Uploads from 2812 photography, tagged eastbay

Flew the Palm Coop

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 11:19:35 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thirsday Walk #373

Heavy Wooden Storage + Meter

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 11:19:17 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thirsday Walk #373

Sub Mission

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 11:19:24 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thirsday Walk #373

Sick I

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 10:13:54 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Part I:
I woke up Thursday morning with a thick mucus burning in the back of my throat. The slow motion distortion of everything in sight confirmed what the burning first hinted at. Sick again.

Get up. Get dressed. Walk the dogs. Swallow. Pins and needles. Wake the kids and get them ready for school. Do this all in slow motion, on autopilot, making sure the essential points are covered, overlooking the trivialities. Swallow. Pins and needles. Careful driving the car, you’re not 100%. Go back. Clean the house. Get it ready for the return of the out-of-town-on-business wife. Swallow. Pins and needles. Get back in the car. Get out on the highway towards the airport. Maintain a good cruising speed. Don’t get in anyone’s way and don’t try anything too ballsy. Float along the flow of traffic with monotone-treble-morning news and the drone of 60 mile-an-hour tires. Swallow. Pins and needles. Park the car. Shamble to the terminal (a surprisingly apt word for how you feel). Wait. Get up. Give her a welcome-home hug. Ask how the flight was. Answer the how-are-you question with a low, blunt I-feel-like-shit statement. Swallow. Pins and needles. Explain why as briefly as you can. Back to the car. Head home trying to pay attention to any conversation as best as you can, but not so much as to distract. Get home (safely, thankfully). Give in to the ever-increasing gravity at the instant the wife suggests to take-it-easy. Swallow. Pins and needles. Crawl into bed and sleep.

Wake up in the early evening, pins and needles and a strange increase in my ability to see the upper portion my cheeks without trying. Go to the mirror. Have a look. The word “pummeled” echoes from some corner in my frontal lobe followed by “red, swollen, puffy, cracked, hot,” and finally “newly carved wrinkle canyons.” Touch it. It throbs with pressure. The kids and wife are home. They look worried, but not overly concerned. Zombie walk the dogs around the block. Come home. Sit down. Try to eat. Fail. Take over-the-counter pain pills. Pins and needles. Go back to bed and suffer. Fall asleep. Wake up late at night. Last walk with the dogs. More over-the-counter pain pills. More sleep. Can’t sleep. Pills not working. Memory of leftover 500mg Hydrocodone tablets from wife’s deviated septum surgery last year. Desperate times, desperate measures. Take, wait, mild buoyant relief, and finally sleep again.

Wake up. Pins and needles and an increased cheek-eclipsing view. “Gotta see a doctor” wafts its way off my lips before any other conscious action. Squeeze hands into a loose fist and notice a dry cracking sting. Tiny little hives where it was once nice and smooth. Affirmation of a doctor’s visit. Grudgingly go through the morning motions. doctor’s office opens at 9. Don’t have an appointment. Risk of paying more for emergency room deductible vs. copay is higher than not being seem immediately. Sit and wait. Pins and needles. The clock is taking forever. Finally get to the doctor’s office. “You’re in luck. He was completely booked for today, but he’s just had a cancelation. If you wait 15 minutes, he can see you.” Thank you. I’ll wait.

Sick III

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 10:13:41 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Part III:
Stumble out the door, over to the pharmacy. Grab a bottle of acetaminophen and a cool bottle of whatever-orange-flavored-drink-that-replenishes-electrolites. Wait in line. Watch the pharmacist deal with yet another customer who isn’t quite so sure how all this labyrinthian-pharmaceutical-insurance-coverage-plan thing works. Pins and needles in the throat and in the air in the form of some early 1980’s “Top Ten” hit that most people don’t want to remember. Finally get to the counter. Hand the prescription to the attendant. Can I buy these here too? Slide the pain pills and drink across the counter. “Sure. Do you want to wait here or pick up later?” How long will it take? “About 45 minutes.” I’ll pick it up later. “We’ll text you when its ready.” Thank you. Pay for the meds and drink and leave. Pop open the bottle of acetaminophen, crack the lid of orange-flavored liquid replenishment, and knock back two pills. Pins and needles. Go home. Wait. One hour gone and no text. Wait some more. The doctor was right about the acetaminophen. Try to have lunch with moderate success. Fatigue is still there though (and growing). Another hour passes, no text. Call the pharmacy. Ask about the penicillin. “It’ll be ready by 12:45.” 45 minutes my ass. Look at “things to do” list. Put everything on hold for at least the next two days (thankfully it’s a Friday). Grab a book and read. Reading makes the fatigue grow stronger. 12:45, head back to the pharmacy. Still more 80’s “hits.” Get the penicillin, head home, pop a pill, and give in to the fatigue.

Wake up mid evening. Pins and needles are back. Face is still puffy. Go to the mirror in the bathroom. Add the word “reptilian” to the list of pugilist associative adjectives. Skin surface is now dry and cracked in addition to swollen and red. Give my left cheek a tiny pinch. Yellow pus oozes. Pinch a little harder. More yellow pus. Succumb to secret urge/pleasure of ridding the body of all bacteria laden liquid secretions. Messy. Wash the face thoroughly and promise not to do that anymore. More acetaminophen. Wait for the desired effect. Have some dinner. Soup. Homemade soup. Things are looking better. Wife and kids express their concerns. Reassurance of eventual full recovery is provided. Walk the dogs. The cool night fog breeze feels good on the face. This is heartening. Things will get better soon. Fatigue sets in again. Get home. Take another penicillin. Give in to the fatigue.

The next two days went like this: Wake up. Medicate. Do what’s feasible (i.e. walk the dogs and stay away from family to help ensure the hope on non-transmission). Eat. Read. Sleep. Repeat. Summarizing one’s day into something only slightly more complicated than the instructions found on a shampoo bottle is not nearly as joyless as it seems once strength starts to rear its head again and the pins and needles disapate.. After two days the penicillin rendered the use of acetaminophen useless. My swollen oozy face slowly started returning to normal, although still a bit saurian dry in appearance. I did milk at least one more afternoon of rest because the book I was reading was hard to put down. Although things went back to the same-old-same-old, I wouldn’t trade another day of same-old-same-old for the pulsing drab weight of aching burning ugly that is being sick.

Sick II

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 10:13:49 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Part II:
“Mr Rosos?” Yes. “Come right this way.” Ok. “Is it ok if a student doctor sees you first?” Fine. “Wait right here and he’ll be in to see you soon.” Ok. Pins, needles, and hanging on the wall a 3d diagram of the average human gastrointestinal system including detailed cross-sectioned illustrations of various associated maladies. Who doesn’t like to say or hear the word “duodenum?”

Knock, knock. “Hello Mr. Rosos. What did you come in for this morning?” Burning throat, puffy facial rash, hive-covered crackly hands, mild delirium but no fever. I think it’s strep, but the face and the hands have me worried. “When did this start?” Terse timeline explanation. Student doctor probes ears, eyes, and throat with ubiquitous “say aahh” pine-tasty tongue depressor. “Have you been taking anything for this?” Ibuprofen, but it’s not really working. “Are you on any other prescription medication?” Levoxyl for hashimoto thyroiditis, 125 micrograms. “Smoke?” Yes. “Drink?” Occasionally. “Recreational Drugs?” No. The pins and needles outweigh any sarcastic temptations. “Any allergies to any medicines?” No. The student doctor probes a little more, scribbles notes in between, and re-asks questions just to make sure. “Thank you Mr. Rosos. I’ll let the doctor know and send him in.” Thank you. The Student doctor leaves. “Jejunum” is also a fun word to say and hear.

The door opens quickly and the Not-the-Student doctor pounces into the room. “Hi there, I just wanted to take a quick look at something. Show me your hands.” He scrutinizes my hands with the intensity of a stingy jewelry appraiser. He looks up squinting at my cheeks. “And when did you say your cheeks started getting puffy?” Just last night. “Do you feel any pressure there?” Yes. “Ok, I’ll be back in a second.” He leaves the room. He comes back, cotton swab on a very long stick in hand. “So, I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but I’m going to have to swab the back of your throat for roughly 5 seconds to see if you’ve got strep. This is going to be uncomfortable. Do you think you can handle it?” Yes. “Open up and say ‘aahh.’” Mouth open, swab lances into the back of the throat. There’s a sudden overwhelming feeling that I now know what it must feel like to be an animal with a limb caught in a hunter’s trap. “1 …, 2 …, 3 …, 4 …, 5 …” The doctor retracts the swab. There’s a sense that I’ve handled things much better this time than I used to when I was a kid, but I’m glad nonetheless that the doctor is the only one to witness what’s just taken place. “Ok, I’ve got to go run the culture, and when I get back I’ll let you know the results.” Fine. Another 15 minutes of gastrointestinal pronunciation fascination. Sigmoid Flexure.

“Ok, the culture came back positive for strep, which explains the sore throat. The cheeks and hands on the other hand are a bit confusing. The symptoms are not dissimilar to scarlet fever, but adults don’t usually get scarlet fever, which narrows it down to two other possibilities. Either, you’ve got a double whopper of strep throat and hand, foot, and mouth (a.k.a. Coxsackie virus), or because of your autoimmune issues, your immune system is overreacting to the strep. Either way, I’m giving you a prescription of 500mg penicillin. You should be feeling much better in a day or so. If not, give me a call back. By the way, ibuprofen doesn’t work too well for strep. Try acetaminophen. That should help with the pain.” Thank you doctor. How reassuring.

No Smoking 2

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 10:59:07 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thrusday Walk #372

Walkway

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 10:59:15 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thrusday Walk #372

Walk This Way

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 10:59:21 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thrusday Walk #372

bread (this ain't no Wonder)

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Sat, 01 Jun 2013 16:11:32 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thrusday Walk #371

Spent my Thursday walking around looking for a donation sandwich.

The Gardeners & Cooks of Berkeley's Public Schools

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 29 May 2013 11:17:55 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Most folks outside the boundaries of the City of Berkeley, Ca probably have no clue that over the last two years leading up to today, the Berkeley Unified School District’s Gardening & Cooking Program have been teetering on the edge of austerity’s executioners axe. Most people may not have even know (or cared) that there was such a program in the public school system here. It might ring a few bells if I mention the name of Alice Waters and the efforts she made roughly fifteen years ago to kickstart the above mentioned program.

The Program has been around for awhile and isn’t just some glorified version of that old Home Economics class you might have taken way back when. Among some of the Programs accomplishments is the incorporation of biology, chemistry, mathematics, and culture.

Until just recently the program was set to loose all funding (mainly Federal and State). Thankfully the City stepped into to fill the budgetary void, but in doing so halved the amount of funds the Program received from Federal and State coffers. While the political details of figuring out the funds was going on, I gathered together as much of the staff that was willing to participate for a portrait project. The idea was to try and put faces to the numbers that were being discussed, not as a plea for pity, but more so to highlight the very real implications of that old maxim “You don’t what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
Who you see above are just a few of the people. Here’s the link to the full project www.berkeleyside.com/2013/05/29/portraits-berkeley-school...

The Gardeners & Cooks of Berkeley's Public Schools

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 29 May 2013 11:17:33 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

The Gardeners & Cooks of Berkeley's Public Schools

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 29 May 2013 11:17:44 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

The Gardeners & Cooks of Berkeley's Public Schools

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 29 May 2013 11:17:38 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

The Gardeners & Cooks of Berkeley's Public Schools

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 29 May 2013 11:17:27 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

The Gardeners & Cooks of Berkeley's Public Schools

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Wed, 29 May 2013 11:17:49 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Infinite Jest

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Fri, 24 May 2013 17:10:46 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Iron Photographer #175

1 - a summer drink (Iced Tea)
2 - a summer read (It'll take all Summer to read through this puppy. Don't ask me how long it'll take before I get it)
3 - photographed in a summer place (Tennis court, also a complement to part of the storyline)

4 - additional element (Spilled bottle of Levothyroxine for my underperforming thyroid. It's a bit odd given the theme, but not so if you've read the book which has all sorts of pharmaceutical references)

ham (this ain't no Oscar Meyer)

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Sat, 01 Jun 2013 16:11:24 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thrusday Walk #371

Spent my Thursday walking around looking for a donation sandwich.

cheese (this ain't no Velveeta)

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Sat, 01 Jun 2013 16:10:56 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thrusday Walk #371

Spent my Thursday walking around looking for a donation sandwich.

Swampy: Little Happy Family

nobody@flickr.com (2812 photography) — Thu, 23 May 2013 21:36:27 -0700

2812 photography posted a photo:

Utata Thursday Walk #370