Escrow closed today. I hope and pray this will be the last move of my life!! I just need to find movers...any takers? Bueller? Bueller? Actually I think that I will somehow manage to obtain parental help with the moving expenses. You see, Kidlet can't do it cause of the whole head thing, I can't cause of the whole body thing, my Pop can't cause of the whole back thing, my Mom can't cause of the whole traditional mother's don't really carry large heavy objects when they can afford to hire some one else to do it, and I don't think I can find a man to marry or even sexually bribe between now and then.
Which is actually quite rather pathetic. Not the marriage part, but the whole bribery thing. I mean I have about another month until the former owners actually get out, and with that amount of time I don't think I can get my act together, shave my legs, wrap the funbags in a wisp of cloth and an inch or two of thread, and locate some manly mane, or more likely some desperate nerd - hopefully either with a fortune and willing to fund the move, or with some friends who want to jump in on the fun and complete the move themselves!
Pathetic! I've gotten so old in my old age! Actually, in the past month I've aged about 15 years, which is fine - I'm still being confused for my daughter's sister, and my friends for our mother...actually at this point I'm starting to get the idea I need to step it up a bit. It would be nice if as a mid-30's lady people looked at me and notice - WOMAN - rather than thinking, young, naive, not super hot so probably desperate and easy... let me see, maybe she won't notice the not-so-sly booby brush or should I just go straight for the ass grab.
What's really creepy, and this is for real here, not some hooey you throw up here in order to maintain your readers, and this, it's creepy, and really, really disturbing. Going back to the guys and young girls, or women rather, in a bar or club, or at a party... Rather recently I was out and talking to a casual acquaintance, not a close friend - mutual beer buying on birthdays kind of thing - talented, sought after, and a man whore. Regardless of that last fact he doesn't do it for me. Anyway, we were talking and somehow phones came up - camera phones and pictures. I ended up seeing dozens of photos of faceless females - it was an entire collection of in public under the skirt shots - dropped napkins, spilt drinks, shoes to be fixed, whatever the cover may have been - they were now in the phone! There were gramma panties, dirty panties,thighs so big you couldn't see the panties, thongs, cute cotton panties and no panties, some were posed, some unposed, some silverware, and oh yes, even more!!! I have never been so suddenly horrified and self conscious in my life!
So, I have introduced leggings to my daughter and have a new found appreciation for capris.
Ladies, keep both feet on the ground, knees together, and your crotch covered. You never know when the phone is going to attack. Fo Sho.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
When Animals Attack
Dear International News Agencies,
Recently there has been a surge in strange animal activity. At times these stories have a definite impact upon the state of our planet, the birth of nearly extinct animals, the loss of another species, and the like, while at others, these stories are geared directly at my worst nightmares.
In the past few months there were stories about an anaconda which has been stealing goats and small children. The creature was caught by a grandfather trying to stop the animal from digesting his grandson. The appropriate photographs of the school age child were included, as was the grandfather, and the monstorous snake body. I mistakenly believed that anacondas did not eat people, especially not people larger than a grown goat. Thank you for informing me otherwise.
Last week was the story about the crocodile that attacked the State Trooper's vehicle. I was always under the impression that you were safe from crocodiles if you remained inside a locked, and moving, vehicle. Thank you for the enlightenment. Crodociles will attack, disable, and attempt to devour your vehicle on their way to your meaty human flesh. I will sleep better at night.
There have been stories of people stung by scorpions during the middle of an international flight and while in the grocery store shopping for fruit. While I had always believed scorpions to be outdoor creature, not prone to airports or fruitstands, I now know better. I once had to kill a very large and quite deadly scorpion in order to save my dog's life. It was a horrible experience, the crunching and the clawing, the way it would not die - it is one I do not wish to repeat. I shall always be on the alert. The next time I board a plane I will thoroughly check my seat cushions prior to take off so the flight attendant can dispose of any scorpions for me. And I shall abstain from all fruit, maybe I should include all vegetables too.
Then today was the article that brought me back to my child hood fears. It related to a few other stories I recently saw that have yet to leave my conscious thought. They deal with old childhood stories about small insects and other bugs making a home out of your nose, ear, hair, or skin.
There was recently a story of about someone who went to the doctor for a rather unusual skin disturbance. As the doctor poked and prodded the skin it erupted and hundreds of baby spiders made it's way down the obliging incubator's neck. Now, I don't suppose any of the waiting patients remained in their rooms after hearing the multitude of screams and the resulting level of hysteria, but I could be wrong. As you have shown me so recently, I frequently am.
And today, well, today you were kind enough to headline the story about the young boy who heard the crackling noises of a pair of spiders taking a walk through of their new home, his eardrum. Unfortunately the doctor had to irrigate his ear canal to discover the spiders and in the process killed one, and destroyed their home, so you were not actually able to provide the relevant photos with this story.
I would like to thank you, International News Agencies, for bringing back my childhood fears and nightmares. As I had grown and matured I convinced myself these fears were irrational old tales told to scare one another at a sleep over - you have now taken that magical world away for all future children who will have to find more creative and disgusting ways to scare on another at a sleepover, and opened my eyes to the fact that yes, sometimes children are smarter than adults, some adults are just living in a dream world, thinking that disease, fires, wars, and famine are the frightening things in live. While they may be frightening, I fear it is far more likely some spider will appropriate my body while I sleep and months later I will give birth to a litter of mutant spider babies.
Sleep well my friends.
Recently there has been a surge in strange animal activity. At times these stories have a definite impact upon the state of our planet, the birth of nearly extinct animals, the loss of another species, and the like, while at others, these stories are geared directly at my worst nightmares.
In the past few months there were stories about an anaconda which has been stealing goats and small children. The creature was caught by a grandfather trying to stop the animal from digesting his grandson. The appropriate photographs of the school age child were included, as was the grandfather, and the monstorous snake body. I mistakenly believed that anacondas did not eat people, especially not people larger than a grown goat. Thank you for informing me otherwise.
Last week was the story about the crocodile that attacked the State Trooper's vehicle. I was always under the impression that you were safe from crocodiles if you remained inside a locked, and moving, vehicle. Thank you for the enlightenment. Crodociles will attack, disable, and attempt to devour your vehicle on their way to your meaty human flesh. I will sleep better at night.
There have been stories of people stung by scorpions during the middle of an international flight and while in the grocery store shopping for fruit. While I had always believed scorpions to be outdoor creature, not prone to airports or fruitstands, I now know better. I once had to kill a very large and quite deadly scorpion in order to save my dog's life. It was a horrible experience, the crunching and the clawing, the way it would not die - it is one I do not wish to repeat. I shall always be on the alert. The next time I board a plane I will thoroughly check my seat cushions prior to take off so the flight attendant can dispose of any scorpions for me. And I shall abstain from all fruit, maybe I should include all vegetables too.
Then today was the article that brought me back to my child hood fears. It related to a few other stories I recently saw that have yet to leave my conscious thought. They deal with old childhood stories about small insects and other bugs making a home out of your nose, ear, hair, or skin.
There was recently a story of about someone who went to the doctor for a rather unusual skin disturbance. As the doctor poked and prodded the skin it erupted and hundreds of baby spiders made it's way down the obliging incubator's neck. Now, I don't suppose any of the waiting patients remained in their rooms after hearing the multitude of screams and the resulting level of hysteria, but I could be wrong. As you have shown me so recently, I frequently am.
And today, well, today you were kind enough to headline the story about the young boy who heard the crackling noises of a pair of spiders taking a walk through of their new home, his eardrum. Unfortunately the doctor had to irrigate his ear canal to discover the spiders and in the process killed one, and destroyed their home, so you were not actually able to provide the relevant photos with this story.
I would like to thank you, International News Agencies, for bringing back my childhood fears and nightmares. As I had grown and matured I convinced myself these fears were irrational old tales told to scare one another at a sleep over - you have now taken that magical world away for all future children who will have to find more creative and disgusting ways to scare on another at a sleepover, and opened my eyes to the fact that yes, sometimes children are smarter than adults, some adults are just living in a dream world, thinking that disease, fires, wars, and famine are the frightening things in live. While they may be frightening, I fear it is far more likely some spider will appropriate my body while I sleep and months later I will give birth to a litter of mutant spider babies.
Sleep well my friends.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Searching for Something...not a soulmate, not my shoes, but something all the same
So, I've been kind of cooped up for the last few months and during that time life has thrown many a curve ball. I am a fairly easygoing person, and lousy whenever you throw any type of ball at me, so I've continued on my regular path...which means I turn around, flee the dugout, and hit the hottub to contemplate the deeper meaning of the word "curve" in the phrase curve ball.... I mean it's not like the shape of the sphere actually changes so... nevermind
Point is...I adjust and move on.
It looks as though my intended career and my ability to reap the rewards of my years of education and the benefits of a doctoral degree are in the distant future. It's not good. And I must make more adjustments.
Such as, I have decided to return to my creative youth, while retaining my present maturity, and write. I have to say, the computer I am currently using is just about awful for my physical being, and my first assignment is to earn enough money to get myself a new laptop so I can be forever comfortable in the setting of my choice.
I am probably the most voracious reader you will ever meet...or at least ever hear of. I read constantly, multiple books at a time (bad habit), and quickly. I love to read. It relaxes me and excites me, puts me to sleep and keeps me awake. It's the wonder drug. Just adjust the topic or author and you will find the desired benefit.
I want to write about parenting, but I don't know how to start off. I have some excellent ideas. I think I'm going to just start in the middle, and elaborate on life circumstances that have both impressed me and bothered me - my child acknowledging something amazing, other parents' belittling behaviour that as a single action is not abusive yet as a pattern creates severe emotional trauma.
There are so many things that I've come across and written about for myself, situations that I've lived, or helped others through, or just had to remove myself from altogether after acknowledging that such horror exists in this world.
I am not the most learned woman out there, I didn't start the whole parenting thing off on the best foot, I'm not the award winning mother, but I am a great mom who has managed to raise a wonderful, grounded, emotionally mature, intelligent, witty, and amazing girl-child. My daughter is and always will be fantastic. She is the kid (and I say this only because it has happened repeatedly) you want to come over and spend the night, heck the weekend, or make it the week, hoping that her influence will help your child to step it up a notch. She is respectful, clears the table when a guest in your home, uses her napkin, minds her manners, and has been recognized at school for her skills both academically and as a born mediator - she is one who observes and reaches out to assist those in need, calming, mediating, just listening. She is active in the local volunteer agency, studies music, and until her most recent and severe injury from which she is recovering, played sports and has been recognized at the epitome of a true team player.
Yes I am a proud mom. I am proud of her immensly, and when I look at her accomplishments, reflect upon our wonderful and wonderous dynamic, and think of her inner strength and stability, I am proud of myself as well.
And as I glance back up to the heading on this post it makes me realize I'm not actually looking for something, what I have is so wonderful I am fearful of it changing. She is growing and maturing every day. She surprises me in so many ways. She is my inspiration. I wish, I pray, and this is coming from a non-religious person here, I do pray that we may stay who we are, only becoming more fully ourselves while maintaining our dynamic, not because it is the root of envy for other mothers, not because she is far and away the greatest accomplishment I will ever claim, but simply because I love her beyond words, and feel that love returned equally. I do not yet know how to let it go. I can let her grow, but I hope it will not be away from me.
Point is...I adjust and move on.
It looks as though my intended career and my ability to reap the rewards of my years of education and the benefits of a doctoral degree are in the distant future. It's not good. And I must make more adjustments.
Such as, I have decided to return to my creative youth, while retaining my present maturity, and write. I have to say, the computer I am currently using is just about awful for my physical being, and my first assignment is to earn enough money to get myself a new laptop so I can be forever comfortable in the setting of my choice.
I am probably the most voracious reader you will ever meet...or at least ever hear of. I read constantly, multiple books at a time (bad habit), and quickly. I love to read. It relaxes me and excites me, puts me to sleep and keeps me awake. It's the wonder drug. Just adjust the topic or author and you will find the desired benefit.
I want to write about parenting, but I don't know how to start off. I have some excellent ideas. I think I'm going to just start in the middle, and elaborate on life circumstances that have both impressed me and bothered me - my child acknowledging something amazing, other parents' belittling behaviour that as a single action is not abusive yet as a pattern creates severe emotional trauma.
There are so many things that I've come across and written about for myself, situations that I've lived, or helped others through, or just had to remove myself from altogether after acknowledging that such horror exists in this world.
I am not the most learned woman out there, I didn't start the whole parenting thing off on the best foot, I'm not the award winning mother, but I am a great mom who has managed to raise a wonderful, grounded, emotionally mature, intelligent, witty, and amazing girl-child. My daughter is and always will be fantastic. She is the kid (and I say this only because it has happened repeatedly) you want to come over and spend the night, heck the weekend, or make it the week, hoping that her influence will help your child to step it up a notch. She is respectful, clears the table when a guest in your home, uses her napkin, minds her manners, and has been recognized at school for her skills both academically and as a born mediator - she is one who observes and reaches out to assist those in need, calming, mediating, just listening. She is active in the local volunteer agency, studies music, and until her most recent and severe injury from which she is recovering, played sports and has been recognized at the epitome of a true team player.
Yes I am a proud mom. I am proud of her immensly, and when I look at her accomplishments, reflect upon our wonderful and wonderous dynamic, and think of her inner strength and stability, I am proud of myself as well.
And as I glance back up to the heading on this post it makes me realize I'm not actually looking for something, what I have is so wonderful I am fearful of it changing. She is growing and maturing every day. She surprises me in so many ways. She is my inspiration. I wish, I pray, and this is coming from a non-religious person here, I do pray that we may stay who we are, only becoming more fully ourselves while maintaining our dynamic, not because it is the root of envy for other mothers, not because she is far and away the greatest accomplishment I will ever claim, but simply because I love her beyond words, and feel that love returned equally. I do not yet know how to let it go. I can let her grow, but I hope it will not be away from me.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Life is never dull damn it - if you've got one get your ass up and live it!
It's been a few weeks, and yes, you may feel neglected, however, life has been calling me in other directions. It's only now that I feel settled enough to consider jotting down a few words for my two or three (or are those hits just me?) readers...
Big changes afoot!
We shall move once again! For those who know me this is no new song, but quite repetitious and rather worn out...we move far too often, and it is a sad, sad reflection upon the state of my life...however (like you've not heard this before!) this time it's different!!
Before I explain HOW this differs from all the rest, let me give you the cronology of my homes from the time of my child's conception to date... Without thinking this out before hand, my 13 year old thinks we've moved 15 times since her birth. I think it's less than that but wouldn't be surprised if she's right.
Conception and eight months of pregnancy were in a hell whole studio apartment
1. Baby, baby daddy & I came home from the hospital to Mom and Dad's (my age- 20 & 2 days)
2. Not working there, move in to my uncle's spacious 7 room abode
3. Life was not working - lost the hubby, gained some self esteem and moved back to the 'rents.
4. Crazy stalker ex-hub combined with my need for school - move to Chico, CA
5. Worn down and quite ill - work, school, 22 & a toddler in a strange place - back to the 'rents.
6. Need some space - school, work, & kid all good - move in with another mommy roomy
7. Meet man I will marry - move in to small condo 2nd floor of a 3 story complex.
8. Offered a GREAT house super cheap - room for dog, garden, band, etc!!
9. Found out new hubby prefers rockstar dreams & lifestyle to real family - back to 'rents.
10. Love my Mom, but can't live with her - find flat across town.
11. Many crazy neighbors - pitbull attacks, drug raids, and the guy downstairs yells at my kid &
kill my garden...outta there and in to a house near the cute part of town.
12. Substitute QUAINT for CUTE as the house is infested with rats - partial demolition is
required per the exteminator...BRAND new apartment
13. Parents move cross country but don't want to sell...ask me to move to their home...ok
14. Months later, 'rents change their mind...meanwhile reconciled with dreamer ex & get a house 15. Reconciliation was a lapse of sanity...living out my dream for a change...he is a true alky -
move to present home.
So, apparently my kid was right...technically you can't see we've moved 15 times, we started at number one and have moved 14 times since then...but the kidlet's close enough.
Now, for the LAST MOVE EVER! (dear god/dess please make it so!)
Those oh so glorious parents you've seen referred to throughout as my saviours and providers, both family and friend, my past employer and landlord, well, they got rather tired of adjusting their home for us to fit whenever things got bad...and I don't blame them a bit!!!
So, to make sure we couldn't move back (our dog is hated by their dog and it's not a good scene), well, those lovely people were driving home one day when they saw a realtor posting a sale sign on the house next door...so they went over, and after some haggling and wheeling and dealing, they bought the darn thing, and the kid, the dog, and I are about to be the new happy inhabitants!
However - and there is always a however - this house was not just for us, but for the entire family...when someone is in need, this is the home for them. Considering I'm the oldest of four, and one is away at school, one is married and living outside of the US, and one is married with a baby and secure in their job, I thought no worries, no hassles, super cool!!
The brother who is married, with child, and secure in the job apparently is secure in a job that has become distasteful to him, and has been seeking an opportunity to return to his hometown to pursue another degree in another field, and increase the familial connection too. He placed a call to the family - me and the pop, to ask if we would be so kind, and would we mind...
Well, we're super lucky cause that familial connection is about to be multiplied insanely as he, the wife and super-mini kidlet will be staying with us in the new house until they are on their feet and ready for a home of their own in their hometown.
And this my friends, is the ultimate example, on all parts, of what a family is for.
Good night, sleep tight, and please, give your momma a kiss for me, and the pop a hug - or a least an extra-warm handshake!
Big changes afoot!
We shall move once again! For those who know me this is no new song, but quite repetitious and rather worn out...we move far too often, and it is a sad, sad reflection upon the state of my life...however (like you've not heard this before!) this time it's different!!
Before I explain HOW this differs from all the rest, let me give you the cronology of my homes from the time of my child's conception to date... Without thinking this out before hand, my 13 year old thinks we've moved 15 times since her birth. I think it's less than that but wouldn't be surprised if she's right.
Conception and eight months of pregnancy were in a hell whole studio apartment
1. Baby, baby daddy & I came home from the hospital to Mom and Dad's (my age- 20 & 2 days)
2. Not working there, move in to my uncle's spacious 7 room abode
3. Life was not working - lost the hubby, gained some self esteem and moved back to the 'rents.
4. Crazy stalker ex-hub combined with my need for school - move to Chico, CA
5. Worn down and quite ill - work, school, 22 & a toddler in a strange place - back to the 'rents.
6. Need some space - school, work, & kid all good - move in with another mommy roomy
7. Meet man I will marry - move in to small condo 2nd floor of a 3 story complex.
8. Offered a GREAT house super cheap - room for dog, garden, band, etc!!
9. Found out new hubby prefers rockstar dreams & lifestyle to real family - back to 'rents.
10. Love my Mom, but can't live with her - find flat across town.
11. Many crazy neighbors - pitbull attacks, drug raids, and the guy downstairs yells at my kid &
kill my garden...outta there and in to a house near the cute part of town.
12. Substitute QUAINT for CUTE as the house is infested with rats - partial demolition is
required per the exteminator...BRAND new apartment
13. Parents move cross country but don't want to sell...ask me to move to their home...ok
14. Months later, 'rents change their mind...meanwhile reconciled with dreamer ex & get a house 15. Reconciliation was a lapse of sanity...living out my dream for a change...he is a true alky -
move to present home.
So, apparently my kid was right...technically you can't see we've moved 15 times, we started at number one and have moved 14 times since then...but the kidlet's close enough.
Now, for the LAST MOVE EVER! (dear god/dess please make it so!)
Those oh so glorious parents you've seen referred to throughout as my saviours and providers, both family and friend, my past employer and landlord, well, they got rather tired of adjusting their home for us to fit whenever things got bad...and I don't blame them a bit!!!
So, to make sure we couldn't move back (our dog is hated by their dog and it's not a good scene), well, those lovely people were driving home one day when they saw a realtor posting a sale sign on the house next door...so they went over, and after some haggling and wheeling and dealing, they bought the darn thing, and the kid, the dog, and I are about to be the new happy inhabitants!
However - and there is always a however - this house was not just for us, but for the entire family...when someone is in need, this is the home for them. Considering I'm the oldest of four, and one is away at school, one is married and living outside of the US, and one is married with a baby and secure in their job, I thought no worries, no hassles, super cool!!
The brother who is married, with child, and secure in the job apparently is secure in a job that has become distasteful to him, and has been seeking an opportunity to return to his hometown to pursue another degree in another field, and increase the familial connection too. He placed a call to the family - me and the pop, to ask if we would be so kind, and would we mind...
Well, we're super lucky cause that familial connection is about to be multiplied insanely as he, the wife and super-mini kidlet will be staying with us in the new house until they are on their feet and ready for a home of their own in their hometown.
And this my friends, is the ultimate example, on all parts, of what a family is for.
Good night, sleep tight, and please, give your momma a kiss for me, and the pop a hug - or a least an extra-warm handshake!
Monday, April 30, 2007
And now I know why credit cards inflate their interest rates
I got a card with Juniper Bank, Apple’s financing company, about a year ago. Soon thereafter I tried to access it online and couldn’t create an account. I called them to find out why and I was able to learn that my social security number is wrong. As I don't know what the wrong number is, I only know the right number, they won't give me my account information - I can't confirm that I am me! I asked them to fix it, they said ok. They didn’t. I called back - “please fix it,” they didn’t. I wrote - same story. And on and on it went.
After many months I was getting pissed and called up again to discuss their incompetence - and the kind man on the phone said:
“Hey, it’s not your social right, so don’t pay the bill.”
I was rather confused and he explained, “If it’s not your social it’s not your credit report so what are they going to do to you if you don’t pay the bill. It’s not going to show on your credit if you don’t pay it, so just stop paying and maybe you’ll get their attention. If it doesn’t, then consider it compensation for your trouble.”
I know that it’s not legally sound advice for me to hand out to you, but I’m thinking that since their employee told me to stop paying my bill - and yes, it was one of those recorded conversations so they can find it - I may have some ground to stand on.
I wish more customer service agents would commit their companies to letting you off the hook for your credit card debt.
After many months I was getting pissed and called up again to discuss their incompetence - and the kind man on the phone said:
“Hey, it’s not your social right, so don’t pay the bill.”
I was rather confused and he explained, “If it’s not your social it’s not your credit report so what are they going to do to you if you don’t pay the bill. It’s not going to show on your credit if you don’t pay it, so just stop paying and maybe you’ll get their attention. If it doesn’t, then consider it compensation for your trouble.”
I know that it’s not legally sound advice for me to hand out to you, but I’m thinking that since their employee told me to stop paying my bill - and yes, it was one of those recorded conversations so they can find it - I may have some ground to stand on.
I wish more customer service agents would commit their companies to letting you off the hook for your credit card debt.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Bad New and No News - Sometimes it's Good News
While today was not a fountain of joyous and calming news, it was a certainly much more of a fount of news than days we've spent at the doctor's in the last few months.
And even though it may have been bad news and then no news, all in all the news and lack thereof resulted in it being a good news day.
Finally we had the exciting drive to the big city to see the big city doc who would fix my small town baby's severe post concussive syndrom. We got to skip the hospital teacher and everything - so I made it a special day!! I introduced my soon to be high school age daughter to the wonder of...SEPHORA. Yes, we left our backwards town at the crack of dawn, hitched the mules to the cart and rode on in to the paved road where we hitched a ride to the bus stop.
Actually I picked up coffee, filled up on gas, which was fortunate, cause then I passed the exit. We made it to Sephora, then SF, found the right Kaiser building, grabbed some burgers, and then met the most wonderful neurologist I've come across in my ten years of neurology visits - which probably number more than the teeth left in your Great-Uncle Jeb's mouth - with his dentures in!
Unfortunately he extended the "return to school date" for my daughter - it was first set in February, two dates offered in March, we went down thinking no later than April 16 (with a secret hope that he might say sooner), and I believe we were both shattered when he said it would be best if she stayed home through the end of the year. Kidlet had already canceled the big school trip to DC and NCY but was shattered when he said no school at all for Jr. High.
That was the bad news. He did redeem himself, and here is the good news that followed the bad news (we'll get to the no news that led to the good news in a sec). This Dr. Raja is one cool dude and def not too old to forget what it's like to be a teen. He suggested it might help her healing if she were allowed to have a presence - no work, no grades, just a social presence on campus - on a regular if not daily basis. The isolation from her friends and classes could slow her recovery even more, and her prolonged absence could have serious ramification on her social and emotional growth if steps are not taken to ensure her place in her social scene in the last semester before high school.
That's the good news - she gets to continue with the personal teacher every day - who adores her - and attend her favorite class and lunch, but not be responsible for classowork, school assigned homework, projects, or any tests - for the rest of the year. She is also to be allowed to participate in dances and things like that. Yeah for Kidlet!! Cheers for Doc Raja!!!
The no news - well, I'm not so hot myself. I have some sort of arterial issue - as in something's wrong with an artery that feeds my brain and so I've been losing my eye sight, falling over, forgetting stuff and not being able to follow directions, feeling like I can't move and my body is numb, and things like that - it seriously bites! The docs, a few of 'em, thought I might have MS but I don't. The neurologist I saw says there's nothing to be done but deal with it my not ever moving my head...hey your shoes untied - dude, that joke could kill me, or give me a stroke or something. Seriously.
So he was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing but I've spent the past few days freakin out. I have been referred down to the big city for another opinion - supposedly a second opinion, but this opinion of the artery thing is actually only the latest in a string of quacky docs so... Oh yeah, our facility doesn't have the ability to do ANY imaging of this sporadically shut down artery either - so no idea if there is anything paliative I could do - or should avoid - like if you rub my neck will you cut off the brain flow entirely or could it increase it???
I was expecting to hear from the SF Kaiser (yepp, the place I spent the day at today) but instead heard back from the nurse. SF is so impacted they cannot see me with the immediacy they believe my condition deserves so the had to return the referral for another facility of my doctor's choosing that could provide me care on a more urgent basis.
I was driving when I heard that and thought - should I turn around and head home?? Should I pull off the highway and find an ER and check in? Am I going to die while I wait for this referral to be completed??? OK, maybe those were dramatic, but the whole SF response and the nurse's version did not work to calm my nerves.
The day went on and a few hours later I heard I was being referred to Sacramento - while normally that would not be my first or second or third choice, I asked for the most appropriate place with the most advanced equipment that could be used for my condition - I trust my primary enough to believe she made an informed decision and will go from there. I was told to expect to hear from Sac to schedule. The hours continued to pass, and as I was in SF for Kidlet's appointment with the specialist I had only my cell - which did not ring, did not show a missed call, and never chimed through with a voicemail. So stuck in rush hour traffice I started to stress - what if Sac doesn't want me either? What if they never finished the referral? How much longer before someone gets a handle on this and I get some good or at least complete information?
Not a good place to be. Rush hour, stop and go, a motorcycle cop on my tail in the carpool lane, a complaining and extremely unhappy and pained teen in the front, overdue on meds, and a bottle of methadone waiting for me in my purse. For two hours. But we made it home alive.
I walked in and there were 6 messages on my home machine. One, only one, but at least one,was from the Sacramento Kaiser - they called to schedule me. My first thought was FUCK! I missed them - but after I called them back, after hours and unable to leave a message, I realized - hey, they have my cell too, they know this is the home number, if it were truly urgent, as urgent as I feared it could be, they would have called my cell to schedule and not given up leaving one message on my home number.
That is how no news can be good news.
Hope the world is here tomorrow so you can continue with what is now your today.
Night.
And even though it may have been bad news and then no news, all in all the news and lack thereof resulted in it being a good news day.
Finally we had the exciting drive to the big city to see the big city doc who would fix my small town baby's severe post concussive syndrom. We got to skip the hospital teacher and everything - so I made it a special day!! I introduced my soon to be high school age daughter to the wonder of...SEPHORA. Yes, we left our backwards town at the crack of dawn, hitched the mules to the cart and rode on in to the paved road where we hitched a ride to the bus stop.
Actually I picked up coffee, filled up on gas, which was fortunate, cause then I passed the exit. We made it to Sephora, then SF, found the right Kaiser building, grabbed some burgers, and then met the most wonderful neurologist I've come across in my ten years of neurology visits - which probably number more than the teeth left in your Great-Uncle Jeb's mouth - with his dentures in!
Unfortunately he extended the "return to school date" for my daughter - it was first set in February, two dates offered in March, we went down thinking no later than April 16 (with a secret hope that he might say sooner), and I believe we were both shattered when he said it would be best if she stayed home through the end of the year. Kidlet had already canceled the big school trip to DC and NCY but was shattered when he said no school at all for Jr. High.
That was the bad news. He did redeem himself, and here is the good news that followed the bad news (we'll get to the no news that led to the good news in a sec). This Dr. Raja is one cool dude and def not too old to forget what it's like to be a teen. He suggested it might help her healing if she were allowed to have a presence - no work, no grades, just a social presence on campus - on a regular if not daily basis. The isolation from her friends and classes could slow her recovery even more, and her prolonged absence could have serious ramification on her social and emotional growth if steps are not taken to ensure her place in her social scene in the last semester before high school.
That's the good news - she gets to continue with the personal teacher every day - who adores her - and attend her favorite class and lunch, but not be responsible for classowork, school assigned homework, projects, or any tests - for the rest of the year. She is also to be allowed to participate in dances and things like that. Yeah for Kidlet!! Cheers for Doc Raja!!!
The no news - well, I'm not so hot myself. I have some sort of arterial issue - as in something's wrong with an artery that feeds my brain and so I've been losing my eye sight, falling over, forgetting stuff and not being able to follow directions, feeling like I can't move and my body is numb, and things like that - it seriously bites! The docs, a few of 'em, thought I might have MS but I don't. The neurologist I saw says there's nothing to be done but deal with it my not ever moving my head...hey your shoes untied - dude, that joke could kill me, or give me a stroke or something. Seriously.
So he was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing but I've spent the past few days freakin out. I have been referred down to the big city for another opinion - supposedly a second opinion, but this opinion of the artery thing is actually only the latest in a string of quacky docs so... Oh yeah, our facility doesn't have the ability to do ANY imaging of this sporadically shut down artery either - so no idea if there is anything paliative I could do - or should avoid - like if you rub my neck will you cut off the brain flow entirely or could it increase it???
I was expecting to hear from the SF Kaiser (yepp, the place I spent the day at today) but instead heard back from the nurse. SF is so impacted they cannot see me with the immediacy they believe my condition deserves so the had to return the referral for another facility of my doctor's choosing that could provide me care on a more urgent basis.
I was driving when I heard that and thought - should I turn around and head home?? Should I pull off the highway and find an ER and check in? Am I going to die while I wait for this referral to be completed??? OK, maybe those were dramatic, but the whole SF response and the nurse's version did not work to calm my nerves.
The day went on and a few hours later I heard I was being referred to Sacramento - while normally that would not be my first or second or third choice, I asked for the most appropriate place with the most advanced equipment that could be used for my condition - I trust my primary enough to believe she made an informed decision and will go from there. I was told to expect to hear from Sac to schedule. The hours continued to pass, and as I was in SF for Kidlet's appointment with the specialist I had only my cell - which did not ring, did not show a missed call, and never chimed through with a voicemail. So stuck in rush hour traffice I started to stress - what if Sac doesn't want me either? What if they never finished the referral? How much longer before someone gets a handle on this and I get some good or at least complete information?
Not a good place to be. Rush hour, stop and go, a motorcycle cop on my tail in the carpool lane, a complaining and extremely unhappy and pained teen in the front, overdue on meds, and a bottle of methadone waiting for me in my purse. For two hours. But we made it home alive.
I walked in and there were 6 messages on my home machine. One, only one, but at least one,was from the Sacramento Kaiser - they called to schedule me. My first thought was FUCK! I missed them - but after I called them back, after hours and unable to leave a message, I realized - hey, they have my cell too, they know this is the home number, if it were truly urgent, as urgent as I feared it could be, they would have called my cell to schedule and not given up leaving one message on my home number.
That is how no news can be good news.
Hope the world is here tomorrow so you can continue with what is now your today.
Night.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Methadone is kickin my butt - and I'm ready to kick his!
Right now I guess I'm experience life as someone who is manic depressive would - but unlike a manic depressive it's due to the chemicals I am putting inside my body.
Yesterday was great, we both slept in a bit, but then we got up and out and ran errands and were incredibly productive, took a drive to visit out of town friends, and then caught my cousin's show last night (joeclopton.com - he freakin rocks man!). All and all is was a pretty excellent day - until I was ready for bed. Once again I lay there for hours and hours. Fortunately I fell asleep before 4, unfortunately, and unlike any other night, I slept until 11.
So once I got up today it was rushing around to shower and dress and clean the house before I have to leave for the doctor and the babysitter and teacher were coming. I made it to the docs, it was a first visit with a new specialist, and it went well but it took 2 hours. I came home and crashed. I slept till about 4:30. My poor kid. She was fine, worked on this new computerized home design thing she loves, napped, homework, the dog, but still, poor kid. I didn't have energy to string a sentence together until 6:30. Even then I was far from ways away from a spring in my step and sly grin on my face - try heavy lidded eyes and husky I'm sleeping voice with an irritable 'the phone woke me and now I can't get back to sleep' attitude.
About 5 she called her Dad to remind him she was spending the night. As I was still pretty out of it she asked him to pick her up. He told her to call him about 7 or 7:30 for an answer. So she called at 7:15, he yelled at her for calling before 7:30 and told her to call back later. So she did - and he asked his roommate if they could pick up the kid (Brief explaination here - the guy chooses not to pay child support so the state has taken his drivers license. If he doesn't come up with $300 before May 1st, he'll finally go to jail - that may sound harsh BUT his current monthly support is ONLY $100 - I'm nice, really nice - and with the current amount in mind - he's over $28,000 behind. You have to struggle to get that far behind - I mean, you really have to work at it to be such a deadbeat.)
Unknownst to him, the kid heard both sides of his conversation and it went like this:
DAD to roommate: Hey, do you mind if we go get the kid?
ROOMMATE'S IMMEDIATE RESPONSE; Yeah, sure.
DAD into the phone: Are you sure? You sounded kinda hesitant like you're not feeling good or something.
ROOMMATE: Yeah, no, that's fine. How bout half an hour?
The kid got off the phone to tell me he would be here in half an hour but she had tears in her eyes - I asked what's wrong and she told me not to be mad or anything, and then relayed the conversation. She was pissed. She was pissed that she had to call him 3 times before he'd ask his roomate, and when the guy said yeah, immediately in a non-upset tone, that her dad tried to weasle out of it - she felt like he was lying, that he didn't want her there but was trying to blame it on the roommate being an asshole and not wanting to drive. Except she said jerk and not asshole.
She's right you know. But asshole is a more appropriate description than jerk. I'm sure there are even more appropriate descriptions out there and welcome your version - so come one, gimme your best shot!
Yesterday was great, we both slept in a bit, but then we got up and out and ran errands and were incredibly productive, took a drive to visit out of town friends, and then caught my cousin's show last night (joeclopton.com - he freakin rocks man!). All and all is was a pretty excellent day - until I was ready for bed. Once again I lay there for hours and hours. Fortunately I fell asleep before 4, unfortunately, and unlike any other night, I slept until 11.
So once I got up today it was rushing around to shower and dress and clean the house before I have to leave for the doctor and the babysitter and teacher were coming. I made it to the docs, it was a first visit with a new specialist, and it went well but it took 2 hours. I came home and crashed. I slept till about 4:30. My poor kid. She was fine, worked on this new computerized home design thing she loves, napped, homework, the dog, but still, poor kid. I didn't have energy to string a sentence together until 6:30. Even then I was far from ways away from a spring in my step and sly grin on my face - try heavy lidded eyes and husky I'm sleeping voice with an irritable 'the phone woke me and now I can't get back to sleep' attitude.
About 5 she called her Dad to remind him she was spending the night. As I was still pretty out of it she asked him to pick her up. He told her to call him about 7 or 7:30 for an answer. So she called at 7:15, he yelled at her for calling before 7:30 and told her to call back later. So she did - and he asked his roommate if they could pick up the kid (Brief explaination here - the guy chooses not to pay child support so the state has taken his drivers license. If he doesn't come up with $300 before May 1st, he'll finally go to jail - that may sound harsh BUT his current monthly support is ONLY $100 - I'm nice, really nice - and with the current amount in mind - he's over $28,000 behind. You have to struggle to get that far behind - I mean, you really have to work at it to be such a deadbeat.)
Unknownst to him, the kid heard both sides of his conversation and it went like this:
DAD to roommate: Hey, do you mind if we go get the kid?
ROOMMATE'S IMMEDIATE RESPONSE; Yeah, sure.
DAD into the phone: Are you sure? You sounded kinda hesitant like you're not feeling good or something.
ROOMMATE: Yeah, no, that's fine. How bout half an hour?
The kid got off the phone to tell me he would be here in half an hour but she had tears in her eyes - I asked what's wrong and she told me not to be mad or anything, and then relayed the conversation. She was pissed. She was pissed that she had to call him 3 times before he'd ask his roomate, and when the guy said yeah, immediately in a non-upset tone, that her dad tried to weasle out of it - she felt like he was lying, that he didn't want her there but was trying to blame it on the roommate being an asshole and not wanting to drive. Except she said jerk and not asshole.
She's right you know. But asshole is a more appropriate description than jerk. I'm sure there are even more appropriate descriptions out there and welcome your version - so come one, gimme your best shot!
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Bit more Bout me
It's a brief pictorial of things I like...first attempt at both a slide show and non-text post....bear with me...
Saturday, March 10, 2007
The Value of Me?
I am worth $2,271,594 on HumanForSale.com
How much are you worth?
Just in case you were wondering what I'm worth, there you go - a lot more than I expected,that's for sure, I mean if you were going to acutally assign a monetary value to me, because as everyone who knows me knows - I am priceless and irreplaceable! As are we all dear, as are we all.
My kid is worth exactly $2,238,586. I'd have thought they'd take her future earnings in to consideration and props for an SAT score in jr high, but I guess the system is flawed. Any system assigning monetary value to human life is flawed quite honestly.
How much are you worth?
Just in case you were wondering what I'm worth, there you go - a lot more than I expected,that's for sure, I mean if you were going to acutally assign a monetary value to me, because as everyone who knows me knows - I am priceless and irreplaceable! As are we all dear, as are we all.
My kid is worth exactly $2,238,586. I'd have thought they'd take her future earnings in to consideration and props for an SAT score in jr high, but I guess the system is flawed. Any system assigning monetary value to human life is flawed quite honestly.
Friday, March 9, 2007
Dismal Day & a Dumb Idea
Today was not delightful. Reality won. I slept too much, and then cried, and slept somemore. I have decided I don't like methadone much, but I don't hate it as much as I hate morphine. I like morphine in the hospital after surgery or something, but when you take it at home by yourself it just fucks you up. Don't get me wrong, methadone does too - but what it doesn't do - and nobody told me about this, discovered it the harsh way - methadone does not give you hallucinations while morphine can! Seriously - did you know that?!? It's not classified as a hallucinogenic, but man, it sure does the job!! Thanks for the forewarning there - for a few days I just thought I'd lost it! But that's all in the past, and no longer my present so let me not dwell there lest I get lost on the depths of my morphine hell...
As I hang at home & wait for a diagnosis I have time to think about my developing art career. I have a studio of sorts at home, and continue to stock up on supplies. I've thought of a new project that could be super cool - acutally it might be really cool for real, so I'll tell you about it later after I try it, and you can laugh at my silly little (legally) drug induced ideas after the fact and not ruin my fun beforehand... Did you see Party Monster? What about the corresponding Shockumentary? I'm not endorsing them as my all time favorite movies or anything, it's just that there's a book I want to write about the late 80s/early 90s NYC pop culture icons - not the crazy man in jail for killing his dealer, but of that era...don't know why but for some reason it won't leave my mind. There'd be a very limited audience, and considering that I'm a west coaster, and not a gay man, nor very outrageous in my daily life, it might be a bit hard to get the inside scoop. But I still think it'd be interesting - at least it would be interesting to me. Maybe I'll master canvas arts first and then take on the literary world. Oh, oh, oh yeah - I started knitting today. I've decided that once I get the knack of this, with all my new found free time I'm going to knit a blankie for my baby nephew whom I rarely see, but truly adore! Holding him lets me satisfy my maternal cravings for the smell and feel of a baby without incurring any pain or additional costs - the least I can do is make him a blankie since he's saving me at least $100k! Besides, I love the kid.
As I hang at home & wait for a diagnosis I have time to think about my developing art career. I have a studio of sorts at home, and continue to stock up on supplies. I've thought of a new project that could be super cool - acutally it might be really cool for real, so I'll tell you about it later after I try it, and you can laugh at my silly little (legally) drug induced ideas after the fact and not ruin my fun beforehand... Did you see Party Monster? What about the corresponding Shockumentary? I'm not endorsing them as my all time favorite movies or anything, it's just that there's a book I want to write about the late 80s/early 90s NYC pop culture icons - not the crazy man in jail for killing his dealer, but of that era...don't know why but for some reason it won't leave my mind. There'd be a very limited audience, and considering that I'm a west coaster, and not a gay man, nor very outrageous in my daily life, it might be a bit hard to get the inside scoop. But I still think it'd be interesting - at least it would be interesting to me. Maybe I'll master canvas arts first and then take on the literary world. Oh, oh, oh yeah - I started knitting today. I've decided that once I get the knack of this, with all my new found free time I'm going to knit a blankie for my baby nephew whom I rarely see, but truly adore! Holding him lets me satisfy my maternal cravings for the smell and feel of a baby without incurring any pain or additional costs - the least I can do is make him a blankie since he's saving me at least $100k! Besides, I love the kid.
How to Maintain Coherency...
That really is a question rather than an instructional heading. I'm trying to discover the answer on a daily basis.
This whole icky nerve pain/numbness thing has the Drs temporarily (I stress the temporarily part) baffled - as there are few MDs whole like to admit they are without an answer they tend to medicate the crap out of me! I recently started treatment with a Dr outside of the regular insurance loop. When we got to reviewing my meds - he looked at me and asked "Are you sure that's what you're supposed to be taking?" After an affirmative response, and a viewing of the Rx bottles in my bag, he then asked, "Did you drive yourself here?" After yet another referral outside the system, and another increase by those silly neuro docs, this new doc asked "How are you walking??"
Sometimes I wonder myself.
Let me tell you, this isn't the fun and kicks you'd expect from heavy screw you up meds combined with every increasing amounts of heavy screw you up opiates...shall I remind you, I'm just another human being trying to raise a kid on her own, maintain a household, and retain a sense of self respect and individuality.
It's not so easy when you can't open your eyes all the way.
This whole icky nerve pain/numbness thing has the Drs temporarily (I stress the temporarily part) baffled - as there are few MDs whole like to admit they are without an answer they tend to medicate the crap out of me! I recently started treatment with a Dr outside of the regular insurance loop. When we got to reviewing my meds - he looked at me and asked "Are you sure that's what you're supposed to be taking?" After an affirmative response, and a viewing of the Rx bottles in my bag, he then asked, "Did you drive yourself here?" After yet another referral outside the system, and another increase by those silly neuro docs, this new doc asked "How are you walking??"
Sometimes I wonder myself.
Let me tell you, this isn't the fun and kicks you'd expect from heavy screw you up meds combined with every increasing amounts of heavy screw you up opiates...shall I remind you, I'm just another human being trying to raise a kid on her own, maintain a household, and retain a sense of self respect and individuality.
It's not so easy when you can't open your eyes all the way.
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