Palatine Uvula

n. (yoo-vyuh-luh) The small, fleshy, conical body projecting downward from the middle of the soft palate. The uvula is of course that little length of flesh that hangs from the back of our mouth over our throat. It's formed during development as the last step in fusing the two halves of the soft palate, as it "zips up" from front to back. We all got one, but rarely do we pay attention to it. There's no need. It's out of sight and out of mind. Unless you're my friend KJH. The word itself is derived from the diminutive of "uva", the Latin word for "grape". Here in America, we don't utilize our little fruit muscle much at all. Aside from the folks that like to touch it after dinner to make themselves vomit, we really only use it to block air from our lungs to make a few noises. Most often that's the /b/ sound. If you're German, French, Hebrew or Hmong, you'll use it a lot more when pronouncing the uvular consonants common to those languages. But for us here in the US it's, essentially, nonessential. 

 

So how does KJH fit into this little anatomy lesson? Let me tell you. I saw the biggest, reddest, most unbelievably inflamed uvula of my life in the mouth of my friend the other day. I'll be honest, I don't get the chance to check out many uvulas, but I am 100% certain this was the most engorged uvula I have ever encountered. KJ was visiting from Chicago last weekend. I took him fishing and he caught his first ever largemouth bass. That was awesome and I thought it was going to be the highlight of the visit. But then this happened. I can't get the image out of my head. This thing was as big as the bait we were using to catch fish. I gag at the mere thought of the finger-sized uvula that was resting on this dude's tongue early the next morning. (Gag) Seriously. It will forever be the weekend of the uvula. I was a little freaked out. KJ, on the other hand, decided to eat a bowl of Rice Krispies. 

 

How he got anything past that sea cucumber in his craw is beyond me. I was going to suggest gargling with salt water, but was afraid that might make it mad. He says this is the 3rd time he's experienced this malady. (Gag) Although, he did admit the instances before weren't as bad. I had to mention the thunderous snoring that woke me up around 2 am. He must have been playing some serious tonsil hockey with that thing and it had to be related to his current condition. But did the snoring cause the swelling or did the giant sack in his mouth cause the snoring? Either way, I couldn't believe he was so calm about it. I'm not exaggerating; it was like a superfluous tongue in his throat. But KJ nonchalantly packed his bag, filled a little water bottle with a lot of ice and bid his adieu. I think I just used my uvula. (Gag) 

 

Fast Forward to Wednesday. I'm emailing KJ and his uvula is still distended. He can't speak right so he's telling people he has a "sore throat". Yeah, I guess I'd be embarrassed to tell people there was actually an alien growing out of my pie hole too. 4 days in and he's starting to get worried now. We're looking up symptoms and treatment on the Internet. KJ starts mentally preparing for the impending uvulaectomy that we determined is his only option. He gets an appt. with his Dr. for 3pm and leaves work early. 

 

 Got a message from Ken, I mean KJ, first thing this morning. Dr. prescribed some heavy duty steroids, but left his musculus uvuae intact. He reports a sore punching bag, unusual feelings of aggression and tender breasts, but his uvula is already back to normal size. Whew. Close call. And what, you may be asking, is the moral of this story? The hell if I know! I'm just glad KJ can talk and I hope to never see anything like that in someone's mouth ever again.

Chapter 35

"Reverend Mother always says when the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window." So true Fraulein Maria. And so it goes at the close of chapter 34 of the book of Matthew. After an excruciatingly long 14 months of trying to sell our house, we finally inked a contract on Monday. We had to suffer through a string of complications, mostly caused by the prominent Twin Cities surgeon who was buying our place for his daughter, but came to a deal in the end that was really good...for the Doctor. Whatever. We couldn't bear the thought of another year of open houses and private showings and cleaning. God, the cleaning, it was insane. But what-ever. We sold and were poised to make a move on the 4br. in Eagan that we've had staked out for about 3 months! Then, on Tuesday, the day after we signed off on our house, we were informed that another party already has a purchase agreement written for the same property. Our property. They looked at it for the first time at 2pm that afternoon and had the offer ready by 4. POW! What a kick in the teeth.

I won't burden you with all the details of the next few days, but things were tense. When a 3rd party jumped in with an offer of their own, things turned downright agonizing. I couldn't believe it. We took a hit on our own sale because we had this one home waiting for us. How could it be that on the first day we could even think about making an offer, 2 separate parties decide they want it? This house had been sitting quiet, in this horrendous housing market, with no activity whatsoever, since October 06! The listing price had dropped 3 times already and was now at a figure that put this dream home within inches of our reach. The stress was dizzying. But the owners were cool and chose to hold off on the first offer and hear all 3 at the same time. Why wouldn't they? I'm sure they were doing back flips at the thought of the bidding war that was about to take place.

And war it was. A bloody, messy, leave no prisoners alive war. The owner's realtor, who quickly lost control over this frenzied and emotional situation, had to reveal that she had never dealt with a multiple offer situation before. Our Realtor was having a hard time managing all the curve balls that were being thrown at us. She's no amateur, and had unquestionably brought her A game, but we could see she was more than frustrated with the imbroglio that this was turning into. When one of the parties chose to drop out, probably due to the chaos, we thought, "finally, some help." But then we were told they decided to put an offer on our #2 house instead! Then we find out the one that was left, the one that saw the house on Tues and decided to buy it immediately, had a Chinese realtor who couldn't speak English. Who hires a realtor to represent you in a major deal that can't speak English? That's just kooky. There was just too much stacking up against us. We felt defeated before the owners even heard our official offer. Our realtor kept saying, "If this isn't the house for you, you'll know why, in 2 weeks, when you find the one that is." She really was trying to be helpful. I was looking up the address of the local Extended Stay America. We were going to need some place to go when the Dr's daughter kicks us out. When a shelf in our garage fell off the wall and landed on the hood of our new car, leaving multiple etchings and 3 dents, I almost lost it. Signs, signs, everywhere there's signs.

We had done a lot number crunching, and soul searching, and came up with a plan. If we were going to get this house, we had to give them our strongest offer up front. No messing around. No playing games. We had one chance to present to them and we couldn't blow it. We were in no position to undercut their asking price like Dr. McStingy did to us. Like were planning to do only 5 days earlier. We had our number, asked for almost nothing extra in the deal, and had to make peace with that. We came to the point where we had to say this is honestly the best we can do, and as they say: Let Go, Let God. If we don't get the house...

The owners chose to accept our offer.

In this, my birth month, I am about to make yet another major life change. I can't be more pleased. And it's not just the new house. That's really the icing on my birthday cake. What I'm most proud of is the family that is taking this step with me. I have the most radiant & remarkable wife a man can hope for; and two of the most extraordinary daughters, who blow my mind every single day, by my side. To have these women in my life is truly miraculous. And that is the gift I'm utmost thankful for. I love you girls. Now let's start packing!

ABC, Easy As 123

Who watched the 80th anual Scripps National Spelling Bee last nite? May I have the language of origin? Are there any alternative pronunciations? Dang, the competition was feirce. Those kids were unbeleivable. Hats off to 13 year old Evan O'Dorney who walked away with the trophey after throwing down "serrefine" (SEHR'-ah-feen). The camera shot of the tear welling up in fellow eighth grader Nate Gartke's eye, when he realised he just took second, was more hart wrenching than George failing the Intern Exam. Intellectual athleticks, cerebral competition and reallity TV at it's finest. Take that Trebek!

But how 'bout that ending? First off, why was it that a Canadian almost won our National Spelling Bee? Second, did Evan O'Dorney understand that he just won our National Spelling Bee? At the close of the contest, ESPN's Stuart Scott jumps onstage to interview the Baby Einstein and gets absolutely no reaction from the kid. None. Zero. Zilch. Zot. Scott tried to create some energy, à la "Tom Brady, you just won the Super Bowl! What are you going to do next?" but failed to elicit any "I'm going to Disney World!" enthusiasm from the 4ft. dictionary in round rimmed glasses. The fact is, we were told by Evan himself, earlier in the broadcast, that he doesn't even like spelling. Mathematics, martial arts and composing piano concertos are his true passions.

Scott: Would you like to, maybe, reassess your likability of the National Spelling Bee?
(Evan had no response. No reaction at all. He just stood there.)
Scott: How do you feel about it now?
O'Dorney: Are you saying I'm supposed to like it more?

It was actually uncomfortable to see. Scott was twisting in the wind. O'Dorney seemed utterly ambivalent towards the whole thing. I just had to laugh at the awkwardness of it all. Now, I don't want to take away anything from Evan O'Dorney's decisive win or prodigious command of all things linguistic; he kicked some serious Bee ass. A-S-S, ass. But I couldn't help but think how children with autism spectrum disorders often can't differentiate between a smile and a frown. It was a strange moment. Sort of the triumph of victory and the agony of defeat at the exact same time.