Columns

A student was waiting at my desk as I walked into the classroom. I smiled as I dropped my books on the desk and looked at her expectantly. She’d been absent the previous day. “Mrs. Lott, did we do anything while I was gone?” That was a stupid question. My…

I looked to the right and then to the left, searching in vain for landmarks. I had no clue where we were in the water. I was leading a group of divers and had just committed a gross and dangerous error: I had gotten us lost! We swam on the…

Click! It’s time for a routine checkup. I wait a few minutes for the webpage to load, then add the parameters of my proposed travel. Anxiously, I scan the list of available flights and begin my research. I have certain criteria for the booking; paramount is the cost of the…

“Band! A-tennnnn-hut!” I watched for the lift of the drum major’s shoulders because the roar of the crowd — in what’s now called Jordan-Hare Stadium, at Auburn University in Alabama — was too loud for anyone in the clarinet section to hear him count off. I double-time…

Note: This column describes the author’s own thoughts about Enjaymo (sutimlimab-jome) and experiences with Rituxan (rituximab). Not everyone will have the same response to treatment. Consult your doctor before starting or stopping a therapy. Yay! Happy days to come! Such was the reaction of many in the…

It was with great relief that I read the report. My quest for a diagnosis, which turned out to be cold agglutinin disease (CAD), was almost at an end. In September 2016, I was determined to push through the confusion and find someone who could figure…

I slather zinc oxide ointment all over my nose, plop on my hat, and jump in the pool. I have been given instructions to rest and get better. My friend said, “Come over whenever you want,” and I intend to take full advantage of that offer. My goals for the…

It didn’t surprise anyone that on Dec. 11, 2019, I was attending another school band concert, given that my husband, Mike, is the band director. But this particular concert was memorable not because of the music, but for the familiar burning tickle in the back of my throat. It presaged…

I clasped the wad of papers in my hand and made my way to the sign that read “Admitting.” I slumped into the chair and mumbled answers to the person on the other side of the desk. Most people say they don’t like hospital stays, but I don’t mind them.

I opened the front door and, clippers in hand, skipped out to see the full blossom of my yellow rose. I purchased the plant back in the middle of February. It had one nursery-forced bloom, which faded away after a week. Now would begin the real test of growth. Could…