Professor Guerrero's Blog

mguerrero@gmail.com

Co-author of East of Tiffany's, 13 short stories of a Latino immigrant's success in USA; a journey from West Harlem to Sutton Place and Park Avenue. Check out the reviews in Amazon.com and in Barnes and Noble.

on KINDLE on NOOK

My best seller as of now is

Titanes de la Filosofia

Professor Guerrero's Blog: Premature and Blue Babies Get Divine Protection Professor Guerrero's Blog: Book Reviews, Human Interest Articles, Accounting Lessons, and Writing Techniques

Book Reviews  

Books

Sentence Openers Book: FREE Lessons

Jane Austen  

Boethius: Consolation of Philosophy

How to Become a Writer  

Personal Finance  

Self Help, Wealth, & Learning

Greeks Romans Trojans  

Feminism  

Great Gatsby: Is Nick Gay?

All my books are now in NOOK

Ideas About the Novel is a prophetic book that all writers must own.

Ideas About the Novel by Ortega y Gasset - my translation $0.99


Next to Cervantes, Benito Perez Galdos is the most beloved Spanish writer of all times.

Torquemada at the Stake by Perez Galdos- my translation $0.99

Lazarillo of Tormes - my translation $0.99
Read it in contemporary English -- No Thous, Thees, or King James' Bible language. Transliterated into easy language for enjoyable reading pleasure. Because The Lazarillo of Tormes pointed a new direction, European and American literature benefited with titles that today are considered classics: Cervantes’ Rinconete and Cortadillo; Daniel Defoe’s Moll Flanders, Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones and Joseph Andrews; Tobias Smollett’s Roderick Random, and Peregrine Pickle; Voltaire’s Candide; Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. And many others to include American works ranging from Mark Twain to Saul Bellow.

Dehumanization of Art by Ortega y Gasset - my translation $0.99
The Dehumanization of Art— is now a constant in music, literature, aesthetics, and philosophy, having come to mean that in post-modern times human-shaped mimesis (representation of the human) is irrelevant to art. According to Ortega, the arts don't have to tell a human story; art should deal with its own forms—and not with the human form.

Sentence Openers
How writers open their sentences makes prose agile, interesting, and athletic. This e-book teaches how to break the pattern Subject-verb-object--and discard openings that begin with nouns, articles, and pronouns.

East of Tiffany's - bestseller $5
With the city as its backdrop "East of Tiffany's" is filled with earnest tales of love, loss, faith, success and morality. While business terminology is interwoven throughout these short stories, it's not business lessons that I take away with me, but life lessons. The circumstances and the characters' profound humanity are relatable despite their zip code . "Luke, Postmodern Man" offers a new vista into faith, suffering, and love of neighbor. Way after you read this book you'll find yourself thinking about the various characters throughout the series of stories and will find solace in their unwavering faith. The narrators' ability to reflect on their hardships with such serenity is inspiring.



My writing was as flat as a sidewalk. And then I downloaded ...

Mary Duffy's Toolbox for Writers
After I purchased Mary's e-book I started to get 'A's in my essays and term papers! Every page is filled with great writing tips, training lessons, and wonderful useful writing skills! Not only do I write essays for college, but also short stories!
--IVONNIE Indrawan
College student
Sentence Openers on KINDLE

Sentence Openers on NOOK













All my books are now in KINDLE


Ideas About the Novel by Ortega y Gasset - my translation $0.99
Torquemada at the Stake by Perez Galdos- my translation $0.99
Lazarillo of Tormes - my translation $0.99
Dehumanization of Art by Ortega y Gasset - my translation $0.99
Sentence Openers
East of Tiffany's - bestseller $5


The most beloved short story from Spanish literature
All my books are in NOOK $0.99 or in Amazon KINDLE $0.99








All my books are now in NOOK

Ideas About the Novel is a prophetic book that all writers must own.
Ideas About the Novel by Ortega y Gasset - my translation $0.99

Next to Cervantes, Benito Perez Galdos is the most beloved Spanish writer of all times.

Torquemada at the Stake by Perez Galdos- my translation $0.99

Lazarillo of Tormes - my translation $0.99
Read it in contemporary English -- No Thous, Thees, or King James' Bible language.

Dehumanization of Art by Ortega y Gasset - my translation $0.99
The Dehumanization of Art— is now a constant in music, literature, aesthetics, and philosophy, having come to mean that in post-modern times human-shaped mimesis (representation of the human) is irrelevant to art.

Sentence Openers
How writers open their sentences makes prose agile, interesting, and athletic.

East of Tiffany's - bestseller $5
With the city as its backdrop "East of Tiffany's" is filled with earnest tales of love, loss, faith, success and morality.



My writing was as flat as a sidewalk. And then I downloaded ...

Mary Duffy's Toolbox for Writers
After I purchased Mary's e-book I started to get 'A's in my essays and term papers!
--Ivonnie Indrawan
College student
Sentence Openers on KINDLE

Sentence Openers on NOOK





Available in KINDLE $0.99


Available in KINDLE $0.99

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Premature and Blue Babies Get Divine Protection

Umbilical cord of a three-minute-old child.  A...Image via Wikipedia


Last week it was my daughter Heather's birthday-now 25! Out of college, employed, about to get married, and wise, and pretty, I couldn't be but the proudest father on Earth. I thought I heard her say, "... a promotion with a salary increase," as she punched the microwave buttons to heat the fudge, the sweet scent of the hot fudge quickly filling the kitchen.

Then in a hallucinating second, the kitchen surroundings became the delivery room at New York Hospital; the hospital where my baby was born. Suddenly I saw myself clad in a white gown; I had been allowed to watch the delivery. And as I held my wife's hand and watched the miracle of birth, in a New York minute the dazzling brightness of the room change into dark foreboding.

Something was definitely wrong!

The turmoil that ensued left me paralyzed: beepers resonated, screens flashed, voices became louder, commands snapped. At first I heard whispers: "umbilical cord..." "blue ..." "oxygenation ..." "blue baby!" And then shouts, "upstairs-code blue!"

The rush of the moment had beclouded my reason, and all I could think of was that I had lost my daughter; that my baby was born still. Since no one bothered to explain what was happening, my mind filled itself with the worst thoughts. All the offending acts of my life marched in procession in front of me, mocking me, reminding me that I wasn't a perfect human being, and that I had sinned against God, stranger, and neighbor. Guilt assailed me.

In my distress I called to the Lord

In utter despair, my mind beclouded, yet not quite panicked, I fell on my knees and I raised my eyes to the heavens and begged, "I have tested your patience dear Lord, punish me, but let this child live." Raspy and cracked and lame my voice kept repeating, "Take me God, but don't take her." Having forgotten my prayers, since I had been away from church for many years, all I could manage was to repeat my own simple words.

The nurse that had been left behind promptly attended to my wife, soothing her, calming her down. But she had no more information about my baby than I did. Seeing my distress, she assured me that the rush and the turmoil were really precautionary, and that the babies usually recovered; that they had a special unit on the sixth floor for the "pree-mees," (prematurely born), the "blue babies," and other difficult births.

"They got the best equipment and trained personnel in the world!" she boasted. "Upstairs, is like a space ship."

"Where, upstairs?" I asked her. "Will they let me in?"

"Yes, parents are allowed, but not during the emergency. But go and see."

My heart in my mouth, half-tripping on my own clumsy steps, I made a mad dash toward the elevators. Once on the sixth floor, through the wide glass windows I could see the obstetrician and his retinue gathered around an incubator. Apparently, the child had been saved, for everyone in the group seemed to be collected; in fact they appeared cheerful, smiles showing on their faces.

Of all the faces in the group, one looked in my direction and nodded in a reassuring way. I found this incongruous, for the man was a giant, a tall and heavy African American, clad in a light blue uniform, with a matching cap--obviously a male nurse. Yet his smile and nod seemed odd, almost angelic.

Not wanting to be called out for trespassing, I hurried back to tell my wife that the baby was saved; that she was breathing on her own in an incubator. As I hustle back, the hallways seemed long and interminable, the elevator slow, my own steps ungainly, and I moved as if in the midst of a nightmare. Doubt filled my mind, was my baby really well? Or, had I conjured up that scene? "God, don't let me go off my senses," I begged.

I called out to my God

Early in the morning when my wife started having contractions way ahead of her due date. A premature baby! I realized then that I had to miss work. Since I had just hired a new assistant controller, I immediately called him at home and instructed him to review the multi-million dollar payroll, transfer funds to cover it, check the protective collar or puts and calls I had on the investment portfolio, and other tasks that I normally handled. In my arrogance and hubris, I feared my department would collapse during my absence. Needlessly I overwhelmed the poor man, as I snapped commands.

Little faith I placed back then on the abilities of other people. Now, as I watched the hospital staff work as a team in seamless effort, it dawned on me that people care and they take pride in their assigned chores. Shame filled my mind.

Within minutes, the obstetrician and the nurses returned and explained to us that the umbilical cord had twisted and knotted around the baby's neck and cut off the oxygen, and that they would have to keep her in the sixth floor for a few days. And though she was "a little blue," she didn't fall into the category of 'Blue Babies Syndrome," since these babies are born with a congenital heart defect.

As I listened, my heart was bursting with joy. Yet a voice of reason held me, for I wanted to yell my thanks to the heavens. The word Hosanna came to my mind, but I wasn't sure what it meant; so I kept quiet, enjoying the warmth, the ecstasy of triumph of life over death.

From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came to his ears.

With the doctor's permission, I was allowed to return to the sixth floor to see my daughter. Only the nurses are allowed near the incubators, so I had to content myself with watching Heather through the glass windows. The giant black male nurse walked in with a "pree-mee" --kicking and screaming-- on the palm of his wide hand, and as he placed the loudhailer pree-mee in the incubator, the giant smiled at me. The man's name tag read, "Samuel Moseley."

Pointing at my baby I could see that he had twisted a piece of pink ribbon into a tiny bow and scotch-taped it on top of Heather's head. I gave the man a thumbs up as I mouthed through the window: "Thanks, Samuel."

What follows next is something I have never confided to anyone, but it's high time that I share my experience.

When I walked into my wife's room the next day, I felt a little silly carrying a bouquet of flowers, for flowers were all over the place. Some friends were already there, and well-wishers kept the telephone ringing. After a while I excused myself and ran to the sixth floor to see my baby and to give Samuel a box of chocolates. But Samuel was nowhere to be seen.

I ran to the reception station and asked the attendants to give the box of chocolates to Samuel later when he came in. The nurses looked at each other. "There's no Sam or Samuel-or male nurses on this floor," one of them said. "You must be confused," the other nurse added, "maybe in another building or floor."

The loud beeps from the microwave and the clinking and clanking of dishes drew my out of my reverie. "Dad?" I heard Heather say. "I'm thinking about applying to law school--do you think I'm ready, or am I too premature?"
The writing techniques I employ in this article are all explained in Mary Duffy's writing manual:

Sentence Openers


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Comments on "Premature and Blue Babies Get Divine Protection"

 

Anonymous adrian said ... (October 5, 2009 at 1:12 AM) : 

Are you serious? Is this story true? Powerful story, either way.

 

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Professor Guerrero's Blog

Co-author of East of Tiffany's, 13 short stories that will warm your heart - See 101 reviews in Amazon.com and 37 in Barnes and Noble.

on KINDLE on NOOK

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