In Defense of Helen Thomas

I've been very upset about the whole Helen Thomas "scandal," but didn't have a moment to blog about it until now. I should probably start with a disclaimer:

1. I am not antisemitic. I don't have a problem with Jewish people. I think they have a very interesting, wonderful history and are generally fun, educated, tolerant people. Yay Jews!

2. I am anit-Israel. I don't think it's ok for outside governments to tell a country "we're taking this chunk of your land away because god said that the Jews could have it.

3. The whole concept of a holy land is ridiculous. First of all, if god was going to give his "chosen people" something like that, why would he choose a dirt strip where nothing grows and your worst enemies have been for thousands of years? Poor planning.

Now, on to Helen Thomas.On May 27, 2010, outside the Jewish Heritage Celebration Day event at the White House, the following exchange took place between Thomas and Rabbi David Nesenoff:

Nesenoff: Any comments on Israel? We're asking everybody today, any comments on Israel? Thomas: Tell them to get the hell out of Palestine.
Nesenoff: Oooh. Any better comments on Israel?
Thomas: Remember, these people are occupied and it's their land. It's not German, it's not Poland ...
Nesenoff: So where should they go, what should they do?
Thomas: They go home.
Nesenoff: Where's the home?
Thomas: Poland. Germany.
Nesenoff: So you're saying the Jews go back to Poland and Germany?
Thomas: And America and everywhere else. (emphasis mine) Why push people out of there who have lived there for centuries? See?

 There was a big stink following this interaction, and Helen Thomas was forced to resign in shame. For saying something that isn't only TRUE, it's not scandalous at all!! Palestine -is- occupied! The people doing the occupation -are- largely from Poland and Germany and the US! The allegations are that by saying Germany and Poland, Thomas implied something about concentration camps. That just leaves a big fat question mark over my head. She didn't say anything wrong. And yeah, her retirement was probably well overdue, but her long career shouldn't be marked by something like this. Particularly because she was right.

Saying that Israel is a valid country is like saying that if Mexico showed up, took over the Texas panhandle and said "this is Mexico now" we'd say that's perfectly acceptable. There was a huge war over this. "Remember the Alamo" anyone? I'm angry that nobody took a second to think about her comments logically, and mad that saying that if you don't support Israel in this country is a death sentence politically and socially and the whole thing just makes me sick.

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Not a Fish Tale

Well before Disney’s version of The Little Mermaid thrilled little girls the world over, I wanted to be a mermaid. Some of my earliest memories involve my cousin, Jenny, and I tying our legs together and writhing around on my grandmother’s kitchen floor, otherwise known as “under the sea.” Later, my girlfriends and I spent our time in the pool hanging onto other friends or, occasionally, my dad, pretending that they were our dolphins, and we, of course, were lovely mermaids. One of the most disappointing moments of my childhood was when my father (or more likely, my mother) refused to purchase the seashell necklace for me that would surely give authenticity to my play. I can’t even enter that store without remembering the pendant and wondering if the $2 that it cost was really worth the grief that it instilled in 6 year old Susan.

Twenty-something years later, I’m still (in spite of a near-paralyzing fear of fish and all things aquatic) a big fan of mermaid tales, favoring Hans Christian Andersen’s lovely, tragic version above all others (Disney will do in a pinch). My favorite part of the story has always been the moment that the mermaid becomes fully human. I love the first seconds of realizing her heart’s desire, no matter what the outcome might be (good for Disney’s Ariel, bad for HCA’s unnamed heroine). In that moment, all the mermaid’s wishes have come true. I can only imagine the sense of fear and elation that she must feel. I want that feeling. I want to know what it feels like, taking a deep breath and diving headfirst into the life that I’ve dreamed of, hoping for a good outcome, but not afraid of a bad one. John Burroughs said “leap and the net will appear.” I hope he was right.

It may take some time, but changes are coming.

Proof!

This is my new favorite photo. It also serves as proof that I don't always fall down.

Things are still stressful here, but they're getting better.

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Bad Days

I should have known it was going to be a bad day when I woke up with a tick on my arm. I believe in signs and superstition and luck, and recently, my luck has been a bit on the bad side. I'm not exactly sure what it is in my karmic past that's causing all these disasters, but it must have been a doozy.

After getting dressed, I opened the door to leave for work (late), to find an eviction notice from the landlord (if rent isn't paid by Friday), and a disconnect notice from the gas company (if the gas wasn't paid before 8am, today.) As I drove to work, the road was littered with a slew of roadkill, including a gigantic snake. Another bad sign. Great. Work is kind of my safe haven, and I'm not used to dreading it, but with the bloody highway, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. The bad didn't disappoint. We had a terribly sad case last night (which I can't discuss here. HIPPA, you know). We were completely out of charts, on every unit, so I wasn't able to be as productive as I like to be. And there was a terrible, vinegar smell, coming from somewhere, which we couldn't find to get rid of. Also, my scrubs smelled like gasoline and something that I ate for dinner was so hot (spice, not temperature) that it left burns/blisters on the inside of my lips and under my tongue. I suppose I should count myself lucky that the heat didn't ignite my gasoliney scrubs.
 Justin called to tell me that his truck has stopped working and that he sold his Xbox to pay the gas bill and for gas/grocery money. That still leaves the rent (and potential car repairs). Tomorrow I have a meeting with the Covenant Compassion woman to fill out the paperwork for a loan to cover our rent. Everything -will be- ok, but right now, it feels very tense.

It's not all bad, despite appearances. Justin got a grant to cover his summer class, which was one of our biggest stresses. We have electricity and water and food, which are the important things. Justin's going to get a summer job at UMC, and hopefully that will help our situation.

Anyway, that's where we are now.

"How I Was Brought Up"

I was talking to a friend, a few weeks ago and I asked her why she felt a certain way about something (I can't remember what now) and she said "that's just the way I was brought up." I've been thinking about that answer for a a long time, and I still can't really wrap my head around it. Why would someone choose to think or feel or believe something just because that's what their parents believed? A couple of generations ago, children in Germany were brought up to believe that it was ok to kill Jews and blacks and Gypsies and homosexuals. That sentiment didn't stick around long (mostly). Generations before them were brought up to believe that the best way to cure an illness, any illness, was to cut the sick open and let them "bleed it out." Now we know that that almost never works!
There is new knowledge released into the world every day. To ignore that, and continue a belief system simply because it's the way it's always been done in your family or town or state or country is ludicrous. Not that there's anything wrong with her family. They are really great people, and I fully believe that they raised their children very well. There wasn't anything inherently wrong with whatever it was that she thought either.
It's just that I think people should come to decisions about who they are on their own, as opposed to blindly following tradition.
My friend isn't the only person I've heard say that particular phrase recently. "It's how I was brought up" seems to be the mantra for this area, and probably for most of the world (which, I suspect, is why we're in trouble all the time). Something else I heard recently was (basically) "I don't care what the truth is, I choose to believe this instead." What the hell is that? Why would you choose to continue to believe a fiction, even after you've been presented with the truth? Particularly when it's about something that's easy to prove (as opposed to the cloudy world of religion and politics)? It's very confusing to me, and it bothers me more than it probably should. I'm not entirely sure why I felt compelled to write about it, except that it's been poking me in the brain for weeks now, and perhaps this is a way to get it to stop.

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Twenty-nine

Today I'm 29 years old, and for the first time in my life, I think I know who I am, I think I know what I want, and I think I know where home is. This is going to be a good year.

Treat Theif

When we go to the grocery store, I usually try to get a treat for myself and a treat for Justin. This is usually in the form of an ice cream snack. Dove bars or 100 calorie Klondikes for me, Drumsticks for Justin. Regardless of what the actual treat is, we each get our own. I am not a food sharer.

I'm very frugal with my treats, and can make a box of 8 Dove bars last a month or sometimes 2. (Occasionally I forget about them. When that happens, they could last half a year.)At least that used to be the case. Justin barely manages to make his treats last a week. Sometimes they don't even survive the weekend. And then he moves on to MY treats!! He doesn't ask, either. He sneaks them and eats them while I'm sleeping or at work. THEN, he does the unforgivable: he leaves the empty treat box in the freezer, so that when I get a craving for frozen deliciousness, I have to discover that the appetizing box is really just an empty promise.

I'm very upset about this. Disproportionately so, but it seems so unfair! We're not roommates, we're married! I shouldn't have to label my food, and lock it up to avoid thievery. Any ideas for appropriate punishment?

Implanon: 2 Months In

This will probably be my last post about this (Aren't you glad?), mostly because I keep forgetting that it's there. Until the underwire in my bra catches on it and makes me scream like a maniac. Other than intermittent bra accidents, I'm still loving this little stick of birth control. As far as I can tell, I haven't had a single weird side effect (no weight gain, no breakouts, no break through bleeding), and I appear to be one of the lucky ones who doesn't have a period anymore pretty much from the word go.Excellent.

However, there is one little problem with not being greeted by Mother Nature once a month: I always freak out when the "due date" gets here, and She does not. Even though I KNOW She's on hiatus for the next 3 years. Even though I KNOW the chances of me actually being pregnant are slim, and closer to NONE. (Justin's crazy clinicals schedule hasn't exactly been kind to our bouncy cuddles schedule. Sorry Beest.)  Still, I freak out. So, I bought a pile of bulk, dr.'s office supply pregnancy tests (Read: no plastic stick, just a test strip. Also: 85 cents a piece. Beat that EPT.), and when I freak out once every 34 days, I do the Try Not to Pee on My Hands Dance. Other than that, everything is peachy.

Ok, now that everyone's been updated with the status of my birth control of choice, I can leave this topic alone. I really wanted to post a few updates about it though, because so many of the reviews online are BAD, while the birth control itself, for me at least, has been really GOOD. I realize that it happens because people are way more likely to post a review of something if they're pissed off about it, and less likely to post when an experience is good. (Because, like me, they forget about it unless there's some crazy drama.) The problem is, that makes it really hard to do research when someone's on the hunt for the thing that's right for them. So here I am, doing my part for Implanon research. -grin-

Before I Die

I found this very cool website. It's in the same vein as PostSecret or Found. The site is Before I Die, the creators traveled around taking Polaroid pictures of people, and asked them to write what they wanted to do before they die on them. Very fun, and sometimes (as with the hospice patients they visited) very sad. Check it out. Also, since I'll probably never run into the girls, I made my own:

XML Problems

Can somebody tell me why the date above my posts says "undefined undefined" instead of the actual date? If anybody knows how to fix this, please let me know. I haven't made any changes to the template.

Thanks!

ETA: Looks like I might have fixed the date issue.

Vegas Vacation Pics

Viva Las Vegas!

I am leaving for Las Vegas in 3 days. In Susan time, that means TOMORROW, because I have to work both Sunday and Monday night before I leave on Tuesday. On days that I work, I have exactly 7 hours to sleep after I get home, before I get up, shower and go back to work, so those days don't count at all.

I'm SUPER excited! (As demonstrated by my liberal use of caps lock.) Today I went shopping with my aunt (and benefactor who is providing this adventure) and got some new stuff, so that's some laundry that I don't need to do, and I've got my bag all packed (except for toiletries). I'm slightly nervous because we're flying Southwest. I'm a fat girl, and the whole Kevin Smith drama has me slightly freaked out. I just flew them in January though, so odds are, things are fine. (Also, did I mention, I went down a jeans size! -happy dance-)

Tomorrow Justin and I are going to try and see Alice in Wonderland and have a little date before he gets sucked into another week of clinicals. After tomorrow I won't see him for more than 10 minutes at a time until I get home. I'm really looking forward to that too (the date, not the absence of Justin). I love to go to movies. That's the update. I won't post again until I'm home from Sin City.



Adios!

Magic

Today I got a tiny bottle of magic wands in the mail.  LOVE.

Implanon: 20 Days In

This post probably isn't for the boys.

I've had the Implanon birth control in my arm for 20 days now. After the first week, I stopped having pain at the insertion site, and wasn't experiencing any side effects. (Except possibly headaches, but I'm attributing those to stress and allergies.) I've been pretty happy with it so far.

Here's what's going on now: I have some nerve pain in my arm, but I can't tell if it's from the implant or from a pinched nerve. I fell last week, and nerves are tricky. It's about 3 inches below where the Implanon rests, and I've had some neuropathy in my left side before (meralgia paresthetica), so it's possible that it's more of the same, just in a different place. I'm going to go to the chiropractor this week and see if that helps. Even if it is a side effect of the Implanon, I assume that eventually that nerve will stop hurting, and it's not excruciating, or anything. I just have to be a little careful.

I'm also having some breakthrough bleeding (3 days now). This is pretty close to the time when I'd be having my period anyway, and it's much lighter than a regular period, so I'm not bothered. Plus, it's proof that, if nothing else, I'm not pregnant, so the implant is doing its job. I knew that in the first 2-3 months I should expect this, and it's not a big deal at all.

Overall: Still happy.

It's a Slow Night

Apparenlty no one was having any sex in June, because we're super slow. So, I stole this from Terroni.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Sleeping late, having enough food, being able to do what I want to on any particular day without worrying about money.

What is your greatest fear?
Losing control.

Which historical figure do you most identify with?
I tend to identify with fictional characters much more than anyone who's ever actually existed.

Which living person do you most admire?
Tommye

Which living person do you most despise?
Currently? Actually, I'm good.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I have too many feelings most of the time. About pretty much everything. Also: Impatience

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Lack of compassion.

What is your greatest extravagance?
Nice lingerie.

What is your favorite journey?
The walk from the airplane to wherever my actual destination is. I like that feeling of anticipation.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Patience. (And definitely chastity.)

On what occasion do you lie?
To give comfort or spare feelings.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
The scars on my belly.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
I find that in my current position, I say the words vagina, vaginal, and vag entirely more than I thought possible.

What is your greatest regret?
When I was 5, I said something really mean to my grandmother. Perhaps I'll post about it sometime.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
Marlowe. (Just kidding. Mostly.)

When and where were you happiest?
I've had a lot of really happy moments, but right now, something about a swingset is lingering in the back of my mind. I can't quite wrap my mind aroud the specific memory though.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Lonliness, helplessness, hopelessness. All the nesses.

What is your current state of mind?
After a small rush, I'm trying to unwind.

Which talent would you most like to have?
I want to be psychic.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I would be more logical, and less emotional. Actually, that's a complete lie. Perhaps I should want to be more honest with myself.

If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?
This is a risky little game...I do wish my dad and mom (in particular) were more tolerant of each other. I mean, it's been 15 years since they divorced. Get over it already. There's no reason to make it awkward for everyone else.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I don't think I've done it yet. I hope not.

What is your most treasured possession?
Right now: My magic wand.

What is it you most dislike?
Itchy scrubs. Insurance companies.

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
A banshee.

If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?
Something with a tail. Do banshees have tails?

Where would you like to live?
Sacramento, Nice, Seattle.

What is your favorite occupation?
I really love what I'm doing right now, but I think I want to be an OR tech. (Actually, I'd like to be a doctor or a nurse practicioner, but I'm scared of that much school.)

What is your most marked characteristic?
I'm a bit of an anger-ball.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
I like smart men and brave men and men with nice hands.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Compassion, cleverness and the ablilty to cook better than me. (Which is pretty much everybody.

What do you most value in your friends?
My friends are smart, funny, and kind. They're also clever, mean (in the best possible way), and snarky. What's not to love?
Who are your favorite writers?
David Sedaris, Virginia Woolf, Augusten Burroghs, Colette.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Orpheus

Who are your heroes in real life?
Margaret Thatcher, James D. Watson, my dad.

What are your favorite names?
Nora, Delia, Horatio, Tomas, Luc, Rachel, Declan.

How would you like to die?
With as little drama as possible.

What is your motto?
Just because you can reproduce, doesn't mean you should.

Happy Valentine's Day

Implanon Day 2

So, after all the local anesthetic wore off last night, I had considerably more pain that I did when I wrote my previous post. The pain wasn't outrageous or anything, just occasionally sharp, like, whenever I moved. Or lifted anything. Or my arm brushed my body. So yeah, lots of ouches. Luckily I had some Darvocet leftover from my gall bladder surgery, so I took one of those, and it was fine after that (and I didn't have to take any more). I left the bandage on, as instructed, for 24 hours, and when I took it off, my arm looked like this:

It's a pretty big bruise, but not as bad as some of the ones I've seen. The yellow around the outside is betadine, not bruise, so it's not even as bad as it looks. See the teeny hole towards the top? That's where the implant went in. 

Without the pressure of the wrap, it's a little more tender, and at the far end (towards my armpit) it feels like the rod is too close to the surface, and it hurts like it's going to pop through the skin at any moment. I don't think there's any actual danger of that happening though. After a few days a little bit of a callous will develop in there and it will stop feeling like there's a piece of glass in my arm.

Here's where I'll share too much information, so if you're my dad, or some other guy who's uncomfortable with girly business, stop reading now.

Usually in the first 3 months of using Implanon, women have heavier periods, and lots of weird breakthrough bleeding and stuff, and so I was expecting that. The thing is though, I started my period on Wednesday (it has to be inserted during that time of the month), I got the implant yesterday, and today, my period is pretty much over, the same way it would have been had I inserted a new NuvaRing. I'm taking this as an excellent sign. There's still a chance that I'll have the ugliness, but since the hormone is the same as the primary hormone in my ring was, I think my transition will be easier than it is for people who were either not on any birth control at all or were using some other hormonal method when they switched. This is promising, and in spite of the pain, I'm still excited about this thing.

About That Huge Needle...

 I had my appointment today to get the Implanon put into my arm. I was super stressed out to begin with, and so I left the house a little (read: a lot) early. On the way there, the nurse called and told me that my insurance (Catholic, determined to provide the bare minimum birth control that they can get away with in the hopes that they can one day pay for a pregnancy/labor & delivery.) requires a note from my primary care physician saying that the implant is "medically necessary" which, of course, strictly speaking, it isn't. But I wanted it and I DO NOT want to get pregnant, ever, and so I headed over to my PCP. (I called first to tell them what I wanted, I'm not a rude patient.) My PCP doesn't specialize in contraception and so he wasn't really comfortable with the possible liability of suggesting the Implanon for me, so after some discussion, he wrote a prescription, essentially saying that he's leaving my contraceptive needs up to my OB/Gyn. After that, I was running late, which stressed me out even more than I was to begin with. I got up to the office, filled out some paperwork, waited for my aunt (who was coming to hold my hand) to get there and then it was *time.*

My pulse and blood pressure clearly showed my nerves, but I was determined. The nurse prepped me with betadine, and eventually, Dr. K came in. He asked me why this is what I wanted, and I told him my reasons, (ie: NO BABIES EVER) and he was all "oh, we'll have to get a baby out of you eventually!" Not exactly what I want to hear while someone is supposed to be doing a procedure to prevent just that, but whatever, I really like Dr.K and I'm pretty sure he was just kidding.

Time to get down to business. I was mostly scared of the lidocaine local anesthetic, since lidocaine tends to burn, and you know, needle in my tender spot,  but it didn't hurt at all. There was just a tiny pinch, even smaller than the prick you'd get from the flu shot, and then a slight burn, but nothing too serious, and then weird numb feeling. After that, I didn't feel anything. I saw the (giant) needle with the rod in it, but  I couldn't really see the procedure (and the nurse told me to look away, anyway). It felt, just for a minute while they were getting the rod settled a little...I don't know exactly, itchy maybe? I couldn't get anyone to take a picture, so sorry.

Anyway, it was totally not a big deal, and I'm not even having any real pain now, just a little bruising and tenderness. I think I'm going to love this thing. Yay!

Eeep!

Thursday I'm going to have Implanon inserted into my arm for birth control. It looks like this:

It has a super low failure rate, lasts for three years, and is considerably cheaper than my current method (Nuva Ring). Don't get me wrong, I've really loved the ring for the past 3 or 4 years, and I think it's an excellent method, but since I don't ever plan on having children, I want something long term, and more cost effective. I'm getting an excellent deal, because my OB/Gyn is only charging an office co-pay for the procedure, but usually the Implanon costs between $500 and $800. Most insurance (including mine) covers it at 80% so even at the high end that would just have been  $160. The cost of the Nuva Ring over 3 years (with insurance) would have been $1980. (Woah. That's the first time I've done the actual math for that.) At the end of three years (assuming that there's not some terrible side effect, and I have it removed before the time is up) I'll be over 30 and officially able to get a tubal ligation. Whee!

The thing is, it goes in like this:

Why yes, that is the most tender, untouched part of anyone's body, otherwise known as the upper, inner arm. And yes, that is a huge needle. Yikes, right? So, after a few dizzy spells and reassurances that there will be a local anesthetic (which will hurt just as much, I'm sure...not thinking about it), and after watching a fully non-traumatic video of someone else's insertion, I got comfortable with that. But -then- I watched a video of them taking one out, and that was, lets just say, far more traumatic. Go ahead, YouTube it, I'll wait.

Done...? Recovered? Good. Now I feel like I have too much information, and I'm freaking out a little. I still want the birth control though, so I'm putting it out of my mind. Three years is a long time from now...maybe I'll forget about the image of the guy digging around in the girl's tender inner-arm with a hemostat. Yeah...that.

I wanted Justin to go with me and take pictures, but he has class all day on Thursday, so I'm on my own. I'll take pics of the bruising (if there is any) and write a full report when it's over with. Wish me luck!

Plumbing Problems

Saturday night all the sinks, tubs and toilets in our house started filling up with sewage. In Justin's bathroom, the things actually overflowed onto the floor, and it was a horrible, horrible night. We had to go next door to my parents' house for everything water-related, and we're just lucky that they lived close enough for us to do that. The landlord sent a plumber out on Sunday, but they weren't able to finish, so they sent someone out again on Monday, and they left before I got up for work, so I'm assuming that they're done. I hope so. We've had plumbing problems in this house before, but never something so extreme. It was like being in one of those cheesy old horror movies in which the monster comes out of the toilet. I'm a bit wary, even now, going into the bathroom without turning on the light first. The good news is that I hadn't finished unpacking my suitcase from my recent trip to California, so it had not resumed it's normal place in my bathroom shower (which we use for storage). There would be no salvaging it had it been in there, soaking in sludge.

I just realized that this is a terrible post. Whatever, I'm posting it anyway.

What Happens in Vegas...

I found out yesterday that I'll be joining my aunt and siblings in Las Vegas March 9-13. We'll be staying at the Mirage and doing lots of fun stuff. It was a total surprise, and I'm SUPER excited! It's also an excellent opportunity to try and accomplish one of my Life List goals: win a hand of blackjack in Vegas. We'll see how that goes. As for non-gambling fun, we're seeing Terry Fator, Lance Burton, a taping of The Price is Right, going to Madam Tussaud's, and whatever else we have time to get up to. It's going to be EXCELLENT.

Yes, I'm aware of how many times I've used caps-lock in this post, and I don't even care.

Whee!

Life List: Visit the Winchester House

You may remember the life list that posted a few months ago. I've (slowly) been working my way through it, and one of my new year's resolutions was to tackle a few of the things on the list. One of the things on the list was a visit to the Winchester Mansion in San Jose, CA, and, with the help of my dear friends, I'm able to scratch that off this week. If you're not familiar with the Winchester house, it was built (and built, and built) by Sarah Winchester in the 38 years following the deaths of her daughter and husband. She believed that she was being haunted by the spirits of the people who'd been killed by Winchester rifles, and to appease them, she could never stop construction on the house. (Spirits have strange demands.) There are 160 rooms in the house, many of which contain freaky little things, like doors that open into walls, and staircases that go to the ceiling (and nowhere else.) The house itself, in spite of the weird additions, is truly beautiful, and it's almost a shame that it's not being used for anything other than tourism. I kind of want to live there. They wouldn't let us take cameras inside, so I don't have any pictures. but their website has plenty to give you an idea of what it was like. As an added bonus, San Jose was a fun town, and we had a good dinner and really amazing desserts after the tour.

All together my trip was great, it was -really- good to see my friends, and for the first time I realize how awesome it is to be able to use 3 vacation days and get a full 11 days off. Excellent .

Resolutions

This year my resolution is to work on my Life List. Not all the things on it are achievable this year, and I know that, but these are the ones I'm resolved to get done. I have 359 days to do these things. I think I can work with that.

1. Crochet an afghan

2. Learn to make my Nan's cherry cobbler

3. Learn to make margaritas from scratch

4. Personalize my own nail polish color (And you can too! Here. You're welcome.)

5. Purchase designer sunglasses. ( I actually did this today. Prescription and everything!)

6. Avoid losing designer sunglasses.

Merry Christmas

"Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you, to remember the weakness and loneliness of people who are growing old? Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world, stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death? Then you can keep Christmas! But you can never keep it alone."

 -Henry Van Dyke

White Christmas Eve

It's snowing like crazy this morning. (This...middle of the night?) Kind of a bummer because I wanted to go to Lubbock tomorrow to catch up on some last minute Christmas shopping. Maybe it will have melted off enough by the time I wake up to make it an easy trip. Even if it doesn't, the hassle is kind of worth it for these pictures:

 

I love the way dogs react to snow after they haven't really seen it for a year (or ever, in Marlowe's case.) Fun.

Longest Night

Solstice. Tonight is the first official night of winter, and the longest night of the year. It is also the night that is set aside to remember those for whom the holiday season is not the happiest time. In the extra hours of darkness tonight, take some time to think about, say a prayer, light a candle, whatever it is that you do, for those who are struggling with something right now. It's a night to remember those who have lost a loved one, who are living with mental illness, who are without a home, or anyone who is struggling. This has been a difficult year for many people out there, let's not allow them to get lost in the bustle.

Done!

Here's the last picture taken of me with all my internal organs:

Justin took me to the surgery center yesterday afternoon. I was super terrified. We were early and so sat around with my dad, siblings and aunt for about an hour before they called me back. You know, just so that I could build up the nerves a bit more. My terror was fully reflected in my blood pressure reading of 163/116, (the previous week in the office it was something like 112/60)  which prompted them to take an EKG. Everything looked fine, and so we moved on. It is possible, that my blood pressure was so high because they took it shortly after starting this, the most painful IV EVER:

That picture was actually taken -after- surgery, so I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, after my blood pressure came down to that of a semi-normal person they let me hang out with a saline drip for awhile so that I 'd be hydrated before surgery. (I hadn't had anything to drink in about 10 hours at this point.) Then they kicked my aunt (who was such a huge support throughout this, I cannot even begin to imagine where I'd be if she hadn't been in there.) out of the room, gave me a dose of Versed (otherwise known as "I don't care serum" and wheeled me into surgery. The last thing I clearly remember is moving from my gurney onto the surgery table, and worrying about how much of my butt the OR tech guy just saw. Then I was out.

This is what everyone else in the room was seeing:

Yes, those are my insides, looking like burnt meat...which is, I guess, what they are. The gallbladder is all white like that because Dr. Howe cut off it's blood supply. Isn't my liver lovely and pink? Please ignore the large mass of yellow fat.

What seemed like about 3 minutes (but was really nearly 2 hours) later, I was waking up back in my recovery room. I don't really remember any pain at that point, except that my bladder felt like it was absolutely going to burst. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I need to pee. (probably more like AHneepee)

Dr. Coleman :You can't stand up yet.

Me: I REALLY need to pee. (REALNEPE)

Dr.Coleman: In a minute!

Me: My back hurts. (beeeheh)

Dr. Try scooting up on the bed.

(Apparently anesthesiologists are fluent in the language of post anesthesia garble.) My mouth was filled with lidocaine jelly from the tube that was down my throat during surgery, which didn't help any in the enunciation department.

They made me scoot up on the bed (very difficult) and I suppose at that point, determined that I could use my legs. Dr. Coleman and someone...a nurse? OR tech? I have no idea, helped me to the bathroom, which is when I realized that I was in a lot of pain. I also realized that I looked like hell:

And that my mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with a stick of deodorant. Which is why in that picture I'm drinking what could possibly be the worst Diet Sprite in the world. A few minutes later my family came back in to see me. I'm a little foggy about everything that happened right around then, but I was glad to see them, and happy that it was over with and extremely happy that I still had morphine running around inside me. Justin helped me get dressed, which is when I saw my incisions for the first time. They look like this:

There's also one just at the bottom of my belly button, but I couldn't see that one until later because of the swelling. There's a little hernia behind it, so they had to go in at a different place than usual, but whatever. Now, the tiny hole on the left up there is bleeding and gross, but no one seems to think it's anything serious.

I also finally got to look at the rocks that I've been growing inside me:

I'm kind of proud that they're so uniform in size and shape. If you're going to have gallstones, they might as well be attractive ones, right? So, that was that. Last night I had a weird reaction to my Vicodin, which not only made quite the chatty Cathy, it made me itch all over. Causing me to scratch open one of my glued together incisions. I've switched to a different pain pill, so hopefully that won't happen again tonight. So far the Darvocet has just made me sleepy. I was in and out of the car frequently today, and I'm having kind of a lot of pain. I also have some mysterious bruises on the back of my left arm the shape of fingerprints, which I can only assume are from them moving me back to my gurney from the OR table. I have no memory of that little switch, which is probably for the best. The number of people who potentially saw my butt right then must have grown dramatically. I'm not sure why I wasn't allowed to wear my panties, nothing was going on below the waist, but whatever. And that's the end of that. I feel lucky that I'm not having any of the pain that's normally associated with being blown up like a balloon for surgery. There doesn't seem to be any leftover gas floating around inside me, and all the pain is right around the incisions and deep inside me, where my barbecued guts are. Apparently it could be much worse. I'll be going back to work on Sunday.

10

It's only 10 hours until my surgery. (It would have been shorter, but they scheduled it for 1pm, who does that??) I -know- that it's not a big deal. And I -know- it will be over in a hurry and that I'll feel better (in about a week), and I -know- that I'm stressing out over nothing. But I'm still freaking out. I've never had anything invasive done before and while I'm really interested in invasive procedures, it's not as much fun when it's my body they're digging around in.

4 Days

On Tuesday when I knew that my surgery was 8 days away, that sounded like a long time. On Wednesday "one week" still sounded a long way away. But now it's only FOUR days, and that sounds much too soon. Especially since I'll be working for the next 3 days and work days always -fly- by. Stress level: 5.

Christmas Sweaters & Pap Smears

I made the dogs Christmas sweaters. It's been really cold here, and Maybe, especially, has been shivery since we had to shave part of her hair to treat eczema.. Marlowe is always shivery since he's got such short hair. Anyway, I think they like them.

You can't really tell in the picture, but they're kind of a dark blue-green and shiny! They're also super soft. I feel crafty. -grin-

Moving on, has anyone else seen this stupid  commercial from CBS Cares, suggesting that, as a Christmas gift (there's actually a Hanukkah version too), husbands should schedule pap smears for their wives?



Whose idea was that? I'm pretty sure that if I received a pap smear for Christmas, from anyone besides my OB/Gyn, they would be in a world of hurt. I'm also positive that I'm not the only girl who feels this way, so to all the significant others out there wondering about the perfect gift, go for anything but a cold speculum and an exam room.

Giggle

I'm not super into babies, but I don't see that there's any possible way to watch this video without laughing.It's my absolute favorite thing right now.

It's Official

I saw the surgeon (Dr. Howe) today, and it's official, my gallbladder will be sucked out next Wednesday, December 16. So that's um...about one week, 7 hours and 20 minutes (give or take) from right now. Yay? I'm nervous, but I know I'll feel better and it will be good for it all to be over with in any case. Plus, I heard a rumor that I'll get a video of the surgery. Sort of like a gift with purchase, who can resist that?

Also, since I might miss my (horrible) gallbladder, I think I'd like one of these cute plush ones. Except that I'm bothered by the fact that it's purple and not green...hmm. (That website has lots of stuffed organs by the way, if, you know, you're just dying to own a cuddly pancreas.)

Taco Saturday

Justin gets the credit for this one. I found the recipe, but he did all the work. He says it was really easy, and so it must be. Please excuse the bite taken out of the taco in this picture. I couldn't resist for long enough to get Justin to bring the camera.

Crock Pot Chicken Tacos:

1 bag frozen corn (I used the kind that has both white and yellow kernels, mostly because it's pretty.)
1 can black beans (drained and rinsed)
3-4 frozen boneless, skinless chicken breasts (depending on how many people you want to feed and whether you want leftovers.)
About 1 cup of salsa (Whatever brand you prefer, I used medium heat Pace, you can also use more or less depending on your taste.)
Taco shells (obviously)
A palmful of taco seasoning.(Again, however much you like.)

Put the chicken, corn, beans, taco seasoning and salsa in the crock pot on low heat. There's no need to stir anything at this point. Just stack it up and turn it on.

In about an hour, stir everything up.
Leave the mixture in the crock pot on low heat for about 5 hours.
Check the chicken. If it's done, use a fork to shred it up, stir everything around and put it into heated taco shells.

Justin ate his with Mexican blend cheese, but I don't like cheese on my tacos. These were AMAZING. Much better than I even expected. It was nice to wake up to dinner already done. The house smelled amazing, and I think they're generally pretty figure friendly, for tacos.

The Thermostat Wars

It's winter. We can all agree that we're officially into December, there has been snow on the ground and candy canes are readily available on the shelves at the supermarket. WINTER. It being winter, one has to acknowledge that the previous summer levels for the central heat/air are no longer applicable. Especially when there are LARGE windows in the house letting the winter air and SNOW in. It is officially time to turn on the heater.

My dear husband (who is, at this very moment, decreasing his core body temperature even further by eating ICE CREAM)  doesn't see it that way. He thinks that 60 degrees is a perfectly reasonable temperature to keep the thermostat on all the time. Even when it being set that low keeps the heater from kicking on. My toes are blue, people.

So here's the scenario: I come in from work at the coldest possible time, just before dawn. I am freezing. My breasts are ON FIRE from the cold and I'm shivering and tired. I see the thermostat set on something like "Antarctica" and so I turn it to a reasonable temperature (70) before crawling into bed, in layers of clothing and socks. Justin gets up, sees the reasonable temperature on the thermostat and immediately breaks into a sweat. He's melting...MELTING!! He turns the heater back down to freezing. By this time I'm super drugged and sleeping under a gigantic pile of blankets, pillows and pajamas so I don't notice. When I get up, it's FREEZING again, and we have to have a fight about his ridiculous expectations for the temperature in the house. I maintain that if I'm wearing layers and layers of clothing, am wrapped up in a blanket and still have blue fingers that the heat should be on. One shouldn't have to wear gloves in their own home.  He says it should never, under any circumstances be on and I'm a weenie. So yeah, that's been the weekend.

Couldn't Resist

How cute are my nieces and nephews? So sweet it makes my teeth hurt.

Rocky Road

Ok, so apparently everyone thinks my gallbladder could possibly rupture, (bad!) so we're moving more quickly that I really wanted to on this surgery thing. Today I went for my "official" (apparently it's only official if it costs money) ultrasound and this is what we saw:No, that isn't actually my gallbladder, but it looked -exactly- like that. The radiology tech (who was very unpleasant) wouldn't print me off a picture. I'm going to try and get a picture of my actual gallbladder scan from my doctor tomorrow. He's a much nicer person than Veronica or whatever her name was. (It's almost certainly not Veronica. Unless I have some previously undiscovered psychic abilities.) In any case, we're looking at December 9 or the 16. I want to do it on a Wednesday so that I don't have to miss much (if any) work. It'll be nice to have it all over with before Christmas, anyway.

So that's the plan. I'll post more when I know more.

Pumpkin Pi

You know you're laughing.

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Doo De Doo

Yes, I know it's been 2 weeks. I just haven't really had that much to say. After crashing, hard, from depression for a couple of weeks, I finally got brave enough to talk to my doctor about it and get some help. I'm feeling much better, better than I have in a very long time, actually, so that's good. I feel stable and  energized and like I can cope with everything appropriately again, and it's been years since I felt like that. Once again, Dr. Landry saves the day.

 It was super important to me to take something that a) wouldn't turn me into a zombie and b) had minimal side effects. I think we've found that with Pristiq. The only real side effect I'm having right now is freakishly dilated pupils, and they (they being the internet and Dr. L) tell me that it will stop pretty soon. Another side effect is that I've been having pretty crippling cramps in my legs and arms for a couple of days. I just assumed that I was dehydrated (since I'm almost always dehydrated). Nope. Apparently the Pristiq lowers the amount of potassium in my blood. Most people don't even notice that, but my new asthma inhaler (Symbicort) also lowers potassium, so I've been hit with a double whammy. Luckily, potassium is cheap, and that's an easy problem to fix. A small price to pay for sanity and the full use of my lungs.

I'm leaving in the morning (Ok, noon, but that's early for me.) for a quick trip to the Dallas area. That should be fun, and then on Saturday we're having "Thanksgiving" at my dad's house. They want me to make my super-yummy-delicious-twice-baked potatoes, but I really don't think about white potatoes being a holiday food. -wrinkles nose- I asked my dad if I could do sweet potatoes instead and  he seemed to be happy with that, as long as there are marshmallows on them. Well, duh. For actual Thanksgiving, I think we're going to Amarillo/Panhandle to see Justin's family, but no promises. It really depends on how our finances are, whether there's ice on the road and how well Justin thinks the car will do on a semi-lengthy trip.

The Swine Flu & Other Stuff

I got my H1N1 vaccine yesterday. I haven't noticed any real side effects, except that the injection site is slightly swollen and itchy (still) and I've had a pretty persistent headache since just after I got it. So, not too bad. No fever, no aches, no oinking. Excellent. If you can, get vaccinated. (Although I wouldn't recommend the inhaled nasal vaccine, because it's a live virus, and if you're sick or immunocompromised at all, you'll regret it.)

I'm mad at my OB/Gyn because he allowed one of his patients to be treated very badly by an anesthesiologist last week. This is not okay with me, under any circumstances, but especially these specific circumstances. I'm pretty sure I'm going to fire him over this. So, there's that.

I've decided to wait to have gallbladder taken out until summertime. There are a few reasons for this:
 1. I'm scared, and a big believer in procrastination in the face of fear.

2. I might be uncomfortable (all the time) or even in a lot (LOT) of pain (occasionally), but it's not going to kill me (almost certainly). And while the surgery itself can be covered by payroll deduction, the ultrasound is going to cost me $100 (plus $100 deductible) and I'd rather not spend that $200 on something that's intangible right now. There are other things that I want/need in the near future.
3. If I have surgery now (or in the next couple of weeks), Justin will be in school a) the day that I have the surgery and b) most of the days when I'm recovering. I'm not interested in having (minor, but still painful) surgery at a time when he a) won't be able to take care of me, b) won't be available to drive me to/from the surgery center, and c) doesn't need all the extra stress of my surgery when he should be worrying about school.

Moving on, Justin is doing very well in school. He's actually taken care of real patients at this point. He's officially allowed to give people drugs now. The whole thing is very stressful for him, but I think it's going to get (at least temporarily) better for awhile.

This -n- That

I'm posting primarily to distract myself so that I don't buy new jeans and a sweater dress over at OldNavy.com. We'll see if it works.

1. You may remember that about six weeks ago Justin and I got new glasses. It has not worked out well. After wearing mine for less than a month, I left them at home, safe on the coffee table, one night when I went to work. When I spoke to Justin later that evening he told me they were broken. Not just a little broken either, completely irreparable. The metal stem that holds the earpiece on has been twisted off. We have no idea how it happened, but I suspect the cats are to blame. (Aren't they always?) In any case, I was able to glue the earpiece on, which works when I'm wearing them, but they can't be closed to fit into a case. This worked for about 2 days, until, one night at work, I was watching TV in the breakroom when a montage of ankle rolling came on. (Why!?) There is nothing that freaks me out more than ankle rolling, so I reflexively threw my hands up to cover my face, breaking the newly mended glasses. -sigh- Back to EyeMasters it is.

2. We've been invited to a Halloween party on Friday. It kind of sucks, because I'm super excited about the party (whee!), but before I received the invitation I agreed to work a 12 hour (ugh) daytime (double ugh) shift that day. Suck, suck, suck. I'm going to put it in writing, right now: I will NOT take any more day shifts. It's too hard to switch my sleep schedule back and forth and it takes a full week for me to feel rested again. It also irritates Justin. On top of my work, Justin has clinicals that day for school, and I'm not really sure how he's going to get there, I'm going to get to work, and we're going to meet up for the party. But we -are- going damnit, end of story.

3. I found out that the deductible on my insurance is less than I thought it was, and that the hospital will do payroll deduction for medical bills (something like $25 per check) and so I'm going to try and have my gallbladder out before Christmas. It's just getting worse, I'm sick all the time, and, thanks to the nice ultrasound guy, I have seen with my own eyes that there are a whole pile of stones in there. I'm scared about having surgery, but excited about the possibility of feeling better.

4. The new inhaler I got from Dr. Landry last month is not working. It's also having the same side effect as the old one (chest congestion), and my insurance doesn't cover it. I'm going to have to call and ask for something else. This is mostly a reminder for me to do that, because I keep forgetting.

So, what's going on with you this week?

Oh YUM.

Not to brag (well, maybe a little), but I made the -best- dinner tonight. The full, original recipe can be found here, gotta love that Pioneer Woman. So here's the breakdown, for those of you who don't follow links:

1 small bag of Irish potatoes. (This is about 15 or 20 little potatoes.)
4 large heads of garlic.
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/3 cup semi-dry white wine
Kosher salt
Black pepper

Quarter the potatoes, and cut the ends off the garlic, to expose all the cloves. Arrange them around the pan and drizzle with the olive oil and wine. Take extra care to coat the top of the garlic cloves. Kosher salt and pepper to taste. (I also used a little seasoned salt.)

Toss to coat.

Cover tightly with tin foil and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.

Uncover and bake for 20 minutes.

Broil on 500 for about 5 minutes.

This is when the "official" recipe ends. But here's what I did to make it a full meal:

During the last 10 minutes of cook time, I shredded up a rotisserie chicken (into large pieces), then when the potatoes and garlic came out of the oven, I mixed them with the shredded chicken. You will have to (of course) remove the roasted garlic cloves from the papery skin, and take care to smash them up a bit when you mix the chicken with the veggies. The garlic gets mild, sweet and nutty as it roasts, which is delicious, so even if you think it will be too strong, use it! I've been afraid to cook with fresh garlic for years, because it's typically not a flavor I enjoy if it's very strong, but roasted, it's a completely different flavor.

As Promised

I like Meghan McCain. I know that probably comes to a shock to any of you who are familiar with my true-blue, Democrat-to-the-core politics, but it's true. I think she's funny, smart and surprisingly reasonable for a Republican. She's definitely not one of the crazy Republicans who hang around town hall meetings stirring up trouble.

So when I found out that people were throwing a fit over a -completely- innocuous picture that she posted on Twitter, I was pissed. The critics say that she's showing too much cleavage. And yeah, there is some boob there, but it's a tank top, not a corset and panties. Meghan is a curvy girl. Unless she puts on a turtleneck, there's probably going to be cleavage going on. She commented that she was spending the night at home with a book. Looks like pajamas and bedhead to me. People need to get over it. No one's complaining about Jeff Flake's shirtless photos. In fact, he seems to be getting a lot of brownie points for that.This is a ridiculous double standard.

Rant Over.

Bookshelves

I'm taking a suggestion from Random and posting pictures of my bookshelf. It's really dusty, because, well, I live in West Texas, and even if I dusted yesterday (and you can't prove I didn't!) it would be dusty again by today. Also, I forgot my Zyrtec this morning, so I only managed to dust the first two shelves before turning into one solid histamine reaction, so that's what you've got pictures of. You didn't want to see all the chick-lit and Terry Pratchett books anyway.  Here goes:

This is my top shelf. From left you see a picture of my feet, Other People's Love Letters, Cautionary Tales for Children by Edward Gorey (Shannon, you need this book.) Lyrical and Critical Essays by Albert Camus, My French Whore: A Love Story by Gene Wilder (It's soooo good!), The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, which was a graduation gift from my best friend in high school (Yes, I was that girl.), The Song of Songs, The Dictionary of Superstitions (because I'm highly superstitious) The Chronicles of Narnia, Ophelia by Lisa Klein (Hamlet, told from Ophelia's viewpoint),  PostSecret, The Joy of Sex (Which I didn't know was up there, and I should have moved it, because my dad is here all the time.), Human Sexuality: Diversity in Contemporary America (Which is a textbook, and therefore father-friendly.), and Mosby's Medical Dictionary. (Because Justin is in nursing school and I'm a huge geek, and wouldn't let him sell it back. Plus, I might be superstitious, but I also believe in science.)

Moving on to the second shelf:

From left: A picture of a dandelion (Yes, I took that, and I'm very proud of it.), The Quotation Dictionary (Which belonged to my Aunt Eva Pearl who used it when she went around giving Dale Carnegie talks.), The Red Tent by Anita Diamant, Bedlam: A Year in the Life of a Mental Hospital by Dominick Bosco (This book is non-fiction, and the scariest thing I've ever read.), The Secret History by Donna Tartt, The Witch of Cologne by Tobsha Learner, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (As I said, I'm a huge geek.), Love & Desire (This photography book is less pornographic than it sounds, but not much.), The Complete Sherlock Holmes, Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris (if you haven't read his stuff, you should.), and Listography: Your Life in Lists. (This is a really fun book, who doesn't love to make a good list? I filled it out on an airplane a year ago.).

There you have it, my bookshelf. You'll have to remember there are three more (dusty) shelves, and about a hundred books under my bed right now, but I think these are a pretty good representation of what I could be reading at any given moment.

That was fun. Thanks Random.

Come back tomorrow, when I'll talk about the "scandalous" Twitpic that Meghan McCain posted yesterday.

Bum Bum BAHHM!

Ok.

The hospital I work in is recently remodeled, very stylish and generally doesn't give anyone that creepy "I'm in a hospital" feeling on their skin. That said, whoever paid for the remodel, didn't think that it was important to pretty up the non-patient areas, so the ground floor (really the basement, I don't know who they think they're kidding with that G) basically looks exactly like you'd expect a hospital built in the 50s (or maybe the 70s) to look. Plain white, slightly shoddy tile on the walls, ugly linoleum and no windows. (I told you, it's a basement.) It's all together a very different environment than the cheerful "there are no sick people here!" schtick that the rest of the building has.

Adding to the creepy, institutional feel of the place is the fact that along the hallway are a series of doors with large, yellowing signs proclaiming THIS DOOR MUST BE LOCKED AT ALL TIMES and THIS DOOR IS NOT TO BE OPENED. Every time I've been down there alone, I've walked on the opposite side of the hallway to avoid something jumping out from behind these doors. What could they possibly keep in there? Is this secretly the psych ward? Zombies? The logical part of my mind knows that it's probably just trash bins or something, but it still creeps me out. Did I mention that the cafeteria is downstairs? During the day, this negates the creep factor a bit, since there are loads of people getting meals down there. Safety in numbers, you know.

Anyway, a few nights ago I had to venture down to the ATM machine in the middle of the night, and so I boarded the elevator, completely forgetting that the basement would be even creepier after hours. I walked down the hallway totally pretending that I wasn't prepared to flee at any moment, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a transporter came running, full tilt down the hall. I may or may not have let out a strangled little "eep!" Or possibly a big faah!!! Anyway, regaining my composure and trying not to think about what he possibly could have been running -from,- I made it to the "pantry" which is what they call the vending machine room where the ATM lives. I got my cash and, feeling somewhat triumphant, headed back to the elevator.

Blocking my way was one of THE DOORS. It was open, in a direct violation of the DO NOT OPEN signs. Crap, crap, crap. I let my the reasonable part of my brain (yes, I do have a reasonable part) take over and walked past the room. Not being able to resist facing my fear, I looked to my left and I found this:

That's right, folks. A single, pink, helium-balloon. There was nothing else in there. Every time I think about it, I dissolve into giggles, because it's so weird and ridiculous. Justin thinks the lonely balloon makes it even creepier, but I love, love, love it.

I'm still not going down alone at night again.

TMI? Maybe.

I'm not exactly a seductress. Yes, I know, you're all very surprised. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an innocent Amish girl or anything, but frequently when I try to channel Bette Page, I fail miserably. (Much like the woman in this video.) Not to give too many intimate details away, (or cause anyone who might be related to me to scratch out their eyes) but I will tell you that in the (very) recent past an "event" ended with someone in the room saying "what are you doing?!" and someone else saying "I'm turning you on, I'm turning you on!!"

*sigh*

Oh well, it's funny now...at least to one of the parties involved.

AND, for the record, NO ONE WAS NAKED. So stop thinking about it!

Return of the King?

Does anyone else see the face of Elvis in my massive, ugly blood work bruise? (It's not just me, Justin sees it too.)

What if I make a diagram?

 

 I'm pretty pleased with my Elvis bruise. Primarily because had it been an image of the Virgin Mary, there'd be a gaudy shrine in my front yard. I also might have had to remove my arm and auction it on ebay. 

Pancake Bunny?

I don't know why this bunny has a pancake on it's head, but I like it. Perhaps I need more sleep.

More weird art by Dan Lacey Here.

The New Doctor

I went to establish myself as a patient (I think that's a funny term) today with my new PCP. I was nervous, because the last time I had my very own doctor for things like the flu was 6 or 7 years ago, and she was kind of...bitchy. Since then I've just gone to the doc-in-a-box clinic, which always takes forever and exposes me to so much crap that I usually go home sicker than I was before I went in.
 So, my appointment was at 8:30am on Wednesday. I got off at 6:30, found my way over to the office (across town) and hung out, reading, in the parking lot for the next 90 minutes. It was COMPLETELY worth the wait. Those of you who follow my Twitter (over there ==>) already know that I luurrrve Dr. Landry, now I'll tell you why.

His office was comfortable, I didn't wait in the lobby for more than 5 minutes before I was called back and his staff were all super nice. (As an added bonus, I've lost 5 pounds since my work physical. Yay!)(Yes, I'm aware that 5 pounds is practically nothing, but it's not like I've been making any effort to lose weight, either.) The doctor himself was very pleasant and answered all of my questions. He appeared interested in me, as a person, not just any symptoms that I might be having, and he actually listened when I told him that I'd been having problems with some medication. He also told me that if I was feeling sick or needed to be seen for some reason, that I could always walk in at 8am or 4pm and someone in his practice would be available to see me without too long of a wait. It was the best experience I have -ever- had with a physician, and I feel almost elated. (It's similar to the feeling after a great first date. But in a totally appropriate, non-sexual tension kind of way.) I had no idea that a doctor's visit could be like that. I vote that we put Dr. Landry and Terroni in charge of health care reform. Especially the parts regarding actual patient care, not just money, which is what everyone else seems to be focusing on.