New York

Mischief Managed

London, New York, Travel

I can’t positively say whether I dislike all big city airports; but I can positively say that I absolutely loathe both JFK (New York City) and Heathrow (London).

We accrue a lot of JetBlue points, and that’s where they from and to, so it is what it is. As you’ve probably gathered, I’m planning my first post-recovery trip to London for January. I’ll still be recovering, but I’ll certainly be well enough to take a familiar trip — I know London backwards and forwards.

I signed-up for TSA PreCheck — No more absurd security lines. No more taking off your belt, shoes, and jacket. No more carry-on screening. Leave your iPad, laptop, and that quart-sized bag of liquids and gels in your tote. This solves a lot of my problems with JFK.

For Heathrow, I did my usual — adding a day at the end of the trip and checking into a hotel directly inside the airport the day before my flight home. No need to get up early, worry over time, stress, or get on a plane exhausted. Just walk out of the hotel door and I’m already there.

I’ll still have to get off the train from the airport at Liverpool Street Station, which is way down deep in the center of the earth near where the devil lives. 36 meters/120 feet, or about 12 stories underground. Platforms and hallways are incredibly long, and then you meet the most extreme escalator you’ve ever seen in your life.

Yes, that’s really the actual escalator I’m talking about.

O

I like to be in a neighborhood, so I’m staying at a hotel in a buzzy pedestrianized area with an incredible location — Bankside, right on the River Thames, leaning against an ancient pub, across-ish from Shakespeare’s Globe.

The hotel entrance is at the end of the red-doors building, right across from Wagamama. On the left, that’s the terrace on the river. The Globe is right behind you.

O

I’ll be doing my usual history thing. There are a few medieval churches on the list, the Docklands Museum, the effigies at Westminster Abbey, the renovation of the National Portrait Gallery, a few locations from Bleak House that I’d like to see in person.

I have a contact that could get me in to play a historic pipe organ, but I haven’t decided yet. I’ll likely play the little pipe organ in the train station for sure. The Globe is doing Cymbeline while I’m there. Sadly, not a play I really want to see. I might go see the revival of Oliver though.

Shakespeare’s Globe

O

Welp, I’ll finally be able to spend that £2 coin I brought back last year.

A Doctor, a Nurse, and a Hospital Admin Walk Into a Bar …

Health, New York, Personal

Yeah, it’s a rant.

This is the second time, third really, that I’ve had a major procedure. After each surgery, I don’t ruminate on the privilege of working with surgeons at the top of the field. I don’t recall the awesome nurses that took such good care of me. I don’t think about the kind porters, who cheerfully do the shittiest job in the hospital.

All of that is completely overshadowed by the paperwork.

I remember the minefield of forms, faxes, and printed information that contradicts itself. I remember I go through this every time. I remember that I got a ton of forms, many of which I don’t understand. (And this is while I’m pained, permanently nauseated, and throwing up (among other things) several times a day.

I remember that even though all my doctors are affiliated with the same hospital, the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing. I remember the surgeon assistant’s extremely irritated tone of voice and sudden coldness when I called a second time because I still didn’t understand something.

I thought we were friendly with each other. I didn’t bother to remind her that I’m on the spectrum (which is on my chart), easily overwhelmed, sometimes don’t understand things as other people do, and am on major painkillers.

I should not need seven (or more) piles of forms to deal with that all go to different places, some faxed, some emailed, one thing has to be done before one date and then another thing has to be done after another date, etc. A few of them go to people that I don’t even know who they are or what they do. And of course, I’m filling in all these forms with exactly the same information they have right in front of them on my charts & the portal.

O

What would I do if were not a reasonably intelligent, tenacious person who will go through every single detail (several times) making sure everything’s done and checked off and understood? (I can be downright pugnacious and aggressive when I’m not getting answers.) I can’t imagine the trouble an elderly widow who’s by herself, or someone who speaks a foreign language would have.

I also don’t much care for the (always) bold, UNNECESSARY CAPITALIZED, yellow highlighted passive-aggressive language repeatedly telling me I need to do this or that or they’ll cancel my surgery. As for the actual documents, they are poorly put together … and ugly. One looks like it was literally cut and paste. Like, with scissors and tape. You’d think someone would be embarrassed that these are coming out of a major teaching hospital.

O

And we are still using hand-writing to fill in these scans of hard-used copy machine copies, with me faxing them or running all over the place dropping them off. Welcome to 1986.

And then, I get a very politely worded email saying that we may need to pay a deposit for my surgery. Never had that happen before. We have to call some lady who I guess decides whether we’re risky or not. Or something? What is she going to do? Question our insurance? Run a credit check? Swab for my DNA?

Our country’s doctors and our up-to-the-minute facilities are the best in the world. Envied by most of the planet. But behind the masks and professional photos, I can assure you, it’s a dumpster fire.

The Old Curiosity Shop

Arts and Crafts, Fiascos, Home and Renovation, New York

It’s been one day, and I am already, “Are they out of my house yet?,”

Tomorrow is what I call “Mezzo Buildio” — taping, spackling, finishing up some drywall issues, wiring the lamps.

As you know, I kind of exist in a “I never really feel well” state, so I have been managing myself pretty well. =) Haven’t tried to help, haven’t carried anything, continuing to rest up and recover from the few days of prep. Needless to say, the dogs are a challenge where construction is concerned.

There’s an organ in the kitchen. A LazyBoy by the pantry. A bedroom’s worth of furniture scattered all over the house. Our living room looks as if Little Nell might crawl out from underneath the piano at any particular point.

The Living Room

O

Have a great day!

When it Snows, it Pours

Health, Home and Renovation, New York

I didn’t feel great on Sunday, but I thought, “Eh, just a day not quite as good as most.” Turns out that wasn’t the case.

Sparing you the (honestly) gory details, it’s been bed/bathroom about every 30 minutes for about 24 hours. Finally thinking to take my temp today, it was 101.1F. Which rose to 102.5F. It’s going back down bit by bit now.

We had a snowstorm overnight. Easily a foot so far. Bless Jonathan for doing all the snow chores!

I was supposed to have an outpatient procedure today. That’s a big nope for several reasons. Very lucky that it got rescheduled in the time frame we needed, on my day off.

Nighty-night!

The Warm, Cozy Feel of Stainless Steel

Home and Renovation, New York

We’ve made a commitment to fully restart renovations.

The two-year pause did us some good. “Charming and vintage” has always been important, but we’ve now added “and incredibly, absurdly comfortable.”

A big change will be hiring out a good amount of the work. Previously, I was doing everything myself. For friends that are not familiar, our house is a two-story downtown cottage built in the 1840s, with additions/bump-outs from the 1880s and the 1940s.

The day we moved in vs. one year later. I tore the front of the house off, replaced the windows, made functional period shutters, and reinstated the covered porch. No prefab or plastic — every post, beam, and stick of wood was cut by hand. =)

Jonathan had our contractor (who is also a friend and neighbor) in for a few small things while I was in London — a faucet here, a socket there. I’m inordinately excited about the plugs, because we’re replacing the old ones with sockets that have high-speed USB charging and smart-home-whatever.

The kitchen work begins this week. I’m eliminating this useless window so the refrigerator can be moved there. Then the pantry will be built where the refrigerator was.

The kitchen will be a big job — everything is being yanked out. We’re even tearing down the plaster ceiling to reveal the 1840s beams, and we’ll gain over a foot in height.

A few years ago I noticed an obvious trend toward countertop appliances — air fryers, stand-alone induction cooktops, convection ovens that can handle a large pizza or an average-sized turkey. Especially in apartments, I started to see entire kitchens outfitted with these types of things rather than full-sized appliances.

No gigantic range and nothing permanently fixed in place? Sign me up. I have a countertop induction unit and a French door convection oven in my shopping cart right now. The amount of times we’ve needed more than three burners or had to roast a 20-something pound turkey? Exactly never.

I don’t like cabinets, and we wanted the whole kitchen to be easy to clean. I landed on stainless steel restaurant fixtures. Easily cleaned and they can be moved! Perfect!

Off we go! Below are two views from my design.

Have a great sleep!