing examples of all the disorders we’re studying. Our speech is full of disfluencies (stuttering and cluttering), metathesis (“chicken” instead of “kitchen”), and language errors (using the wrong pronoun, verb, or tense). Yes, school has started and our brains are so full of new information that we’re incoherent with each other. At least we have the patience to let it go.

The cool thing is that I’m now a “second year.” I don’t feel like I know as much as the “second years” who roamed the halls of Frances Searle last year, but I do seem to have answers when the new students approach to ask me a question. I’m glad to be able to share the little tips and tricks I’ve picked up in my year at Northwestern. Now if I could just focus on my own courses and clients, I’d be set.

The course schedule for this quarter:

• Neuroanatomy
• Neuro Motor Disorders in Adults
• Fluency

The client schedule:

• Memory group
• Adult language and pragmatic skills
• School age articulation /ɹ/ and phonological awareness
• School screenings

I better get back to my homework. Gram is coming to visit and I want to have as much free time as possible!

 

Scenic Route

Cousins Fantastico

I count myself lucky that I am one of those people who notices and appreciates the little things. I spent the weekend with family in WI and appreciated so much, from the pencil aisle in the store for teachers to the morning walks with the dogs (in search of wild turkeys!) to the ease of relaxing with good people while watching a football game.

When I got ready to leave on Tuesday morning, I asked my aunt for a recommendation about an alternate route to Chicago that might take me along country roads. We looked at the map together and found that if I took W to 67 and followed the signs… It all made sense on paper, but somewhere along the way I got distracted.

I was enjoying the contrast of the yellowing soy bean vines against the blue sky. I was taken with the billowing stalks in the fields of corn. And the trees are just starting to turn, so every now and then, I’d see a canopy of brilliant orange leaves amid all the green. I was singing at the top of my lungs, breathing in the fresh air, and enjoying the sun. Except all of a sudden, the sun was on the wrong side of the car and I was definitely heading west  instead of south. Hmm…

Luckily, I am blessed with logic and a decent sense of direction. Also, the county roads in WI are mostly a grid, with a few bends here and there. I oriented myself with a map, turned myself around, and made my way southeast. The trip home took about 2 hours longer than expected, but the journey was great. And I saw so many wonderful things along the way.

Here are just a few of the treasures from the weekend:

• an excellent and enticing shoe collection
• sailing on Green Bay (I’m distractable as a sailor, too)
• a big pile of dirt
• not-so-wild giraffes
• smart chipmunks
• laughter around the dinner table
• a toad as big as my palm
• watching the international space station streak through the sky
• sleeping in late
• birds as big as a deer
• reflections in the pond

 

Home

I’ve just returned from a trip home to the Bay Area. It was a jam-packed 10 days, full of adventure, laughter, and reunions with people I love. I got to see kids and adults, museum exhibits, big trees, fog, and a sweltering sun in a blue, blue sky. The time at home filled me up and helped me prepare for my second year of graduate school.

Last night when I got in to Chicago, though, I also felt the relief of coming home. The sound of the lake lapping at the shore, the tall buildings downtown, the clang of the El trains. It all feels like home. So, if home is where the heart is, does that mean my heart is two-timing me?

Taking all the people I love out of the equation, there are things in both locations that attract me. Chicago has seduced me with its wide, sandy beaches and the long stretches of bike paths along the lake. The architecture that defines the downtown skyline and identifies each neighborhood keeps me interested in learning more. I have found a comfortable peace here in this home. I am happy. Yet, when I landed in California and saw the hills hugging Berkeley and Oakland, the fog creeping in over the bay, and when I smelled the sage on my hike in Marin, my heart swelled. This is home to my soul.

So for all you who worry that Chicago’s seduction will keep me here, put that worry aside. I may stay longer than you think is necessary, but I will always come back to California. It is the home that makes my heart sing.

You can see the entire collection of photos from my trip on Flickr.

 

Dirt

Now that I’m an urbanite, I don’t have much opportunity to play in the dirt. So when I need a fix, I head to the Garfield Park Conservatory. I’ve been before and shared my images… it is a magical place that offers new treasures each time I visit. Today was no exception.

We had  a light rain this morning, so the outdoor gardens were especially fresh. I was taken with the giant nodding heads of the sunflowers and the lushness of the bean stalks. It was the lily pads, though, that took my breath away. I was mesmerized by the array of colors in the pond — greens, reds, and yellows. The lotus flowers were blooming in shades of white, pink, and purple. And then there were the different sizes of lily pads. The contest for my favorite came down to the enormous, lipped pads dotting the east side of the pond and the miniature pads that freckled the edges. I suppose I’ve always been drawn to the extremes.

The vegetable garden was another bright spot in my morning. I tickled the tomato plants (even though there were plenty of bees taking care of pollination), marveled at the striped eggplant, and admired the twisting limbs of the beans. It makes me happy to think that the Conservatory will donate its bounty to the neighborhood when it is time to harvest. Community gardens, big and small, are a wonderful thing.

 

Gertrude

Remember the story of the enormous spider, Helga,  living outside my window last summer? As I was driving home from Evanston this evening, I looked over to my right because something on the passenger side of my car caught my eye. There, trying to hold on against the wind, was Helga’s cousin Gertrude. She was flapping in the breeze as I drove down the street and whenever I hit a stop light, she started repairing the damage I’d done to her web.

Knowing that I had no chance of capturing her and setting her free, I just rolled up the window and appreciated her tenacity from my position behind the safety glass.