Ryan and Tony

During 2-day trip to Yosemite that ended today, I happened across a memorial service for Ryan Hiller, who was killed not long ago when a tree fell on the tent cabin in which Hiller was sleeping. I caught just the last portion of the service, and I sat on a nearby bench for awhile to watch the proceedings. I was somewhat perplexed about why one of the rangers was videotaping the event, more perplexed when, when things were ending, there was great commotion as the man who seemed to be in charge positioned everyone for the group photos. Perhaps these would be good mementos for Hiller's family. I don't know. Getting "everyone in uniform" at the front of the crowd seemed a bit much, but then again, I wasn't part of the ceremony and certainly didn't know Hiller.

I have been backpacking many times, both alone and with others, and I long ago learned the term "widow-makers": those trees and heavy branches that sometimes fall onto who lies beneath them. More than once I have pitched my tent beneath a tree and looked up to see which falling object would damage me the least.

I was, though, touched to see that Hiller was remembered so formally and so well, and I was glad that I lingered for a bit. But, I might not have lingered at all if it weren't for Tony Magdaleno, who might have been the first Mexican I ever met. Tony was on my Little League team, and he had trouble throwing a baseball because of a bad elbow. I remember asking how he'd hurt it, and he said that he'd somehow caught his arm in a washing machine. We were good friends while we played together, and I seem to remember his home as being a run down apartment building of some sort, probably the kind of place farm workers lived in my hometown. I'm sketchy on the details of such things, though, for it has been a long time. Not long after we moved to California, I heard that Tony had been a car accident of some sort, and he'd come out the other end with a broken neck and paralyzed legs.

Tony died earlier just a couple of weeks ago, though I didn't read about it until 2 days before heading to Yosemite. In fact, I read his obituary in the online edition of my hometown newspaper, which not too long ago let me know that one of my best boyhood friends had died. I need to stop reading that newspaper, I think. In Tony's obituary, which is short, I read that "He was an accomplished athlete and a true champion. He was a cross-country runner in Illinois before his car accident and is in the Woodstock High School Hall of Fame. He was an inspiration to many." Think of that: a cross-country runner before his car accident. I remember him as tall and thin, someone who was probably physically perfect for long-distance running. He never could throw a baseball very far, but I can imagine he could run.

I suppose I was thinking about Tony 2 weeks ago when a woman with the last name of "Magdaleno" showed up on the roster for a course I started teaching. Last Thursday after class (and the day before I read Tony's obituary), the woman signed the role sheet in the wrong spot because she hadn't seen her name. "You're on the roster," I told her, and I showed her where.

There is, though, no good ending to all of this, at least not one that I've been able to write. I've looked at these paragraphs several times, and I think any attempt at connecting things would probably be futile. Maybe I just miss Tony, or maybe I wish I'd met Ryan Hiller.

Reading, Writing, and a Little Arithmetic

Many times in this so-called blog I have discussed or alluded to teaching, an avocation that is showing signs of having run its course. I am old, and old people need their rest. Neither wise as a man nor gifted as a teacher, I sometimes now stand in front of my students and think that they would be better off elsewhere. Regardless, I continue to sign up for the teaching gigs, so I've got nobody to blame but myself. If my students want to blame someone, they can talk to the academic adviser who stuck them with me.

Most of my teaching has taken place at a large, privately owned university that, at its inception, was geared toward professional adults who quite often needed a college degree to move up the corporate ladder. The students had to be at least 23 years old. They had to be employed. They were expected to behave professionally in the classroom. As an instructor, these 3 requirements made my life easier, for the students were dedicated to their educations and didn't complain when they had a lot of schoolwork to complete.

But, when the university ran out of this type of student, they lowered the age requirement to 21, and the students no longer had to be employed. Not long afterward, I suppose when all the 21-year-old customers were gone, the age got lowered to 18. Today, much of the student population is, it seems to me, rather unmotivated. Of course, we always remember the outliers, the worst examples and the best. Students at this university take only one course at a time, and the course itself lasts just 5 weeks. Still, I hear many complaints about how difficult it is to write, I don't know, a 1,200-word essay while at the same time doing the required reading. Years ago I would show my empathy and say, "Yes, I understand how busy your lives are, but I think you can do it." Now, I'm more apt to say, "Imagine that--college is difficult."

I am old, and I am cranky.

In a couple of days I begin teaching a literature course for this university, which is a nice change from the composition courses I have worked through lately. Most of the students' material at this school is provided online, but a physical textbook is required for this course. So, being diligent, a couple of weeks ago I sent an email to the students to remind them to buy the book, that they will not succeed in the course

Pins and Needles: Part 2

Well, well, well. With admirable expediency, my insurance company has informed me that, though my general physician referred me to an acupuncturist, my health plan does not cover acupuncture for me since I am not being treated for "pain and nausea as a result of chemotherapy, early pregnancy or post-operative procedures." Basically, Tina, the person who apparently replied to my query, simply quoted back what I'd written, though her use of punctuation is somewhat bothersome. I'm happy, though, because Tina closed her message with "Please be sure to take care!"

Fine.

Looking through my health benefits documents, though, I do find some possible alternatives. For example, as part of my mental health coverage (which might be of more value than acupuncture), I could get "electro-convulsive treatment" on either an in-patient or an outpatient basis. I could also enjoy fairly generous treatment for substance abuse. But, since I'm in denial of my abuse of any substance, I'll have to ignore that one. Then, should I lose an arm, leg, ear, or other body part, or if I ever need an artificial face, replacement parts would be covered; I can even rent a prosthesis, if I need to, and then get reimbursed!

When I go back to see my doctor in a couple of months, I'm not sure of how I'll break the news to him, how I'll tell him that his referral is much too expensive for me. Perhaps he and I will figure something out--maybe narcotics, which seem much easier to obtain than actual treatment.

Pins and Needles: Part 1

There's an old joke.

A man says to his doctor, "Doctor, it hurts when I do this."
The doctor looks at the man and says, "Don't do that anymore. Pay the receptionist on the way out."

Except for it being a joke, my doctor and I had a similar conversation a couple weeks ago. I like my doctor; I even trust him. He's the kind of guy who, if he had to tell me I was dying, would do a good job of it. He knows not just my medical history, but other things I've not told anyone else. In our most recent visit, he said he would refer me to an acupuncturist, the same one he has seen. I'm not convinced that acupuncture is a valid treatment for the body, but if it deceives the body by working on the mind, I'd be happy.

So, today, I tried to find out if acupuncture is covered by my insurance plan, and I finally found it mentioned in the "Special Services" document. The insurance company itself is quite large and apparently negotiates quite well with the blood lab I frequent and the doctor I visit. The lab and the doctor will charge, oh, $150 for one thing or another, but the insurance company works that down by at least half, pays a portion of it, and leaves the remainder to me so that I can meet my deductible. Anyway. Reading what I could find about what my insurance plan does and does not covered, I found mention of acupuncture in a document titled "Special Services," but that it's a covered treatment if 2 things are true: the provider is licensed (I like that one), and the second...well, that's where I'm flummoxed. If I am reading the document correctly, the second "truth" is that I have to be treated for "chronic pain and nausea as a result of one of the following: chemotherapy, early pregnancy, and post-operative procedures."

In an attempt to find more, I sent an email to the contact listed on the insurance company's website, and I received a prompt acknowledgement of that email, but I may not receive an actual answer for up to 3 business days. If I get the answer my doctor and I both want, I'll then contact the licensed acupuncturist to see about seeing him. If I do not get the correct answer, I suppose I'll have to do nothing.

It's kind of a funny thing, this health insurance stuff. This "Special Services" document doesn't make clear what is or is not covered with acupuncture, but it is quite clear about hospice care's being covered at "90% of eligible expenses after satisfying the deductible." That's the kind of plain talk I can appreciate.