Restaurants

Last night we went to Landmarc at the TimeWarner Center. There was a row of strollers outside the door, a great sign of its kid-friendly approach. There's plenty of room around the tables so you can pull up a stroller next to the table and not feel like the pasta from the next table is going to fall onto your kids head. The music was a bit loud and it could use a little more light (shit, I sound like an old man), but overall it was a nice experience.

Coincidentally, I came across this article on Slate. http://www.slate.com/id/2191912

There are other practices at restaurants that I do not care for. Top of the list is when the bus boy starts clearing your plate before everyone else is done with their meal. Why do they do that? Is it to hint to the other person(s) that they are taking too long with their meal? Do they think they are doing me a favor by giving me more elbow room? How would you feel if you were invited to someone's house and they take their plate into the kitchen while you still have food in your plate? It's rude and serves no purpose other than making you eat faster.

Whatever the reason, I don't like it and from now on I will tell the bus boy that I want to hold on to my plate until everyone else at the table is done eating. Let's get back to a more civilized dining experience.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

I had to take a couple of days off. I decided against continuing with the description of my surgery. It's all in the past and quite anti-climactic. Synopsis: I woke up, waited a long time, went home. I have a couple of pictures which I'll scan and post later.

I am recovering nicely. I shed the crutches today and started putting weight on the right knee/leg. I even went for a walk with the family to Ciao Bella on 92nd. That's half a mile back and forth but on the way back the knee was getting tired. It was downhill to boot and I had G in a stroller.

My PT is Wednesday and I see Dr. Gladstone on Thursday. I am going to do everything I can to have a speedy recovery. I won't push too hard that I hurt myself, but I'm 42 and every day out of the lineup counts against me.

The procedure

I'm in the elevator with Dr. Resident. "Busy day?", I say. "Everyday is a busy day", he says with a smile. Quick trip, the doors open and we walk out onto the 3rd floor. We go through the doors and there's the pre/post-op area. There's a gurney right there next to the nurses' station. Your table, sir.

I hop on and Dr. Resident confirms all the information. You might think it would be annoying, but I'm actually glad that everyone is confirming the procedure and the side. Right knee arthroscopy. No I have not had anything to eat or drink. No medications. The gurney is enclosed by curtains and I'm asked to take off the top gown. He exposes my knee and marks it and puts his initials on there. Nice. I tell him to call MLW as soon as I'm out. That she's a physician and will get worried if too much time passes and nobody has called. He says Gladstone will call.

Then the anesthesiologist slips into our cocoon and he's also a resident. Any crowns, caps? No. Then the nurse shows up and introduces himself. It's getting a little crowded around my bed and I feel like a presidential candidate being mobbed by reporters. What's your economic policy regarding NAFTA? Are you allergic to anything? How would you address the sub-prime problem? Any prior surgeries?

Then Gladstone walks in, takes a look at the knee and orders the nurse to shave it. I ask him to call MLW as soon as I'm out of surgery to let her know. He writes the numbers on the leg of his scrubs. I remind him that she's a physician and will get worried. He gives me a non-committal ok and leaves the cocoon. By this time, the nurse is already half done shaving my knee. It looks naked.

Resident 1 leaves with him and resident 2's boss shows up and asks the same set of questions. He then leaves, so I'm there resident 2 and his job is to start the IV. He puts the tourniquet on my arm and pokes my arm. He misses, but plays it cool. He even tries to hook up the IV and then try to move the needle back and forth. Luckily for me, he decides to abort and go for the back of the hand. I got better veins there anyway.

Resident 1 shows up and says that he's going to wheel me into the OR. If he ever decides to give up this orthopedic surgery gig, he'll be a great cab driver. This guy was whizzing through the hallways and making left and right turns with the gurney as if he was riding a scooter. He almost took out a doctor who was standing a little too far outside a doorway. All the while the anesthesiologist is running behind us with his bag o' goodies.

We went quite far. I think it was all the way to 5th Ave, the very last room down the long hallway. Once we got there he collected my IV stuff and we walked in. Of course the room was not ready so resident 1 volunteered to help. They locked the table and had me lay down on it. Resident 2 went to work on setting up his magic and resident 1 started drawing on my knee and explaining what he was doing to a medical student to whom I was not introduced. They put the oxygen mask on my face and resident 2 told me to take deep breaths.

They exposed my leg and removed the non-skid hospital sock from my right (and correct) foot. I asked resident 1 how long the procedure would last and was told 20-30 minutes. He then grabbed a BIG-ASS needle from the table. My eyes must have given me away because the medical student motioned to resident 1. He looked at me and from under the oxygen mask I said "That's a big-ass needle." "Oops. I should really hide this from patients, but we don't use it until you're totally under."

I then felt cold and wet on the back of my hand where the IV was. I asked resident 2 if I was supposed to feel cold where the IV was and he said, "Yes. That's the medication."

That's the last thing I remember from the OR.

The Waiting - Part I

I'm in this exam room with a couple of plastic bags for my belongings. I'm told to take off all my clothes and put on 2 gowns. The first tied in the back and the second in the front. The nurse will be in shortly.

So I decide to call MLW at home to tell her that I'm in the back. So I pulled out my slick Blackberry to call (and maybe I'll twitter, too) and saw that I had no signal. Those bastards!!!! So I left the room and went all the way out to admissions to call. I told her that I'm going in the back. I'm pretty certain I told her to stay put at home until the doctor calls and says I'm out of surgery. Now it can be argued that I still have chemicals flowing in my system and, yes I did take a Percocet at 1:30pm, but I believe that my recommendation was for MLW and the kids to stay home, maybe nap, go to the park, something and NOT come to the hospital and wait around for hours.

So I go back to the exam room and put on the gowns. By now it's 9:15 am and all my belongings are in 2 bags, I'm reclined on a pretty comfortable armchair, reading my magazine. By 9:30, I have stooped so low as to read about how Gossip Girl is the best teen drama on TV, ever! I am feeling pretty bored and restless. Where is that nurse? So I open the door and step out in the hallway. I find the first person with a badge and tell her that I've been waiting for over 45 minutes for the nurse. I get some polite, yet lame excuse about the nurse making her rounds. I go back into the room and leave the door open. There is foot traffic in the hallway, mostly to and from the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Another 15 minutes pass. I've given up on the Gossip Girl article and am reading the Patient's Bill of Rights. I'm looking for the loophole that entitles me to bitch to the CEO of Mt Sinai about my intolerable wait. No luck. I'm entitled to a bunch of things that at this point I don't care about.

Then the nurse comes in. Tries to pronounce my name, butchers it, takes my blood pressure, and verifies the procedure. She asks when I had my last meal, blah, blah-blah, blah-blah-blah. At this point I am so craving a cup of coffee that I just want them to cut me up, send me home, so I can have some caffeine. As she's finishing the resident (Dr. somebody who works with Dr. Gladstone) walks in to take me upstairs.

Here we go. It's gonna happen now.

Admissions

I walked through the doors of the Mount Sinai Guggenheim Medical Pavilion a little after 8:30. The security people were acting more like WalMart greeters and directed me to the 2nd floor. Surgical admissions was buzzing with activity. The Maître D' took my name and gave me a beeper, ala Chili's, and told me to come back when it started buzzing. Just then I realized that I forgot to pickup AM New York for the Sudoku and crossword.

So I scrounged around the area and found a New York magazine from a month ago. There were a couple of articles I hadn't read and it would keep me occupied. The thing that was starting to worry me was the multitude of hardcover books on the tables. I'm talking 2.5-3" thick. How long would the wait actually be? I wouldn't consider starting one of those books unless I knew I was going to be waiting for, I don't know, .... a week?

Luckily, my buzzer went off before I could think more about the reason for having all these books. I was then escorted to a cubicle where they took down my insurance information and verified that I was actually the person who was scheduled to have a procedure. Then the person took me to the waiting area.

Significant event's Eve

Tomorrow is the day that I go in for my arthroscopic knee surgery. The procedure, as I like to call it, will take place at Mt Sinai, 3 blocks away. I feel pretty calm about the whole thing, which I think is troubling some people. Should I be more worried? I really don't see why and it may be because of ignorance about being put under and having surgery. Ignorance may be bliss.

One aspect of this whole thing that is really bugging me is the fact that every entity involved in this procedure is only looking out to get paid. They don't give a damn whether I'm going in for brain surgery or wart removal. Last week the orthopedics department called and asked for a "deposit". I'm not renting a fucking clown for a birthday party. What am I going to do cancel because of rain? I know, I know. Bad analogy. But it's still pissing me off.

They all want to make sure that they get paid and make their quota. Being in sales, I know what that means. I am really frustrated about the fact that medicine is not about healing but about business. It's the business of medicine and I'm sure that more than a couple of deadbeats have walked through the doors of Mt Sinai. Still, it doesn't make it right. They required a pre-op physical with labs to make sure they covered their ass in case I croak on the table. Maybe they should also run a pre-op credit check.

What's next? "Sorry sir, but we can't operate because your FICO score is too low." or worse yet "It's our Presidents Day appendectomy sale. No credit, no problem. Only $100 down with our low, low financing". What the hell is up with that?

So we'll see if they operate at 10:30 tomorrow morning. I will have my banker on alert and make sure I have a balanced portfolio with no CDEs. Oh, and I have to remember to bring my own crutches, because apparently the hospital does not provide you with these post-op necessities.

My next post will be under the influence of Percacet. That should be a doozey.

Politics of toddlers

S turned 3 in March and in my unbiased, completely objective opinion, she's way smarter than the average 3 year old. You do realize that close to 75% of people think they are above average, so 25% of them are wrong. I assure you that I am not the 1 among my 3 peers who has an error in judgment.

But enough about me; let's talk about my smart daughter who has benefited from my genes. (Please note that I did not say smart genes, just that my daughter is smart and there is a 50-50 chance that I had something to do with it). OK. Now that we have that out of the way, I can continue with my story. [yeesh]

S knows about "please" and "thank you" and "excuse me" and all the stuff that would make Judith Martin proud. Her smartness comes in at using these words to get what she wants from her at-first-unsuspecting-and now-totally-on-to-her parents. So at first you ask your child to say please when she wants something. Then you give that thing to her. "Please, can I watch some TV? " "OK. Since you asked nicely..." So she learns the power of using the right words and parents act like they've been sucker-punched when these words come back to bite them.

"Please, can I watch some TV? Please?" Now the 2nd use of the magic word is the first hint that your child has gone for the nuclear option. She wants that Curious George and she's not messing around with a single please. These smaller version of yourselves are quite smart (although mine is smarter than the average, especially from the offspring of Mr&Mrs 25% over there) and know what to do.

We constantly get bombarded with words-as-weapons; the "please" cluster bomb is the most deadly, frustrating one of all. And there is no reprieve. There is no Osama bunker in our UES apartment to which we can escape. No Viet-cong tunnel with booby trapped entrance conveniently situated in our bedroom. No escape hatch to whisk us off the Death Star while Luke Skywalker (Jr.) has dropped the smart bomb.

So what do we do? We go on walks, alone, by ourselves, without kids (One at a time of-course). Or we go out for a drink with a friend. Or go to the movies by ourselves.

And what do we do during these self-imposed exiles? Think about all the wonderful things that these mini-me's have done that enrich our lives, make us smile, and make us want more of them. The latter only happens after a loooong walk -- I'm talking 5-7 miles, not a stroll around the Jackie O. -- and perhaps a few pints of lager.

Random thoughts about skiing

I was downloading the digital camera pix into Picasa today and came across some pictures from this winter. As I'm getting ready for my knee surgery (T-3 days) , I can't help but think back to the great fun I had skiing with S. It was a great experience for me from many perspectives.

First, I had the opportunity to pass along to my offspring an activity that I enjoy. I hope this becomes a family thing for us, them, and their children. Some families get into golfing, fishing, camping, vegging in front of the TV, or flying kites. I want us to tbe the skiing family. "Look at that skiing family over there. They are such ... skiers." I've decided that I'm keeping the ski gear that I got S this winter. She'll probably get another season's use out of both the boots and the skis, then it'll be G's turn. Like it or not, she'll be strapping on skis and sliding down that hill.

Although the skis that you see in these pictures are not the ones I'm keeping. These orange ones were the rentals we got from McAfee's Ski & Snowboard on the first day out. The ones she used for the rest of the season were from Ski Barn in Wayne, NJ and they're brand new; both boots and skis. They didn't have her size boots and skis in the rental department, so they pulled new Rossignols ones and gave it to me for the lease program. The boots match the skis with pink hearts and bears and flowers. A total ski bunny package for S. Gotta love it. In a few years, she's going to kick my ass down the steeps and will be waiting at the lift with this "what took you so long, old man" grin on her face. All I know is head to head on a straightaway, I can still go faster than her. I have an advantage that she's unlikely to match: I weight more than she does.

Second, the time we (as a family) invested in doing the activity was worthwhile. Although on a couple of occasions the total ski time was far less then travel time, I enjoyed spending time as a family. We logged a dozen or so hours with the kids in the back, MLW as my co-pilot, and me, the man of the family, at the wheel; speeding down the highways of New Jersey, listening to the sounds of snoring from all three sides, with my trusty cup o' joe getting us safely back to Manhattan.


Third, although we live in an urban environment and love it, I enjoy getting out in the country. The cold mountain air is exhilarating and calming at the same time. It's my version of nicotine. I am a green person at heart and want to make sure that there will be ski areas and snow for my kids when they grow up. I'm hoping that by seeing what we now have, they will also work to preserve it and enjoy it when they are my age.

So, I'm being a little nostalgic here, but it's my blog and I can say whatever I want. If I want I can even say Sheboygan, just like that.

Finally

I've been trying to post an entry for a couple of days. Every time I get in front of the laptop, there is something that pulls me away. I like having time to spend with the kids, especially when we do an activity. Yesterday S and I went to a playground on the West Side. Although that wasn't my initial idea.

I was planning on going to Rite Aid on Broadway for paper towels and wipes. I know they usually have good deals on both. When the bus dropped us off at Broadway, my engineer brain ran some quick calculations and informed me that if we did the shopping at that time, we would be back too early. So I decided to go to a playground. S kept asking if we're going to the "dinosaur playground" and I did not want to commit lest she throw a fit when it turned out to be just a simple pedestrian playground.

Indeed she knew what she was talking about. It was the Dinosaur Playground. I guess she's been to more playgrounds than I have. In the past week S has matured from a social skills perspective. She is yearning for playmates and at any playground she looks for someone who she can play with. Today, it was a 2 year old girls and her 4 year old brother. S properly introduced herself and asked the girl what her name was. Then she said, "let's play" and they were off on a chase around the playground. The kids' mother and I trying to catch up and help them up on the rings, the structure, the dinosaurs, etc.

After a while the little girl wanted some juice, otherwise S can keep playing without taking a break. She had a few bites of the chicken fingers and some water. All the while, S's interacting with the other kids and wanting to play. I felt very good about the whole thing. I am proud of the way she conducts herself, her self-assurance, her empathy, and her fun-loving personality.

And what about the paper towels and wipes? My engineer brain was out of commission and we had to rush back home. Who needs wipes anyway?

Significant event- update 2

Got my pre-op bloodwork done. I didn't have to fast for it which was really good. Primary will send the results to the surgeon tomorrow. I got my script for Percocet filled and I know where I'm going to get my crutches. The surgeon said the anesthesia will be done via a mask and no intubation will be required. If I want I can get a local and watch it on TV. Not a big fan of that, although it does sound interesting. Maybe I can ask him to TiVo it and I can watch it later, or post it to my blog.

7 more days to d-day. I'm all ready to go. Now only if G passes the golf ball she's been cultivating in her bowels...

Night Off

I saw Iron Man last night and I was very impressed. They did a great job of building the Tony Stark character and Robert Downey Jr was a great casting decision for the role. The best line in the movie belongs to Gwyneth Paltrow with "I occasionally have to put out the trash".

Of course I am biased in liking a Marvel movie as I have a collection of over 2000 comic books. They are mainly Spiderman and X-Men, but I do have a considerable number of Avengers, The Incredible Hulk, and I think I have the complete set of Alpha Flight series. Probably the only one south of Canada ;-) Iron man makes appearances in many issues of the Avengers.

It was good to have a night out, even if it was by myself, alone, in a dark theater. Sounds kinda sordid, like Pee-wee Herman, except for the movie genre. With the exception of being able to ask "So, what did you think about the movie?", I actually don't mind going to the movies by myself.

I am looking forward to the Indiana Jones and Batman movies coming out. Although the previews for the Hulk looked promising. Seeing Edward Norton as Bruce Banner might actually be a draw for me.

Significant event - Update 1

For those rabid followers, who have been begging and pleading for an update on my surgery.

I called my primary to setup an appointment for a "pre-op". That's Dr. speak for running blood tests and getting a release from a Dr. who supposedly knows me better than the specialist/cutter. I have a call into Dr. Gladstone to see if he will be on call Memorial Day weekend (just in case of complications) and to find out whether they're going to put me out or administer a local anesthesia. Never having gone through a real surgery, I completely forgot to ask about that.

Mothers' Day

It is a wonderful day in NYC. The weather is great, the kids are still sleeping, I have time to myself. What more can one ask for. For her day, MLW had asked that I give her just that: a day, by herself to do whatever she wants. So I decided to take the kids to see the Statues of Liberty. Only S would be able to enjoy it, with G along for the ride.

[Sidenote: 3 hours have passed since I finished the above paragraph. As I was typing "still sleeping", I heard stirring from the girls room on the monitor.]

If you have not had the "pleasure" of riding the NYC subway on a weekend, I invite you to take part in this form of masochism. During the week, the subway is the lifeline of the city, but on weekends it turns into a mess of confusion. The poorly posted and unclear signs join the chorus of garbled announcements to drive you nuts. Just to cut this short, I took the 1 train which on any given day is supposed to take you, albeit very slowly, to South Ferry. Having trekked down to John and Hera's on 14th street last night, I knew the 2 and 3 are running local to Chambers St. I figured I can take any one and change at Chambers to the 1 train.

So the first train was the 1, which we took. We switched to the 3 at 14th St to Chambers, because of construction. At no time during the 45 minute trip from 96th Street to Chambers Street did I see a sign, hear an announcement, nor did I get a psychic vibe that THERE IS NO #1 SERVICE TO SOUTH FERRY. We had to get on a shuttle bus at Chambers to South Ferry. All in all, it wasn't that bad, but the whole going up and down steps with S, who insists on walking, by herself, unassisted, holding the grimy handrail was a bit tiring.

The Ferry ride was very nice and S did get a kick out of getting on a "boat" and seeing the SoL. We had snacks on board and even G had some formula. We did the roundtrip on the same boat and this time we sat on the lower level at an open window. You can see the SoL at the top of the B on S's Red Sox cap.


Much easier to get back on the 5 train. We even helped some tourists form Prague get to Chinatown.

Another thing we'll miss about New York

We just got back from J and H's. It was a lovely time. The kids played very well together and nobody got hurt. Not even the adults; although J and I may be feeling the hurt of the 4 beers that we had tonight. We are such light-weights!!!

Tomorrow being mothers' day and all, we both will have our hands full with the kids, I'm sure. If both moms decide to do some alone time activity -- MLW for sure has asked that I give her a day off as a mothers day present and by golly she's going to get exactly what she asked for -- J and I may get together for some playground time in Central Park.

We really enjoy getting together with J and H. They are great people and are easy to hang with. We can sit around for hours and talk about nothing in particular, while the kids play around us. I'm sure if the kids were at it all the time, I would feel differently.

S's haircut

MLW has given me the day off. It's been great so far. I messed around with this blog business, setup my twitter account, and made myself some foul (pronounced fool), which is baked chick peas with cumin and garlic. It was a very lazy morning and I appreciate getting the time to do some stuff for me.

When I called MLW, they were on their way back and looking to get S a haircut around the corner. I went downstairs to join them and captured these shots of the glam-girls at Prestige Salon:


It seems they had a great time at the Metropolitan Museum and were ready for some girly-girl things. I was the official photographer for the event. We then treated ourselves to some pizza at La Famiglia.

Significant event

This is not something new, yet it's something that is significant. I am going under the knife on May 21, 2008 at Mount Sinai to fix my knee. It's long story...

My right knee has been bothering me since July of 2007. I got an X-ray which was negative and the pain was not consistent, so I let it go. Then around January of 2008, I decided to go for a long overdue physical and asked my doctor about the knee. He referred me to an Orthopedic surgeon. This new guy ordered another batch of X-rays and then sent me to get an MRI. The MRI showed "an oblique undersurface tear in the posterior horn of the medial meniscus."

He said that the way to fix it is to cut out the torn part by arthroscopic surgery. He explained that there is minimal risk involved and that I can resume normal activity shortly after the out-patient procedure. He then sent in his nurse to schedule the operation. Bang-bang-bang!

At first, I thought that they had their shit together and it was good that this guy was going to do the cutting. But after walking out of the room and thinking about it, I decided that a) I needed a 2nd opinion and b) I did not care for the off-hand way the whole thing was handled. I mean, if I was taking my car into service and the guy told me I needed to replace my struts, I'd take it to another mechanic just to make sure the first guy hadn't overlooked something. More importantly, I felt like a piece of meat being put through the machinery at this place. Slow down there, doc. Let it sink in and let me make a decision not based on your next availability but my comfort level at letting someone rip through my flesh. (technically, they only puncture your flesh, but I thought "rip" was more dramatic) So I got my MRI images (I posted 2 of the 134 images on a CD) and got a 2nd and 3rd opinion. It was unanimous: To get rid of the pain, I would require surgery.

So, on May 21, Dr. James Gladstone is going to do the honors. I have to say that I really liked the way Dr. Gladstone handled the interaction. He answered all my questions and was actually expecting me to have questions. He showed me the MRI images and the tear (that's how I knew what to put on this blog) in the meniscus, which is what I did not get from the 1st guy. I asked about scheduling the procedure and I already have my prescription for crutches and Percocet.

I suppose this is the countdown. 11 days away.

First official post

For some reason my blog was flagged as a spam blog. I have no idea why since a) it did not have any postingsand b) did not subscribe to any other feeds/blogs.

It seems that my request to un-block my id has worked, since I am posting this on my new blog.

Looking forward to using this. Now if I had something to write a blog about....