Stupid snow

If this keeps up, I won't get to see any of my friends except for the brief moments I got to say hello at P's funeral.

::growls::

All the material that was important in one man's life . . .

. . . distilled down to a list two pages long. Just adds to that depression darkening the edges of my vision.

For all their faults, WSU Housing has been great in helping us deal with P's belongings. They spent a couple of days earlier this week packing up everything, and they inventoried as they went. Dad had an appointment at the VA this morning, so afterwards the folks went by the apartment to deal with the oxygen bottles and oxygen concentrator (which had already been picked up, but the home medical company never bothered to call to inform Mom). While there, they picked up the electronic stuff and the list of everything else.

Mom seemed surprised that there were 100+ books and 120-something CDs and DVDs. Why? ::shrugs::

Part of me can't wait to look through everything, treasuring every bit of what's left of him. The other part doesn't even want to look at the boxes, let alone what's in them. It just adds to the reality -- the finality.

Everyone says I'll get through this, but on days like this . . . I don't know.

Happy Christmas to me from the biology department

I just received an email informing me that I received a $1000 research enhancement grant from my department! I'm going to use it to buy a computer for image storage and analysis.

*happy gimp dance*

New Year's Resolutions Early

1. Try to continue with last year's resolution to read at least one book a month. I actually managed to do it most months of this year, but I fell off blogging my reviews as promised. Therefore, I also resolve to more consistently blog my reviews -- despite authors posting whiny comments about me not liking their books (see my 21 March 2007 entry). Wah.

2. Read more disability blog carnivals. I think I'll start with the new one up at Andrea's Buzzing About . . .. Thanks to Kay at The Gimp Parade for always posting links.

3. To do more for myself psychologically and spiritually. I go through periods where I focus solely on my intellectual pursuits, and I know I'm in one of those phases now and have been for well over a year (probably closer to 2+ years). The results are high stress, low immunity, depression, and lack of motivation for the intellectual pursuits. Yup, seeing all of those. I know I can balance between everything because I've done it before. It should be easy for me to follow my spiritual pursuits because I'm living alone again and thus don't have to explain my eclecticism to anyone. In fact, it should be easier for me to study herbalism because I've met and become friends with two women who've been studying herbs for years. I've also met a shaman woman who is very easy to talk to. Basically, I need to do what I've been being told by many of my friends for a couple of months -- I need to take better care of myself.

I'm not entirely certain how I am going to do these three things while doing more with my research, but I know that I have to find that balance. I did it with my masters, and I can do it with my Ph.D.

Now what do I do?

The visitation and funeral are behind us.

Now what am I supposed to do?

There's a part of me that thinks if I don't cry, it won't be real. If I don't cry, I'll outlast this cruel, evil joke and laugh at the prankster, "You didn't fool ME!"

It's childish, I know, but goddammit . . . haven't I the right to be childish? Haven't I the right to yell for my brother back? And why not my sister, too? I don't want to hear people tell me how much he taught them about life or how great a guy he was. I want to watch cheesy B movies with him while eating Cheetos and drinking pop, complaining because we can't figure out what to get Mom for Christmas.

I don't want to be all alone.

In Remembrance

Today is my friend Gina's birthday. She would've been 35. As some of you may remember, she died from pneumonia in May. Spinal muscular atrophy and respiratory problems do not mix.

I miss her almost every single day. When you've known someone since you were eight years old, she becomes a major factor in your life. You overlook annoyances that would cause splits with other friends. As we grew older, we had less and less in common, but we were still always there for each other.

I miss you, Gina Bina.

From Jess

Since I'm technically on a cusp, I fudged a bit to get both.

Lets101 - Free Online Dating

Lets101 - Free Online Dating

I am sick and tired . . .

. . . of people in the medical community acting like I'm trying to get over on someone/thing. I didn't get a blood clot because I thought it would be a hoot, people! If I had, I damn sure would've done it in the Summer so I wouldn't have to jump through all your ridiculous hoops (four or five times because no one communicates with anyone else) only to find out that you won't give me my needed meds or analyze my blood because I'm not a Louisiana resident. Gee, you're treating me so hospitably that I think I'll convert tomorrow!

How any bad things can wonky breathing indicate?

Last Sunday I was watching some of my taped programs when I felt a tightness in my upper chest and a shortness of breath. Sometimes I can ignore my asthma and it goes away, so I kept watching "Criminal Minds" and "CSI: NY." After the shows were over, I was still feeling off, so I took my inhaler. Nothing. When my attendant Sarah got here, I starting thinking about going to an ER to get my blood pH checked (remembering my metabolic acidosis of a year and a half ago). Sarah checked to see if Charity Hospital had reopened after the storm, but it hadn't. University Hospital has somewhat taken its place in that the poor, uninsured, and under-insured go there. My Medicaid only covers me in Kansas, and I don't want to lose my suite of amazing doctors by transferring it to Louisiana -- therefore I fall into the uninsured category while I live here. So University it was.

My friend Erika drove me, and we got there at about 1830. Normally the staff only allows family back in the rooms with a patient, but I pleaded. I had the sense things were going to be strange there, and I wanted moral support as well as someone I knew would add her voice to mine if need be.

So here is 14 hours, yes, 14 hours of ER time in a short summary to determine if I had a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in my lung):

-- seven IV attempts (with bruises to show for every one)
-- six different med students/interns/residents/full-blown doctors
-- chest x-ray
-- attempted contrast CT scan (my IV blew when they were administering the dye, puffing my arm to nearly twice its size)
-- full blood work up
-- urine analysis
-- blood gas
-- ultrasound of both legs

The ultimate diagnosis -- I had a blood clot behind my left knee. This is more than likely due to my sedentary nature (i.e., being in a wheelchair), but the part that irks me is that I have been taking an aspirin a day for years now to prevent this. ::sigh::

So I was admitted and started on anti-coagulants, but not before I lost my cool with a nurse at about 0600. This particular nurse, we'll call her Nurse Ratchett, was helping me get on the bedpan for the second time, and she put me on crooked (again). I told her as much and nicely asked her and the other nurse who was also helping to please adjust me. Nurse Ratchett quite unceramoniously jerked apart my legs (like she did the first bedpan round), looked at my crotch somewhat over the bedpan opening, and declared that I was fine (as she had previously). OK, I had had no sleep, had experienced this with her before, and was stressed (I still hadn't been diagnosed). I looked up at the ceiling, and said, "You know, I'm really getting tired of people telling me what's fine with my body."

Ratchett: No one's doing that.
Me: You just did. I said I was crooked, and you said I was fine.
Ratchett: Well, you're on the bedpan.
Me: Yes, I'm on it, but I'm crooked. I won't be able to pee if you don't adjust me.
Ratchett (with an exaggerated sigh): If you go off the side, we can change the sheets.
Me: I'm not going to pee off the side. I'm not going to pee at all.
Ratchett: You're fine.
Me: Lady, I've been living in this body for 36 years, and I know how I need to be situated on a bedpan to pee.
Ratchett (with a bigger put-upon sigh and an eye roll): Ma'am, I don't know why you're so upset. We're just trying to help you.
Me: No, you're not. You're trying to get by with what's easiest for you and not listening to me when I tell you what I need.
Ratchett (with yet another sigh): Well, what do you want?

Contast that with a couple of days later when I got to be the one who helped a nursing instructor teach five students how to change sheets with the patient still occupying the bed. I was instructing two students on how to support my bad knee and on the easiest way to roll me when the instructor called everyone's attention to what I was doing. "Always always ALWAYS listen to the patient, especially one with a disability," she said. "They know their bodies better than anyone. If you listen to them and do exactly as they tell you, you won't hurt them."

The only other incident of note was on my last night in (I was there four days). My friends who were babysitting Reba brought her to see me to help me with my stress, and security refused her access. I had anticipated this, so I had instructed my friends on what to say (she's an assistance dog, ADA allows her access, yadda yadda). The fellows working the door, who I have lovingly dubbed Einstein and Galileo for their amazing intelligence and forward-thinking, rather than just admitting they'd never experienced this before and calling for help, started making up reasons why they wouldn't let her in. My friend Kim's favorites were:

-- if she'd had the dog with her when she was admitted, we'd let the dog in
-- if the dog were yours [Kim's or William's], we'd let it in
-- if she were getting discharged, we'd let you take it up

William called to tell me what was going on, and I told him to put Einstein and Galileo on the phone. Naturally, they did not want to talk to me, but the threat of irate gimp finally kicked their shared brain into motion, and they called the nursing administrator on duty to enlist her help. She came to my room (with Galileo practically clutching her skirt) to tell me she was attempting to locate the hospital's policy on assistance animals as a CYA measure. In the meantime, I called Naomi for my own CYA measure, making sure I knew what to do to handle this properly and efficiently -- I was tired, hungry, sore, and stressed, and I needed someone calm to remind me of what I already knew. When Ms. N came back, she told me she had been unable to locate the written policy and could not let me bring my dog in without the policy in hand or a hospital administrator's permission. She apologized profusely and asked me many detailed and excellent questions about my disability and what my dog does for me. Like many people in this part of the country, she was only vaguely familiar with assistance dogs, but she knew enough to realize Reba will not be the last assistance animal the hospital sees. She told me she was going right back to her office to email her supervisor, the patient advocate, and the hospital administrator. I gave her my cell number and asked her to include it in the email along with my offer to help the administrators determine if their policy was in accordance with ADA law or to help them write a policy if the hospital did not have one.

The next morning, the patient advocate, Ms. C., called and also asked many excellent questions about assistance animals in general and Reba in particular. While she was searching for the policy, she offered to try to find some way of accomodating me seeing Reba if I did not get out that day as anticipated. That afternoon, she called me again to say she had found the ADA law. She had also found the hospital policy and it exactly matched the federal law to allow an assistance animal access to a patient's room. She thanked me for being patient and for helping educate her and others about assistance animals. She told me they would implement an education program for their staff so this wouldn't happen again, and afterwards she would send me a letter to tell me what they had done. I thanked her for her swift attention and help. I'm going to call her this week and offer to help with their staff education.

This weekend has been spent recuperatng from a lousy bed and lack of sleep. I have to take an anti-coagulant for six months with clotting time monitored every week for the first month and once a month for every month after that. The up-side is that my dad will not be allowed to "teeny pinch" me when I go home for Christmas.

Today's Warm Fuzzy

Originally seen linked from The 19th Floor, this story on Puppies Behind Bars. This is what rehabilitation should be.

Plug your name into Shakespeare

Fear no more the heat o'the Dawn
Nor the furious winter's rages.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

Get your own quotes:

Another from Lynlee

1. Name someone who made you smile today?
All my bio colleagues welcoming me back after my stint in the hospital

2. What were you doing at 8:00 this morning?
Finishing getting ready to go to the office

3. What did you eat last night?
Spinach and feta pizza

4. What was something that happened to you in 1997?
I went to San Francisco for free, and I defended my master's thesis

5. What are you looking for?
A sense of balance

6. Three words to explain why you last threw up.
Maybe motion sickness (from being in bed for four days and having thin blood?)

7. What color is your hairbrush?
One is purple and the other is black

8. What was the last thing you bought?
Powdered doughnuts from the candy machine -- I forgot to take breakfast to the office

9. What was the last gift you received?
Love and concern from my friends

10. What color is your front door?
Black

11. Where do you keep your money?
Mostly in the bank, a few dollars in my coin purse

12. What was the weather like today?
Cool and overcast

13. Where did your last hug take place?
The office

14. What are you excited about?
Going home for Christmas

15. When was the last time you sneezed?
Earlier today

16. What size shoe do you wear?
4-4.5

17. Do you like spinach
Oh, yeah

18. Are you very random?
Not especially

19. Do you want to cut your hair?
It could use a trim

20. Are you over the age of 25?
Yes

21. Do you talk a lot?
When I'm tired or goofy on Lortab

22. Do you watch The O.C.? Absolutely not
Do priests make good babysitters? What kind of question is that, and what does it have to do with "The O.C."?

23. Does your screen name have an “x” in it?
No

24. Do you know anyone named Kelsey? No
How do you feel about question 18? I don't care

25. Do you make up your own words?
Yes -- groovational

26. Are you ticklish?
No

27. Are you typically a jealous person?
Not especially

28. Where do you work?
UNO

29. Your latest obsession?
Sleep

30. Who’s the last person to call you?
William

31. Do you like high heels?
No

32. Do you chew on your straws?
No

33. Do you have curly hair?
No

34. What is the next concert you’re going to?
No idea

35. Are you a flirt? No
Do you want me to be baby? You're creeping me out

36. How many times have you sworn today?
More than twice

37. What is something you say a lot?
Groovy

38. Do you like to sleep?
Yes, especially since my hospital stay

39. Have you seen the movie ‘Donnie Darko’?
Part of it -- creeped me out

40. Do you have to work tomorrow?
Every day is a work day for a grad student

41. Last person you hung out with?
Kim

42. Who was the last person to say “I love you” to you?
Kim

43. What should you be doing right now?
Drinking more water

44. Do you have a nickname?
Yes

45. Are you a heavy sleeper?
Sometimes

46. What time is it?
2236 Central

47. What is the best movie you’ve seen in the past two weeks?
Office Space

48. Is there anyone you like right now?
No

49. When was the last time you did the dishes, honestly?
Years ago, when I lived in the dorms

50. Did you cry today?
No -- did enough of that yesterday

Exchanges that make me giggle

From tonight's "Stargate Atlantis"



Ronin: Don't worry. They're primitive.

McKay: Define primitive.

Ronin: Clubs and arrows.

McKay: Hey! Arrows can hurt!

Ronin: Only if you're stupid enough to get hit in the ass by one.

Stolen from Lynlee

Sorry no recent posts. Have good reason. Will explain later. Until then --


Your true color is Brown!

You're brown, a credible, stable color that's reminiscent of fine wood, rich leather, and wistful melancholy. Most likely, you're a logical, practical person ruled more by your head than your heart. With your inquisitive mind and insatiable curiosity, you're probably a great problem solver. And you always gather all of the facts before coming to a timely, informed decision. Easily intrigued, you're constantly finding new ways to challenge your mind, whether it's by reading the newspaper, playing a trivia game, or composing a piece of music. Brown is an impartial, neutral color, which means you tend to see the difference between fact and opinion easily and are open to many points of view. Trustworthy and steady, you really are a brown at heart.

What True Color Are You?

Happy Halloween!

Thought I'd share a few Halloween pics with you. I don't know how my camera got switched to b&w, but they still look groovy. A few grad students decided to dress up as endangered species, hand out tips for having a "green" Halloween (turning off lights when you leave a room, taking your own mug to a coffeeshop, etc.), and have a bake sale to raise money to spay/neuter the stray cats on campus (yes, we have A LOT). My attendant Dynele's roommate is a film major specializing in makeup/special effects, and she helped me with my horn and makeup. Thanks Annelies!


Maybe there's a reason they're endangered




A side view




The Campus Cats bake sale. "Would you like to buy some baked goods? A caramel apple?"




Andrea (on-DRAY-uh), the elephant




Ivonne, the spectacled bear




Kim, auditioning for the Cheetah Girls

It's a boy!

My friend Marlo has finally popped out her offspring -- yesterday at 7:15 p.m., 42 weeks gestation (that's about a month and a half overdue). She had a totally natural home birth surrounded by friends, of which Reba and I were two. I will give details later after I have had more sleep and time to process. But for now, please allow me to sum up the experience with one word.

WHOA!!!

How many contract repairmen does it take . . .

. . . to fix a crappy cable Internet connection?

At one point -- four.

And it's still not up to par.

If you haven't already . . .

. . . you MUST see this right now (thanks, L, for having it in your blog). Watch the judges' reactions when Mr. Potts announces what he's there to do, then grab a hankie/Kleenex. I freaking cry every time I watch it.

Earth Teach Me to Remember

Earth Teach Me to Remember
by John Yellow Lark

Earth teach me stillness as the grasses are stilled with light.

Earth teach me suffering as old stones suffer with memory.

Earth teach me humility as blossoms are humble with beginning.

Earth Teach me caring as the mother who secures her young.

Earth teach me courage as the tree which stands alone.

Earth teach me limitation as the ant which crawls on the ground.

Earth teach me freedom as the eagle which soars in the sky.

Earth teach me resignation as the leaves which die in the fall.

Earth teach me regeneration as the seed which rises in the spring.

Earth teach me to forget myself as melted snow forgets its life.

Earth teach me to remember kindness as dry fields weep in the rain.

Addendum to Tattoo Post

In order to answer Kim's questions.

What do they [the parentals' tats] signify?

The simple answer for Mom's -- I have no clue. I know she wanted the faery's face to be "hidden" because her chosen artist admitted he is no good at faces.

As for Dad's, my take on it is that it's a combo of his two interests -- the Old West and our family's Lakota heritage. Note the stars on the band. Those look like Texas Ranger badges, and Dad reads/watches anything related to them. Buffalo skulls are used in a lot of Old West and Native American art and such (Dad also has a large buffafo skull window decal on his truck topper's back window). The feather's pretty obvious now, eh?


And more importantly, when are you getting yours???

I think I'm going to talk to the guy when I go home for Christmas. I have ideas for two tats. One tat (known placement) is my envisioned combination of two of my known heritages: Lakota and Celtic/Scottish. The other tat (unknown placement) will be representations of my sister and brother.

Revelations

Regarding the news about Dumbledore: I really can't say anything that Mark Siegler hasn't already said at The 19th Floor. I even love his entry title.

Regarding J.K.'s reading here in NO the day before: Those kids got more than they bargained for!

My Folks

My parents have gotten new identifying marks. For the record:


My mom's





My dad's

Wooing MEN isn't my strong suit, either!

Your results:
You are Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic)

Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic) 100% Malcolm Reynolds (Captain) 65% Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic) 60% Derrial Book (Shepherd) 60% Zoe Washburne (Second-in-command) 55% River (Stowaway) 50% Jayne Cobb (Mercenary) 45% Wash (Ship Pilot) 30% Inara Serra (Companion) 25% Alliance 20% A Reaver (Cannibal) 10%

Medicine and physical healing are your game, but wooing women isn't a strong suit.

Click here to take the Serenity Firefly Personality Test

Lessons from St. Bernard

I went to a baby shower for my friend Marlo today (who, incidentally, passed her plug right before the party) in St. Bernard Parish (=county) just south of us here in NO. Besides Marlo and the two people who picked me up, I knew one other person in probably 30 total. It so didn't matter.

When I think of people being a community, these people are it. They don't care about color, they don't care that you're not originally from "the parish" or NO or even Louisiana, they don't care if you walk or you don't. Everyone is chere, everyone gets a hug and a kiss, everyone (even the chick they just met five minutes ago) is community if they're a friend of a friend's friend. Even a little girl whose name I never learned came up and hugged me.

Here's the amazing part -- they're all still in FEMA trailers. The empty lots where houses had to be demolished are overgrown. There are hardly any businesses open. Two years later. These people have every right to be angry or at the very least bitter, but they aren't. They laugh and they hug and they play dopey baby shower games and they eat and they pass their gorgeous babies around for pinches and kisses. It's not all rosy, but they make do -- and they make do with a smile and a hug and a "come back anytime, chere."

If only more people could spend an afternoon/evening in St. Bernard.

I'm left-brained -- who's surprised?

This is supposed to test whether you are right- or left-brained. Please check it out and then post in comments which direction she turned for you. I'm interested in knowing if she's actually perceived as going in either direction.

First seen on The 19th Floor.

EUReKA Season Finale -- SPOILER ALERT

I was robbed! I read at the start of this season of EUReKA that the Carter-Allison-Stark situation would definitely be resolved. It wasn't. And I don't like the way they're trying to make us think it will go.

I'll be so upset if Henry is permanently gone.

Does anyone know how long I'll have to wait for next season? I swear if it's next Summer again, I will scream loud enough to deafen the entire parish.

Meme from Jess

GALADRIEL

Possessing a rare combination of wisdom and humility, while serenely dominating your environment you selflessly use your powers to care for others.

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

People piss me off

It well and truly pisses me off when people don't do what they say they will. You want to quit because after three days you decided wiping someone else's butt isn't for you? Fine. You say you're going to help me until I find someone to replace you?

Then do it.

Show up when you say you're going to. Don't decide a couple of shifts after that to just not show up and not call -- ESPECIALLY after I thanked you for being honest and quitting rather than just not showing up and not calling.

I can't even blame it on her age (19) because I have two other attendants (barely 20) who have both been honest and don't pull this airhead BS. They might not have always been available when I needed them in the year they've worked for me, but they have NEVER failed to show for a shift without a call.

And this at the end of a day where I accomplished nothing because I was fighting depression.

Stupid children.

What your name means

There are 21 letters in your name.
Those 21 letters total to 86
There are 7 vowels and 14 consonants in your name.

What your first name means:
English Female Aurora. The first appearance of daylight; daybreak. Dawn. From the English word dawn.
Anglo-Saxon Female Awakening.


Your number is: 5

The characteristics of #5 are: Expansiveness, visionary, adventure, the constructive use of freedom.

The expression or destiny for #5:
The number 5 Expression endows with the wonderful characteristic of multi-talents and versatility. You can do so many things well. The tone of the number 5 is constructive freedom, and in your drive to attain this freedom, you will likely be the master of adaptability and change. You are good at presenting ideas and knowing how to approach people to get what you want. Naturally, this gives you an edge in any sort of selling game and spells easy success when it comes to working with people in most jobs. Your popularity may lead you toward some form of entertainment or amusement. Whatever you do, you are clever, analytical, and a very quick thinker.

If there is too much of the 5 energy in your makeup, you may express some the negative attitudes of the number. Your restless and impatient attitude may keep you from staying with any project for too long. Sometimes you can be rather erratic and scatter yourself and your energies. You have a hard time keeping regular office hours and maintaining any sort of a routine. You tend to react strongly if you sense that your freedom of speech or action is being impaired or restricted in any way. As clever as you are, you may have a tendency to make the same mistakes over and over again because much of your response is glib reaction rather that thoughtful application. You are in a continuous state of flux brought by constantly changing interests.

Your Soul Urge number is: 9

A Soul Urge number of 9 means:
With a 9 Soul Urge, you want to give to others, usually in a humanitarian or philanthropic manner. You are highly motivated to give friendship, affection and love. And you are generous in giving of your knowledge and experience. You have very sharing urges, and you are likely to have a great deal to share. Your concern for others makes you a very sympathetic and generous person with a sensitive and compassionate nature.

You are able to view life in very broad and intuitive terms. You often express high ideals and an inspirational approach to life. If you are able to fully realize the potential of your motivation, you will be a very self-sacrificing person who is able to give freely without being concerned about any return or reward.

As with all human beings, you are prone to sometimes express the negative attitudes inherent to your Soul Urges. You may become too sensitive and tend to express emotions strongly at times. There can be significant conflict between higher aims and personal ambitions. You may resent the idea of giving all of the time and, in fact, if there is too much 9 energy in your nature you may reject the idea. You may often be disappointed in the lack of perfection in yourself and others.

Your Inner Dream number is: 5

An Inner Dream number of 5 means:
You dream of being totally free and unrestrained by responsibility. You see yourself conversing and mingling with the natives in many nations, living for adventure and life experiences. You imagine what you might accomplished.


Find out what your name means here

What Symbol are You?

What is your SYMBOL?

You are a CASTLE!! Strong, you care about protecting the people you love. You find that you can be a comfort to your family as you seek out spiritual enlightenment. Many people find you to be a refuge. You find it hard to fall in love, but when you do, all bets are off! Loved ones, find it hard to enter in your heart, as that is where you focus all of your desires. You keep all of your feelings well-guarded.
Take this quiz!








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Lakyn Pictures

Lakyn Frances





The Whole Family

Welcome to the world, new little cousin

My cousin Josh and his wife Kyla had their baby girl this morning at 12:33 -- after 18 hours of induced labor.

And people wonder why I don't want to have children.

Lakyn Frances A. was 8 pounds 8 ounces and 21 inches long. She is Josh's third child and Kyla's first. Frances was Kyla's grandmother, and Josh couldn't remember how they came up with Lakyn. They "just wanted something unique." With a son named Hadley (7 years old) and a daughter named Jenika (6 years old next month), he's just sticking to his pattern. I like it. I will post pics when I get some.

Quick post

No internet at home and a hundred things to do in the office, so a few quick notes.

Moved to the new apartment on Tuesday. Like it so much better.

Also had an accident on Tuesday. New attendant (only her 4th day) was turning the lift on the strange, thicker carpet, when the lift tipped over. Amazingly, with the apartment in total disarray and thus so many things I could have fallen on, I only fell on the floor. Nothing twisted, jammed, broken, or otherwise damaged -- my guardians were on duty and sharp that day, bless 'em! My neck was sore the next day, but yesterday and today I'm back to my semblance of normal. I'm still claiming "head injury" whenever I have a brain-fart because it's fun! ::grin:: Yes, the attendant wanted to quit, but I think I've coaxed her out of it. The damn lift is just unsteady when the legs are together, the carpet is thick, and she is too small a person (literally about 90-95 pounds and lucky if she's five feet tall) to have stopped the momentum. S--- happens, but no one got hurt. Moving on.

Can't find Reba's cape. I remember exactly where we put it during the move, but it's not there now. It's not anywhere (yes, I'm completely unpacked except for books). The company takes 4-6 weeks to get you a vest (cape) because each one is handmade to your desire. I could get one in about two weeks if I get a patch instead of embroidery, but the patch won't look as nice on the purple cape. ::sigh:: I don't know what I'm going to do.

Dropping stats. Too much calculus, too much theory, too many proofs, not enough programming instruction to analyze data. I guess I'll just have to teach myself.

OK, I need to walk up to Walgreens for Mucinex. See ya!

Groovy gimp videos

This first is thanks to my friend Kim. This one was posted by the same person.

Now if my apartment complex would learn a lesson from these. Maybe if I say the automated door is for enrichment?

Moving

Well, I'm moving to an efficiency apartment within the complex. I don't consider it a capitulation to the management because:

1. I will continue to pay the exact same amount of rent I am paying now, not a slightly increased amount ($553/month, not $580) or even the actual efficiency price ($908 during aademic year, $764 in Summer).

2. They are ripping up the cheap, stained, nasty carpeting and replacing it with vinyl so that it doesn't snag on Reba's nails.

3. The PP staff will be moving my stuff from one apartment to another.

4. I will still rent furniture from them rather than having to buy some.


There are also decided advantages in this for me:

1. I will never EVER get a roommate.

2. The building is quieter.

3. This particular building is the only one in the complex that has its own gated parking lot accessed by a clicker given only to residents of the building.

4. The handicap spot is an honest-to-goodness van accessible spot, meaning that even if someone is parked in the other gimp spot, I can still get in and out of Moby without having to back her out of the parking space.

5. My window faces South, so I will have tons of light.

6. I have a little strip of concrete patio outside my second door that is mine all mine! I actually have space for plants/herbs and plenty of light with which to grow them.

7. The energy of this apartment is dramatically different than my current apartment. I feel comfortable in it.

I move on Tuesday. And I also have the marketing director trying to help me get my primary door automated.

Farewell and peace on your journey, Signor Maestro

Crowd mourns Pavarotti in his hometown
By TRISHA THOMAS and COLLEEN BARRY, Associated Press Writer

MODENA, Italy - Admirers massed by the hundreds in Modena's main piazza Thursday night to pay their final respects to Luciano Pavarotti, the tenor cherished by many as "the last, great voice" of Italian opera.


The crowd applauded as pallbearers carried the white casket into the cathdral, where a funeral Saturday will draw dignitaries from opera, politics and culture. The tenor died early Thursday in his hometown at age 71 after a yearlong battle with pancreatic cancer.

While Pavarotti moved the world with a wonderous voice, his legacy went beyond the opera house. The tenor collaborated with classical singers and pop icons alike to bring opera to the masses, rescuing the art from highbrow obscurity in the process.

In many ways, Pavarotti fulfilled the public's imagination of what an opera star should be. He often wore a colorful scarf and a hat, be it a fedora or a beret, and while he didn't always have a beard, it was hard to imagine him without it. His heft — as well as a restaurant on his property in Modena — underlined his gourmet appetite.

But above all, his crystal clear voice, prized for its diction, made him the most celebrated tenor since Caruso. "Pavarotti was the last great Italian voice able to move the world," said Bruno Cagli, president of the Santa Cecilia National Academy in Rome.

On the Piazza Grande, hundreds of people gathered for the first evening of public viewing. Police on horseback stood at attention as mourners shuffled up the steps into the cathedral to view Pavarotti, dressed in his trademark white tie and tails, a white handkerchief and white rosary clutched in his hands.

His wife, Nicoletta Mantovani, stood off to the side of the casket, chatting calmly with well-wishers.

The atmosphere wasn't sad or tearful but warm, as Modena residents celebrated their native son, many bringing their children to see what they said was an unforgettable moment for the city and world.

Simone Sarrau, 32, waited in line until nearly midnight to pay his respects.

"He's a symbol. He's a symbol of Modena, a symbol of Italy, he's international," Sarrau said. "I think this demonstration of affection is justified, and it's not just Modena its in the whole world. He's a one-of-a-kind. There's only him, and there will always only be him."

Mayor Giorgia Pighi said the singer had been a beacon for the city.

"Thanks to Luciano Pavarotti, the name of Modena has gone around the world as the name of a city much bigger than it actually is," Pighi told Associated Press Television News before the casket arrived.

The viewing was scheduled to end at midnight and then resume Friday at 6 a.m. and last, but for a few hours of closure overnight, until shortly before the funeral.

Authorities planned for a massive outpouring of grief: Giant television screens were to be set up near the cathedral where Italian Premier Romano Prodi, among others, would pay their final respects.

From the world of music, tenor Andrea Bocelli planned to sing the hymn "Panis angelicus" at the service, the ANSA news agency reported.

Within hours of Pavarotti's death, Modena authorities had posted information on the city Web site detailing the extraordinary public transport services that would be put in place to help get mourners from parking lots to the city center for Saturday's service.

Amid an outpouring of tributes, the Vienna State Opera raised a black flag in mourning and the Guards band at Buckingham Palace played Pavarotti's signature aria "Nessun Dorma" at the Changing of the Guard ceremony.

In his heyday, Pavarotti was known as "the King of the High C's" for his ease at hitting the top notes. The Venezuelan soprano Ines Salazar recalled hearing him warm up backstage and thinking it was a recording. Even when critics complained he had lost his voice, audiences didn't mind.

While opera lovers treasure recordings with soprano Joan Sutherland, Pavarotti slipped into the CD collections of the hipper set mixing notes with Elton John, the Spice Girls, Cheryl Crow and Liza Minnelli, among others.

He was the best-selling classical artist, with more than 100 million records sold since the 1960s, and he had the first classical album to reach No. 1 on the pop charts.

U2 frontman Bono said Pavarotti was "a great volcano of a man who sang fire but spilled over with a love of life in all its complexity."

"No one could inhabit those acrobatic melodies and words like him. He lived the songs, his opera was a great mash of joy and sadness; surreal and earthy at the same time," Bono said in a statement. "Even when the voice was dimmed in power, his interpretative skills left him a giant among a few tall men."

Some of the greatest opera stars were in his debt — from the young talent whom he fostered to Spanish tenor Jose Carreras, who said Pavarotti had supported him in moments of difficulty, including his battle with leukemia. Some would argue opera owed itself to "Big Luciano."

"When I wanted to construct the Bastille opera house in Paris about 30 years ago, they told me I was crazy. Opera was dead, they said," former French Culture Minister Jack Lang told the news agency ANSA. "Pavarotti returned opera to popularity and contributed to its rebirth."

Pavarotti sought to commercialize opera, scoffing at accusations that he was sacrificing art. He relished that the hugely successful "Three Tenors" concerts with Placido Domingo and Carreras reached 1.5 billion people, filling stadiums.

In his 1995 autobiography: "Pavarotti: My World," he said the first of the "Three Tenors" concerts was a major event for each man. "I hope I am not immodest to think it was also unforgettable for most of the people who were present."

In a statement from Los Angeles, Domingo said he "always admired the God-given glory of his voice — that unmistakable special timbre from the bottom up to the very top of the tenor range." In Germany, Carreras told reporters he was "one of the greatest tenors ever."

"We all hoped for a miracle ... but unfortunately that was not possible," Carreras said.

Pavarotti was born Oct. 12, 1935, the son of a baker who was an amateur singer. He had a meager upbringing, though he said it was rich with happiness. In his teens, Pavarotti joined his father, also a tenor, in the church choir and local opera chorus. He trained to become a teacher, but at age 20, he took part with the Modena chorus in an international music competition in Wales. When the group won first place, Pavarotti began to dedicate himself to singing.

With the encouragement of his then-fiancee, Adua, he started lessons, selling insurance to pay for them. In 1961, Pavarotti won a local competition. He followed with a series of successes in small European opera houses before his 1963 debut at Covent Garden in London, where he stood in for Giuseppe Di Stefano as Rodolfo in Puccini's "La Boheme."

Having impressed conductor Richard Bonynge, Pavarotti was given a role opposite Bonynge's wife, Sutherland, in a production of "Lucia di Lammermoor" and, then, in a tour. It was the recognition Pavarotti needed. He also credited Sutherland with teaching him how to breathe correctly.

Debuts followed at La Scala in Milan in 1965, San Francisco in 1967 and New York's Metropolitan Opera in 1968. Pavarotti, who had been trained as a lyric tenor, began taking on heavier dramatic roles.

In the mid-1970s, Pavarotti became a true media star. He appeared in television commercials and began singing in hugely lucrative mega-concerts outdoors and in stadiums around the world. Soon came joint concerts with pop stars.

His name seemed to show up as much in gossip columns as in serious music reviews, particularly after he split with Adua Veroni, his wife of 35 years and mother of their three daughters, and took up with his 26-year-old secretary in 1996.

In late 2003, he married Nicoletta Mantovani in a lavish, star-studded ceremony. Pavarotti said their daughter, Alice, nearly a year old at the time of the wedding, was the main reason they finally wed after years together.

He was pained when he made headlines for tax evasion, saying he couldn't bear not to be seen as a good person, and reached a deal with authorities to repay roughly $12 million to the Italian government.

He had as many nicknames as hats. To some, he was simply "the Maestro." To his countrymen, he was "Big Luciano," beloved for both his talent and for spreading across the globe an image of Italian style and flair, a man at ease on the arm of Princess Diana as he was under a stadium spotlight.

And yet, at heart, he was a local boy. Pavarotti returned to his native Modena to convalesce after falling ill this summer, receiving a steady stream of well-wishers, including local officials and businessmen.

His oncologist, Antonio Frassoldati, said Pavarotti remained "serene" even as his medical condition worsened, and fought until the end. "I was struck by his character, his desire to live and to be involved in every decision," Frassoldati told Sky Tg24.

When he died before dawn Thursday, his wife, Nicoletta, four daughters and sister were among those at his side, manager Terri Robson said.

Pavarotti himself was clear on his legacy. "I think a life in music is a life beautifully spent, and this is what I have devoted my life to," he said in a quote posted on his Web site after his death Thursday.

This is because I just couldn't get into DS9, isn't it?

What does it mean?

You watch one or two series, but you don't try to impress your neighbors with your trivia knowledge. You're a fan, but you try not to take it too far.


At least I'm an officer. I wasn't into DS9, I didn't get to watch Voyager much, and I've never seen an episode of Enterprise. But let me see TOS or TNG, and I can tell you everything that will happen in the ep within the first two minutes. Will SFI still let me in?

Although I DID try Earl Grey the first time because of Jean-Luc. That gives me five bonus geeky points, yeah?

Presentations and Publications

I am now officially committed to giving a fifteen minute presentation at the Gulf Coast Conservation Biology Symposium being held on the 28th here in town. Well, it'll actually be about ten minutes because we have to allow time for questions. I'm going to give a brief (i.e., extremely watered down) summary of how FA is used in conservation and how research needs to be improved so it can be used more effectively. That last bit is the new drum I'm beating since it is the basis for my dissertation.

So, tell me if this sounds like a young, sexy, totally amazing biologist is going to be talking with you today:

Fluctuating Asymmetry as a Conservation Tool

Fluctuating asymmetry (FA), the random deviation from perfect bilateral symmetry, has been used in a variety of field and laboratory studies as an indicator of developmental stress. FA differs from other, genetically determined asymmetry types in that it can be influenced by the environmental conditions in which development occurs. FA has been investigated as a conservation tool in nearly all taxa, and many scientists conducting these studies assert that FA can be used as a general indicator of stress, i.e., different classes of exogenous stressors can cause bilateral asymmetry. One survey of the available fish literature shows that to date this claim has not been validated. One way to investigate if FA is a general indicator of developmental stress would be to expose a single species to different classes of stressor and determine if FA is exhibited to the same degree.


So? Are you ready to listen to more about my brilliant work? ::grin::

Speaking of brilliant work, my review article was rejected. It was a long shot getting it in to Biological Reviews, but it was worth a shot. When I get settled more and have a chance to get caught up in stats, I'll read the reviewers' comments, work on it some more, and resubmit it somewhere else. It's good stuff, dammit!

Oh, dear Higher, please no!

New Orleans mayor may run for governor
By JOHN MORENO GONZALES, Associated Press Writer

NEW ORLEANS - Mayor Ray Nagin could be days away from announcing he will run for governor of Louisiana - a move many in this stricken city regard as preposterous.

If Nagin runs, he will do so on his stewardship of New Orleans. But this is a city in great distress two years after Hurricane Katrina, with large swaths still empty, an appalling murder rate and a painfully sluggish recovery. Nagin's disapproval rating stood at 65 percent in a recent poll.

"He's clearly seeing his election potential differently than most of Louisiana. Statewide, Ray Nagin is dead in the water," said G. Pearson Cross, an assistant professor of politics at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. "One thing is clear: New Orleans has not had the forceful and dynamic leadership necessary to get recovery on the right track."

But Nagin, in a City Hall interview late last month, struck an optimistic note.

"What I'd like to make sure everybody understands around America is that this city is overcoming a lot of odds. It's like a miracle city in some respects," New Orleans' fourth black mayor said. "Our citizens are doing incredible things out there in spite of a lack of resources, or broken promises."

A member of Nagin's inner circle told The Associated Press last month that the second-term Democratic mayor planned to announce a run for governor shortly after Labor Day. He has already taken several fundraising trips, and his technical adviser secured the Internet address naginforgovernor.com.

Of the possibility of a run for higher office, the 51-year-old Nagin said: "The only way I would do something like that is if I thought it would help this recovery."

The sign-up period for the Oct. 20 election ballot opened Tuesday and runs through Thursday, with Republican Rep. Bobby Jindal — the front-runner in all the recent polls — the first one to get into the race to succeed Democratic Gov. Kathleen Blanco, who decided not to seek re-election after she was widely criticized as weak and indecisive following Katrina. Democratic state Sen. Walter Boasso of hard-hit St. Bernard Parish is also runnning.

Nagin's detractors call him ineffective and bristle at the thought that he would consider higher office with nearly three years left on his term, city services in traction, and the black community that re-elected him suffering acutely since the storm. Privately, some said they suspect Nagin knows he has little chance but wants to use the publicity to ensure a political future in Louisiana.

In an Aug. 21 editorial, New Orleans' Times-Picayune newspaper wondered: "Why is he worrying about all this just now, when he's got so much else on his plate?"

But Nagin points to areas where he believes he has made a difference, citing the population's rebound to 60 percent of its pre-Katrina level. Nagin boasted that higher police salaries have led to the biggest recruiting class since the hurricane, and added that a new garbage contract has cleaned up the French Quarter and helped keep the city's tourism-based economy rolling.

But David Bell, a juvenile court judge and community leader in mostly black eastern New Orleans, said Nagin's efforts are often seen as incremental and misdirected. Bell alluded to Nagin's hiring of planner Ed Blakely as his recovery chief, and Blakely's promise of "cranes in the sky" that have yet to be seen.

"It's great to have large vision. But I think right now the public is more concerned about potholes, and the sewer lines, and the water lines," Bell said. "Those are the things that restore faith."

Publicly accessible records of Nagin's daily calendar are not detailed enough to show how he spends his workday, but it appears he has no communication left with the governor's office. State records show he has met formally with Blanco only once in the past six months.

Marie Centanni, a spokeswoman for Blanco, would not comment on Nagin's performance as mayor or possible bid for governor, other than to say: "He sounds as if he's already running." A spokesman for another Nagin target, Don Powell, federal coordinator for the Gulf Coast rebuilding, declined to comment.

Nagin, a janitor's son who grew up in New Orleans' Creole neighborhood of Treme, was a cable TV executive with an MBA from Tulane University before he was elected in 2002 with strong support from the white business elite. He soon delivered on promises to crack down on City Hall graft.

But after Katrina, he was bitterly criticized for not evacuating the city sooner, and many wrote him off after his emotional, sometimes ranting, calls for federal help in the aftermath of the storm. Nevertheless, he scored a surprising re-election last year. This time, working-class blacks were his base.

Since the storm, he has made eyes roll and alienated many voters with some of his off-the-cuff remarks, including assurances that mostly black New Orleans would always be a "Chocolate City."

More recently, he said that news coverage of the city's violent crime has at least one advantage — it "keeps the New Orleans brand out there, and it keeps people thinking about our needs and what we need to bring this community back."

Some voters, though, say they see larger truths in the comments known around here as "Naginisms." For example, Katrina has pushed rents out of the reach of the working-class blacks who have defined the city.

Brigid Harrison, a law and political science professor at Montclair State University in New Jersey, studied Nagin's response to Katrina versus New York Mayor Rudolph Giuliani's handling of the World Trade Center attack. She noted that while Giuliani was quick to give President Bush credit for his response to the disaster, Nagin skewered the federal government after Katrina.

"The rhetoric has gotten in the way of building policy," Harrison said.

But Nagin takes a different view: "My legacy will probably be one of honesty and integrity and bringing that to government in a meaningful way. I'm sure my legacy will also be this guy said things pretty straight and wasn't your typical politician."

Back in NOLA

Well, I suppose I ought to go ahead and get this entered. I left late from Wichita because they were having light issues on the plane (emergency lights wouldn't come on). Naturally, no one mentioned this until the guys had already put me on the aisle chair and taken my chair down. Slightly uncomfortable, but I got to lean on the leg of a cutie patootie for 20 minutes, so I reckon I shouldn't complain too loudly. Despite the late departure, I still made my NO connection. A friend of my friend Erika was on the NO flight, and he recognized me. I was not thrilled (he's one of those guys who doesn't know what he wants, so he's jerked my friend around quite a bit), but I was polite nevertheless. Our family rules: (1) If we like you, we tease you. (2) If we don't like you, we don't talk to you. (3) If we really don't like you, we are polite to you.

Sat next to an adorably sweet couple who were on their way to NO for Southern Decadence, and we all (the entire plane) sat on the tarmac for about half an hour when the airport shut down because of weather. At the captain's announcement, about half the plane loudly expressed their frustration. My philosophy? There was lightning bouncing all over the place and we were sitting in a metal tube -- I'm OK with sitting on the tarmac for a bit. My seatmates and I took naps.

After arriving in NO, finding my friends, and gathering all my stuff (carry-on bag, laptop, wheelchair, two suitcases, oxygen concentrator -- oh, and Reba), we went for a late supper at Applebee's. They screwed up my and Marlo's orders which made me want to cry because it was almost 11:00 and I hadn't eaten since about 1:00. Stupid people.

Saturday Marlo and William took me to Whole Foods and Walmart for grocery shopping ($150 at Walmart -- ACK!). Sunday I bummed around here doing nothing. Today I read a chapter in stats and interviewed two potential attendants. And now it's almost time to go to bed. Night y'all.

From Nate, who got it from Anita

Your Score: Semicolon

You scored 15% Sociability and 70% Sophistication!

Congratulations! You are the semicolon! You are the highest expression of punctuation; no one has more of a right to be proud. In the hands of a master, you will purr, sneering at commas, dismissing periods as beneath your contempt. You separate and connect at the same time, and no one does it better. The novice will find you difficult to come to terms with, but you need no one. You are secure in your elegance, knowing that you, and only you, have the power to mark the skill or incompetence of the craftsman.

You have no natural enemies; all fear you.

And never, NEVER let anyone tell you that you cannot appear in dialogue!

Link: The Which Punctuation Mark Are You Test written by Gazda on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Leaving on a jet plane

I'll be back around Christmas time.

However, instead of being in bed right now, getting more rest for the trip, I had to get up at 5:00 (Mom works today) so my friend Becky can take me to a 7:45 appointment with my cardiologist. It's been over a year since I've last seen her, and she wouldn't renew my blood pressure med -- and I found this out yesterday afternoon.

A. I'm a busy person who now sees at least three specialists in addition to my GP. I can't keep track of who I saw when.

B. No one bothered to tell me when I should have a follow-up.

C. No one called me to make an appointment for a follow-up.

D. When the last refill was called in a month or so ago, no one (neither the pharmacy nor the cardiologist's office) called to tell me Dr. B "did it as a favor" and that I needed to make an appointment.

E. I am not a mind reader, people.

I need a nap. Please, dear Higher, give me the strength to get through this day without crying or yelling at someone just because I'm sleepy.

Happy birthday to MEEEEEEEE!!!

I slept late today -- didn't intend to sleep as late as I did (after 10:00), but I sleep SO WELL since I've been on oxygen at night. P called me while I was still getting up, and after I talked to him, I noticed I had a new voice message -- a call from my Aunty Poo at 7:00 a.m. (she always calls me on her way to work). I briefly checked my email -- some birthday wishes from two other managers of one of my online groups, with new siggies from one, and a happy birthday from my friend LaShonda's mom -- then Mom took me to lunch at my favorite taco joint. We took some overdue books back to the library, and since we were on that side of town, I dropped in on my friend Connie at the Renaissance Shoppe. I bought myself a new ring (an oval-shaped peridot set in silver with triquetras on either side) and a new necklace (a silver star outlining a silver spiral)):



Afterwards we went to the Alltel store because the keys on my cell keep freezing up and I have to have someone pull the battery to reset it. I'm three months past the manufacturer's warranty but nine months away from being able to change my phone for no charge on my contract, so basically I have to bend over, take it, and buy a new phone at full retail -- and the cheapest they have is $140. ::grumbles loudly:: I told the rep what I thought of their fancy little money-making scheme and left. I'll probably go to the McPherson store in a day or so and fork it over, but DAMN! ::grumbles more::

Then just a few minutes ago I got the best birthday present of the day -- Anita is taking up her master's degree again after an extended hiatus, and she's switching her focus to something she is very passionate about. ::squeezes the stuffing out of Anita:: I'm so proud of you, love!!!

And a delayed announcement that I am very happy about as well -- Lynlee is carrying a wee little tadpole for a gorgeous couple in L.A. Congratulations, honey! You always incubate such beautiful babies, and I'm so excited for you!

She would've been 34 today

Today started off pretty well -- my favorite attendant from the home health agency came to get me up, a little reading, checking email, a nice lunch with Dad (Mom's at work). It briefly passed through my mind more than once that today is my sister Stacy's birthday (especially since Dad made the comment after lunch that I am going to be an "old lady" tomorrow on my own birthday), but I didn't feel the usual sinking in my stomach or pang of sadness.

I should have known it was coming. I just didn't expect to sneak up on me in a song.

I was sitting here at the computer, looking up prices of trinocular stereo microscopes with included cameras and imaging software, not really listening to the music on my Real Player. Dad said he was going over to the neighbors' to mow (they're custom cutters and have been away most of the Summer), and I made sure he had plenty of water to take with him. That bit of distraction was all it took for me to notice the song that was playing.

"There You'll Be" by Faith Hill.

The song was popular around the time my sister died. I think of her a lot when I hear it -- not because of the coincident song popularity and her death, but because it fits our relationship. We were each other's defenders growing up. She was an extrovert who did whatever she wanted and everyone else's opinions be damned. And I learned from her without even realizing it. She supported me in whatever I did. Even at the height of our fighting days before she moved to Illinois, we both subconsciously knew that if one of us got into real trouble that the other would be there in an instant to help -- though you never would have heard me say it aloud, and probably not her either.

I sat here quietly, listening to that damned song. I don't remember when I started to cry, but boy, did I cry. It's been almost seven years, and it still hurts like a son of a bitch.

I suppose it always will.


There You'll Be -- Faith Hill

When I think back on these times
And the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed
To get to have you in my life
When I look back on these days
I'll look and see your face
You were right there for me

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there will always be a place for you
For all my life I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there you'll be

Well you showed me how to feel
Feel the sky was in my reach
And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me
Your love made me make it through
Oh, I owe so much to you
You were right there for me

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there will always be a place for you
For all my life I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there youll be

'Cause I always saw in you my light, my strength
And I want to thank you now
For all the ways you were right there for me
You were right there for me
For always

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there will always be a place for you
For all my life I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there youll be

Rant

My rant is something I forgot to mention in my recent hospital chronicles, and I don't know what brings it to mind two weeks later other than a general post-menstrual crabbiness exacerbated by a bad night's sleep. It involves the woman who was inserting my IV when I was admitted for the UTI. Mom was mentioning how my kidney stone had postponed my return to school in New Orleans, and the woman (I put her in her 50s, maybe early 60s) looked at Mom and said, "Oh, is there a special school there?"

I looked her dead in the eye and replied, with a bit of pissed in my voice, "Yes. It's one of the few places in the country with a Ph.D. program specifically for conservation biology." I only just managed not to tack on the end, "you bigoted, short-sighted, ableist bitch."

If she were 80 or 90, I could understand -- wouldn't make it right, but I'd know the social upbringing that had put it in her head. But this woman is not from a generation who should still be spouting that kind of BS. And she didn't even apologize -- just gave me a look that said she didn't quite believe me and left. I knew she was a callous bitch by the way she inserted my IV -- picked a vein and dug until she got it, no matter how much it hurt me -- but damn.

Kidney stones, lifts, and bonus book

Got my kidney stone removed yesterday. Not merely lasered to bits and I get to pee it out, but TOTALLY GONE. As Anita would say: "And there was much rejoicing." The whole thing was pretty effortless, actually. The nurse got my IV on the first try (nearly unheard of nowadays), they got blood on the second try for the obligatory pregnancy test (though it seems pointless to do it after I tell them I've been on my period all week), and I didn't wake up feeling like I was going to wet the bed (they had inserted a Foley, thank the Higher, while I was still asleep). I was, however, shivering uncontrollably when I woke up. They put this thing called a Bair Hugger on me -- it's two layers of paper (like a paper gown), and warm air blows in between the layers. Loved it. They also gave me Demerol for the shivering -- Mom thinks because it's a muscle relaxer, I think because it gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling. ::grin:: I can understand why people get addicted to that stuff. The nurse told me, "You might feel sleepy, so go ahead and sleep." In my head I said, "Just try and keep me awake," but all that came out was a dreamy "OK."

When we were leaving, I noticed a spot under P's van that I hadn't noticed when I got out. The lift had leaked hydraulic fluid. It barely had enough to get me in so we could get home. I have an email to my friend Jenni because her dad works on wheelchair lifts. I can't get back to NO until it's fixed because I can't get to the airport. I'm waiting just a bit anyway because I'm still on antibiotics for last week's "really nasty" UTI, and I want to make sure it's GONE before I go back.

And now -- the August bonus book of the month: Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill. I had an interest in reading this even before I learned that "Joe Hill" is in fact one of Stephen King's offspring. The premise of it put me in mind of a book my friend Brian has been working on for a while (not that they're the same premise exactly, but it kind of reminded me of B's style). The story was actually pretty decent -- a semi-retired rock star buys a dead man's suit and the ghost attached to it. You soon discover that the whole thing was set up by the man before he died and his oldest step-daughter as revenge for the younger step-daughter's suicide. Seems younger woman was an old girlfriend of the rock star who was prone to depression, and rock star sent her home when he couldn't figure out how to help her anymore. The plot twists later, and you learn things weren't what they seemed with the family. For a first novel, I give it a B+. The part that startled me came at the end. The rock star and current girlfriend wind up returning to where he grew up -- Moore's Corner, LA, supposedly near Slidell. I don't know if Moore's Corner exists, but the news reporter the rocker's aunt mentions does. Dennis Woltering is a reporter at WWL, the CBS affiliate in New Orleans. A tiny detail, but it lends authenticity to the story, you know?

July, July/August, and August Books of the Month

JULY -- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling One of my favorites in the series.

JULY/AUGUST -- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling Where does Rowling figure only two people died??? By my count, it was SIX on the good guys' side. The first didn't bother me too much because I wasn't emotionally invested in the character, but the rest . . . . ::bawls loudly:: Then the happy moments: Neville organizing the resistance, Percy's return, Neville's big act at the end. For a while, I wasn't sure what I was going to make of the book, but I was very happy with it from the Dynamic Trio's capture by Fenrir Greyback on to the end. For the movie, a lot of the material before the capture can be shortened without losing anything significant, but cutting much after that will damage the story -- though choreograhing the final Great Hall duels will be difficult.

AUGUST -- The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho A novel about a woman discovering the Great Mother and her trials in teaching others about Her. One interesting thing is that the book is not told from her point of view or even as a "biography" but rather through recollections of people who knew her or knew of her. This book resonated with me because I could see some of myself and my own journey in Athena (who the book is about) and in her teacher Edda. Some of my favorite bits:

Edda: "Try to feel good about yourself even when you feel like the least worthy of creatures. Reject all those negative thoughts and let the Mother take possession of your body and soul; surrender yourself to dance or to silence or to ordinary, everyday activities -- like taking your son to school, preparing supper, making sure the house is tidy. Everything is worship if your mind is focused on the present moment" (p. 149). In fact, the entire portion beginning on this page -- laughing at ourselves when we doubt, trusting that we are guided exactly where we need to go, daring to be different.

Edda: "You are what you believe yourself to be" (p. 152).

Edda: "The real Tradition is this: the teacher never tells the disciple what he or she should do. They are merely traveling companions, sharing the same uncomfortable feeling of 'estrangement' when confronted by ever-changing perceptions, broadening horizons, closing doors, rivers that sometimes seem to block their path and which, in fact, should never be crossed but followed.

"There is only one difference between teacher and disciple: the former is slightly less afraid than the latter" (p. 213).

Gypsy blacksmith, Edda's teacher: "Please, God, my Mother, don't give up until I've taken on the shape that you wish for me. Do this by whatever means you think best, for as long as you like, but never ever throw me on the scrap heap of souls" (p. 220).

Athena, when asked what she has gained from believing in a Spirit who is close at hand rather than an unreachable one far beyond the clouds: "The joy of being alive. I know that I'm here, and that everything is a miracle, a revelation" (p. 233).

Edda: "In order for us to liberate the energy of our strength, our weakness must first have a chance to reveal itself" (p. 235).

Athena: "Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn't what romantic songs tell us it is -- love simply is. (. . .) No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love" (p. 258).

I checked the book out from the library, but I think I will have to purchase my own copy so I can underline my favorite passages.

Quadruple UGH!!!

I got the stent placed in my ureter on Thursday, Aug. 2. When I woke up, I felt like the doctor had used my entire left abdomen as a punching bag, not to mention my kidney now hurt (hadn't really bothered me that much prior to that). Turns out my ureter is "really crooked" and Dr. M had a lot of difficulty placing the stent.

I woke up nauseous on Friday. I tried to keep my fluid intake up, but it's difficult when you constantly feel like you're going to yak everything back up. I laid down at 3:00, hoping a nap and some anti-nausea medicine I requested would do the trick. No such luck. I got up about 6:30, then went back to bed at 7:30. I was running a slight fever (99.7).

Saturday, I woke up feeling better. I ate a container of strawberry yogurt and had a nice visit with Jenni. I only tried to fall asleep on her once, but I don't know if she noticed. She filled me in on a number of details of Gina's last days. That evening, I ate a little chicken noodle soup (Campbell's knock-off -- yuck!) and went to bed at 8:00.

Sunday, I was still feeling OK, so I ate some peach yogurt. By 1:00, I felt like s--- warmed over and spread too thinly across a hot sidewalk. I was hot, I was cold, my kidney was aching, and I just wanted to sleep. I called Mom at work and told her I needed to "be seen by someone." She took off early (not TOO early, though, because her shift ends at 2:00) and raced me into the Mac ER (I never looked at the speedometer, I was too busy concentrating on not throwing up, but I'm pretty sure we were doing at least 80 MPH). Long story short, I had a "really nasty" UTI -- pus and blood in my urine, high white blood cell count -- and I was dehydrated. They admitted me overnight for fluids and antibiotics. I got 2-3 liters of the former and 2 grams of the latter by 9:00 p.m., and I felt like a whole new woman. They had put me on clear liquids for supper, but by 9:00 or so I was whining for toast. They let me try, and it was fantastic!

My GP Dr. P came to see me early Monday a.m., and he said he wanted me another day in the hospital for antibiotics. Then my urologist popped in to check on me (he is in Mac on Mondays for a urology clinic) and set my lasering for the 17th. ::sigh:: Looks like I'm missing at least the first week of classes -- but I'll be here for my birthday. Tuesday, Dr. P told me he wanted me 24 hours without a fever before letting me go home, and since I had run one the night before, I had to stay another day. Thus started the frustration -- I would be OK ALL DAMN DAY, but anywhere between 5:00 and 10:00 p.m., I would jump up to almost 101, stay there about half an hour, then drop again. I finally got out Friday evening, but only because Dr. P classified 99.7 "close" to a fever.

Saturday, Mom got my antibiotic prescription filled. I took the first pill in the late afternoon, and during supper I started feeling nauseous. I thought it was the brand of hot dogs Mom had chosen for our chili dogs, so I just ate the chili. About 10 minutes after supper, I threw up a little. About 30-45 minutes later, I threw up a lot. I went to bed and was nauseous half the night, but I didn't vomit again. Needless to say, I haven't taken anymore of the antibiotic. The pharmacist told my mom to keep an eye on the antibiotic because it is in the same family as one that gave me vomiting and diarrhea in January. The odd thing is that the stuff they gave me in the hospital is also in that family and I had no trouble. It is a 3rd generation (created to be more specific against certain bacteria) whereas the others are 1st generation (more general), so perhaps the change is just enough for me to handle. I'm waiting to hear back from Dr. P that he's called me in something else.

::sigh:: I'm ready to feel normal again.

I'm linked by someone "famous"

This last week has been, well, a drag. I'll post about it soon, but until then, I invite you to check out the comments Kay at The Gimp Parade was asked to give CNN about institutionalization of people with developmental disabilities in the 1950s and 1960s. Original CNN story here, Kay's response (and readers' responses to her) here.

The 8 Random Things Meme

The rules:

1. Let others know who tagged you.
2. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
3. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.
4. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.



Tagged by Kay at The Gimp Parade

Eight Random Facts:

1. I have extremely eclectic musical tastes, including light Italian opera, country, rock, Celtic, Broadway, and Pakistani rock. About the only thing I won't listen to is rap.

2. I own hundreds of books located at both my parents' house in Kansas and my apartment in Louisiana -- and I doubt I've even read half of them.

3. Thanks to the encouragement of my friends Anita, Jonikka, and Kevin, I took up creative writing again seven years ago as a way to exercise the other half of my brain. I currently have several fan-fiction pieces (for the TV series "Highlander," "Doctor Who/Torchwood," and "The Sentinel" as well as one for the Harry Potter universe) and a couple of originals -- none of which are anywhere CLOSE to being completed.

4. I wear a rhinoceros ring on my right hand. I've had it so long (more than thirteen years) that the flesh of my finger has formed to the back of the ring. People often mistake it for a hippo when they just glance at it.

5. Pesto is mankind's greatest culinary invention. Hummus is #2.

6. I have at least a half a dozen different types of tea in my cupboard. I love trying different kinds.

7. Since I've been home this Summer, I've become addicted to the Japanese program "Ninja Warrior" on the G4 channel. It's good that I can watch episodes on the channel's website, because I don't get it on my cable lineup in NOLA. I have a crush on regular contestant Makoto Nagano -- great body, adorable smile. ::swoon::

8. I have an octopus stuffy on my desk in the graduate student office that my friend Sarah got at this year's Zulu parade. She tried to grab it when it was thrown, but a tourist snatched it away from her. Sarah pleaded with her: "My friend LOVES octopuses! Please let me have it for her!" She traded her an entire garbage bag full of beads.

I tag:
1. Kim
2. Suz
3. Jennifer B.
4. Stacie
5. Michelle
6. Sarah
7. E
8. Jennifer W.

(you can just do it in my comments section if you want)

Pontchartrain Waterspout

Today I received a series of pictures from our departmental secretary at UNO. Apparently they had a good-sized waterspout yesterday. These pictures were taken (by whom, she did not know) from the top of the Engineering Building in the southern third of campus looking NNE toward the lake (FYI -- the lake is 25 miles by 40 miles in size). I received a total of eight pictures.

Pic 1 in the series




Pic 4




Pic 7




Pic 8

Ancient Language

Your Score: Akkadian

You scored

You are Akkadian, a blend of the incomprehensible symbols of the Sumerians with the unwritable sounds of the early Semitic peoples. However, the writing just doesn't suit the words and doesn't represent everything needed, so you end up a schizoid mess. Invented in Babylon, you're probably to blame for that tower story. However, crazy as you are, you're much loved and appreciated, and remain actively in use by records keepers long after schools have switched to other languages.

Link: The Which Ancient Language Are You Test written by imipak on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Random thoughts swirling in a sleepy mind

How many people can actually get away with not being present for the conduction of the majority of their dissertation experiments due to a numb bum?

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the news sprung on me by one friend. A sudden change of things for me, though not for her, but it's taking me time to adjust. I worry that she will take my lack of exuberance as disapproval. It is not -- it is just a new way of thinking about her and the life she has chosen. My lack of familiarity with that new life contributes.

What am I going to do when I go back to New Orleans and no longer have the Sleuth Channel to give me daily doses of Thomas Magnum?

Totem adventures. First was being two feet away from an Indian rhinoceros, which is my favorite of the five species. Then it was getting to feed and touch a black rhinoceros, an indescribable experience.

I need oxygen at night because I drop below 85% saturation when I'm sleeping. This is news I don't know how to feel about, especially coming a little over a month after losing an old friend with my same MD type who had more respiratory problems than I was aware of. A friend who was only a year younger than me. By "ordinary," able-bodied standards, I am still a young woman, but by spinal muscular atrophy standards, I am an old lady. There's a niggling thought, one that comes at night when I can't sleep or when dark thoughts are driven by spiking hormones, that this is how the end begins. I have started looking at books with lung-strengthening information, and in the meantime I periodically stop during the day to take deep, chest-expanding breaths. If you don't use it, you lose it -- and I have things to do.

"Pan's Labyrinth," though excellently done, should never ever be watched when one is hormonally vulnerable. It's freaking Shakespeare in Spanish.

When already depressed by my menstrual cycle and "Pan's Labyrinth," maybe finishing Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was a bad idea. Oh well, what's done is done.

I'm going back to NOLA in two weeks. Where has the time GONE???

My cousin getting ready to welcome his third child. Another wee one for me to spoil.

Hopefully rereading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will inspire my Muse to actually help me write on Nay's story. Or reading Anita's or Jonikka's story posts. I really MISS writing creatively.

I've resigned myself to the fact that there are people I just will not be able to see this trip home despite being here longer. It makes me sad (two in particular), but you just can't do anything about heart catheterizations or flu or boss stress or parents with broken hips and gout or greedy oil companies charging stupid prices for gas.

A&W root beer is so damn good.

I'm going to finally see "Order of the Phoenix" and "1408" -- both this weekend. Still haven't seen "Pirates" III -- dammit.

Narcotics play a number on your bowels. Good thing there are dried apricots in the world.

I sometimes could use Dumbledore's Pensieve, you know?

A Dream Come True

Yesterday, I went to the Sedgwick County Zoo with Lynlee, Pax, and Rolando. There was tons of fun all around, about which I will blog in detail later, but I had to share my two most exciting moments.

1. Seeing the three-day-old baby of Bebe II and Eugene, the black rhinos.

2. Feeding Katie, Bebe's and Eugene's previous calf (3- or 4-years-old).

Yes, my friends -- I GOT TO FEED A RHINO!!! And pet her. And talk to her. And look into her beautiful brown eyes. And feel that prehensile upper lip gently nibble my hand. And see every detail about her, from her rough skin to the alfalfa clinging to her great horn.

I still get goosebumps thinking about it.

Rolling Hills Refuge

know I sent these via email, but I wanted to put them here as well.


Aldabra Tortoises




Amur Leopard




Andean (Spectacled) Bear




Bactrian Camel




Burmese Pythons




Chilean Flamingo




Cotton-top Tamarin




Feeding Giraffe




Joya--Indian Rhino




Joya--Indian Rhino (again)




Mandrill




Millie--White Rhino Female




Milt--White Rhino Male




Snow Leopards




Uzazi--Black Rhino Male




White Dromedary Camel




White Tiger





There's chance I might be going to the Sedgwick County Zoo next week sometime with Rolando. I can hardly wait to see the gorillas, but I hope I don't have an experience like Anita.

June Bonus Books -- Redux

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Started Monday Mourning by Kathy Reichs this morning, but I need to get started on my NSF grant/general exam write-up.

I'm so excited!!!

Tomorrow, I'm going to Rolling Hills Wildlife Adventure. I've been wanting to visit for years (ever since they opened) because I know they have so many wonderful animals and programs.

But my excitement is a million times the ordinary because I'm getting a PERSONAL TOUR OF THE RHINOS!!! A lady with whom my parents used to go to church met the rhino keeper a few months ago and told her all about how much I love rhinos. The keeper said she'd show me around personally, and TOMORROW'S THE DAY!!! I'm so excited I could just wet myself.

As if that weren't enough, the refuge has THREE species of rhino -- black, white, and Indian. I've seen two blacks at the Sedgwick County Zoo and two whites at the Memphis Zoo, but I've never ever ever seen an Indian. Oh boy, oh boy, OH BOY!!!

Did I mention I'm excited?