Age Gauges

World Events

You said your birthday is 8 / 22 / 1971
which means you are 34 years old and about:
54 years 10 months younger than Walter Cronkite, age 89
50 years 2 months younger than Nancy Reagan, age 84
47 years 2 months younger than George Herbert Bush, age 81
39 years 11 months younger than Barbara Walters, age 74
37 years 9 months younger than Larry King, age 72
31 years 6 months younger than Ted Koppel, age 66
28 years 2 months younger than Geraldo Rivera, age 62
25 years 2 months younger than George W. Bush, age 59
20 years 1 month younger than Jesse Ventura, age 54
15 years 10 months younger than Bill Gates, age 50
11 years 0 months younger than Cal Ripken Jr., age 45
5 years 2 months younger than Mike Tyson, age 39
1 year 1 month younger than Jennifer Lopez, age 35
4 years 4 months older than Tiger Woods, age 30
10 years 10 months older than Prince William, age 23


and that you were:
30 years old at the time of the 9-11 attack on America
28 years old on the first day of Y2K
26 years old when Princess Diana was killed in a car crash
23 years old at the time of Oklahoma City bombing
22 years old when O. J. Simpson was charged with murder
21 years old at the time of the 93 bombing of the World Trade Center
19 years old when Operation Desert Storm began
18 years old during the fall of the Berlin Wall
14 years old when the space shuttle Challenger exploded
12 years old when Apple introduced the Macintosh
11 years old during Sally Ride's travel in space
9 years old when Pres. Reagan was shot by John Hinckley, Jr.
8 years old at the time the Iran hostage crisis began
4 years old on the U.S.'s bicentennial Fourth of July
2 years old when President Nixon left office
not yet 1 year old when Alabama Gov. George C. Wallace was shot


Top 40

You said your birthday is 8 / 22 / 1971
which means you are 34 years old and about:
38 years 6 months younger than Yoko Ono, age 73
30 years 3 months younger than Bob Dylan, age 65
28 years 1 month younger than Mick Jagger, age 62
26 years 5 months younger than Eric Clapton, age 61
23 years 3 months younger than Stevie Nicks, age 58
15 years 10 months younger than David Lee Roth, age 50
13 years 0 months younger than Madonna, age 47
9 years 6 months younger than Jon Bon Jovi, age 44
4 years 5 months younger than Billy Corgan, age 39
1 year 5 months younger than Mariah Carey, age 36
2 years 9 months older than Alanis Morissette, age 32
10 years 3 months older than Britney Spears, age 24


and when these songs were topping the charts
and these events occurred your age was:
ABC TV premieres In Concert: 1
Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce: 2
I Shot the Sheriff, Eric Clapton: 3
Silly Love Songs, Wings: 4
Elvis Presley Dies: 5
Do Ya Think I'm Sexy, Rod Stewart: 7
Another Brick in the Wall, Pink Floyd: 8
John Lennon is shot to death: 9
MTV makes its debut: 9
Who Can it be Now, Men at Work: 11
The recording of We Are The World: 13
Walk Like an Egyptian, Bangles: 15
Didn't We Almost have it all, Whitney Houston: 16
Back In The U.S.S.R. is released exclusively in Russia: 17
Nothing Compares 2 U, Sinead O'Connor: 18
Emotions, Mariah Carey: 20
Fleetwood Mac perform at Bill Clinton's inauguration: 21
The Sign, Ace Of Base: 22
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum opens: 24


TV

You said your birthday is 8 / 22 / 1971
which means you are 34 years old and about:
45 years 3 months younger than Andy Griffith, age 80
41 years 9 months younger than Dick Clark, age 76
40 years 5 months younger than Leonard Nimoy, age 75
38 years 4 months younger than Carol Burnett, age 73
35 years 7 months younger than Alan Alda, age 70
34 years 1 month younger than Bill Cosby, age 68
28 years 9 months younger than Linda Evans, age 63
26 years 7 months younger than Tom Selleck, age 61
23 years 8 months younger than Ted Danson, age 58
21 years 4 months younger than Jay Leno, age 56
17 years 7 months younger than Oprah Winfrey, age 52
16 years 6 months younger than Kelsey Grammer, age 51
13 years 3 months younger than Drew Carey, age 48
10 years 2 months younger than Michael J. Fox, age 44
6 years 9 months younger than Calista Flockhart, age 41
2 years 6 months younger than Jennifer Aniston, age 37
1 year 4 months older than Alyssa Milano, age 33
6 years 3 months older than Colin Hanks, age 28
12 years 0 months older than Mila Kunis, age 22
19 years 10 months older than Madylin Sweeten, age 14


and that you were:
1 years old at the time the TV series M*A*S*H began
4 years old when Saturday Night Live first aired
6 years old when CBS introduced Dallas
9 years old during the first airing of Hill Street Blues
11 years old at the time the first Cheers episode was televised
15 years old when L.A. Law was first aired on TV
15 years old at the time the series Married with Children began
18 years old when Seinfeld was first televised
20 years old in the month Home Improvement began
23 years old at the time the TV series Friends began
25 years old when Everybody Loves Raymond first aired
27 years old when Who Wants To Be A Millionaire began in the US


The Movies

You said your birthday is 8 / 22 / 1971
which means you are 34 years old and about:
52 years 7 months younger than Zsa Zsa Gabor, age 87
41 years 3 months younger than Clint Eastwood, age 76
38 years 6 months younger than Kim Novak, age 73
35 years 6 months younger than Burt Reynolds, age 70
31 years 6 months younger than Nick Nolte, age 66
30 years 4 months younger than Ann-Margret, age 65
24 years 5 months younger than Billy Crystal, age 59
21 years 9 months younger than Whoopi Goldberg, age 56
19 years 1 month younger than Robin Williams, age 53
15 years 1 month younger than Tom Hanks, age 49
12 years 9 months younger than Jamie Lee Curtis, age 47
10 years 5 months younger than Eddie Murphy, age 45
1 year 1 month younger than Jennifer Lopez, age 35
7 years 6 months older than Jennifer Love Hewitt, age 27
16 years 8 months older than Haley Joel Osment, age 18



and when these movies were released in the U.S. your age was:
American Graffiti: 1
Jaws: 3
Star Wars: 5
Animal House: 6
Star Trek: The Motion Picture: 8
ET: 10
The Terminator: 13
Top Gun: 14
Planes, Trains & Automobiles: 16
Steel Magnolias: 18
Home Alone: 19
Wayne's World: 20
Jurassic Park: 21
Forrest Gump: 22
Fargo: 24
Saving Private Ryan: 26
Toy Story 2: 28

When did I get old?

Yesterday was an interesting day. Jonikka's (one of my best friends) daughter graduated from the 5th grade. She will be in middle school next year. Somehow, sometime, some way, this four-year-old child I just met yesterday is today a middle-schooler wearing a 32A bra. Where did that little girl go? That little girl who I convinced that I was magic when I opened my apartment door with the remote is now a young woman with the beginning of a figure wearing 1" heeled sandals. That little girl who came home on the first day of kindergarten mad as hell because they weren't teaching her to read like Mommy PROMISED they would has now graduated 5th grade with a Presidential Award of Achievement. She's wearing grown-up jewelry but still clung to the stuffed elephant Anita gave her for graduation.

Where does the time go?

Well, THAT'S better!

Got everything straightened out with the urologist, so June 8th's procedure will all be conducted through my urethra. Whew!

AND I don't have to be to the hospital until 11:00 because I won't have all that balloon occlusion and tube placement. Great for me, even better for my mom who wouldn't have gotten home from work until about 11:00 the night before and then have to get up about 4:00/4:30.

Kinda scary how close these things get sometimes

You Are Bert

Extremely serious and a little eccentric, people find you loveable - even if you don't love them! You are usually feeling: Logical - you rarely let your emotions rule you You are famous for: Being smart, a total neat freak, and maybe just a little evil How you life your life: With passion, even if your odd passions (like bottle caps and pigeons) are baffling to others

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

Kidney Surgery Scheduled

On June 8th, I have a cystoscopy with occlusion balloon placement at 0730, then at 0900 I go to radiology for percutaneous tube placement, and finally at 1300 I will have a left percutaneous nephrostlithotomy.

Whatever that all is. All I know is I have to be in Salina at 0530.

For you non-military types, that's 5:30 IN THE FREAKING MORNING.

Oy . . . .

Nay's Graduation Gifts

Interesting . . . .

What type of Fae are you?

And now we do the dance of JOY!!!

I saw my nephrologist again today, and he cleared me to have my kidney stones taken care of! I did circles out in the parking lot, I was so happy!! My CO2 seems to be leveling at 21/22, and he said that is acceptable. He'd like me to be at least 24 for surgery, but it appears that my body has established its own equilibrium, so we're just going to go with it.

::happy gimp dance::

After lunch, Mom and I sat down to make Naomi's graduation present since Anita and I are going to the ceremony on Saturday. The necklace has as its focal a small, conch-like seashell cut in longitudinal-section. Its primary color is white with pink, greenish-brown, and brown accents, so I chose jade- and amber-colored beads with a few white accents. For a bracelet on memory wire, Mom strung beads I chose -- a random assortment of purple and green beads accented by little seed pearls, and I chose a good-sized blue bead out of a big 500 gram pack of beads I got for $9. I just wanted it to be different -- like nothing you can buy. It also has a dog paw charm on it. I think it looks way cool. I'll get Mom to take a pic of the two pieces, and I'll post them. While I was searching the big pack of beads, I pulled out all kinds of funky and unusual beads to put on a bracelet for myself. It's so wacky and random that a picture wouldn't do it justice. You just have to see it to appreciate it. I just LOVE it -- it's kooky and one-of-a-kind, just like me. ::grin::

Oy!

So, what did I do today?

I had a hard time waking up because I had a hard time getting to sleep. Had a really bad case of the heart pounding nonsense, which my cardiologist told me might happen with me taking 5 mg of Norvasc. She said that if it happened and was bothersome to go back to 2.5 mg. I only took 2.5 mg this morning.

Then I tried to call in a refill on my bicarb, but the pharmacy wouldn't fill it because their records "indicated it was too soon." Well, that makes sense since I'm taking 3X more than the original script called for. I called my nephrologist's office so they could call in a new order. I now have two big bottles of bicarb (540 tablets per bottle) because, to quote Mom, "A three month supply was only nineteen cents more than a one month supply." While I talked to my nephrologist's nurse, she told me my CO2 from last week was 21, and that all other levels indicate my kidneys are functioning "perfectly." Go, kidneys!

Then I had to call my GP because his office called me late Friday wanting to know if I'm on any antibiotics. Oh, yeah. Seems THEY got my UA from last week and it indicated "100,000 colonies of mixed Gram positive bacteria." According to the nurse, under normal circumstances, a doc wouldn't treat that unless the patient was exhibiting symptoms of a UTI. My situation with stones means I would've gotten put on antibiotics had I not already been on them.

THEN I called my urologist to get him to call me in more Lortab. Today is the third day in a row that I have taken two pills in the day, though today I took two 7.5s instead of stealing Dad's 10s, so I'm improving slightly. Still waiting to hear back from him, and I'm totally out. I learned last night that I may be experiencing a side effect of horrendous ITCHINESS. I scratched my stomach and legs so much last night that my skin was burning. Mom hasn't changed laundry detergent and I haven't changed soap, so that's the only thing we can think of. When the nurse calls me back, I'll have to ask him about that.

Finally, I wrote some more on my diss and emailed it to Barney. I have about fourteen pages of text, and I'm not even half way done. Need to pare it down a bit. Hopefully he'll get back to me with comments within a week so I can more efficiently write the rest.

I'm off to bed, and hopefully I'll sleep better. G'night, all!

Ups and Downs

So last night was a good TV night. "Doctor Who" was one of the best episodes I've seen, and I'm anxiously awaiting next week's second part. I have to admit, though, that I don't see what the big deal about Captain Jack is. Maybe we'll get a better idea next week. After that, I talked Dad into letting me watch "Numb3rs," so I was pretty tickled.

All day yesterday when I went to the bathroom, my kidney would twinge. Never had to take any medicine, so that was good, but I had the feeling it meant I was heading into one of my bad cycles. Sure enough, I was awakened this morning by it hurting. When I got up and peed, it hurt so bad that I just cried. I swiped one of Dad's 10 mg Lortabs, and now I'm lightheaded and slightly nauseous -- and my kidney is still twinging, but at least I don't have to hold my breath in an attempt to make the pain bearable.

I truly cannot WAIT until I can get rid of these bastards.

New Marine Species Found in the Atlantic

The Yahoo story. Be sure to click on the photo in the story -- it takes you to a slideshow of six pictures. The Oxygyrus keraudreni is one of my favorites, and Hippopodius hippopus is just so much fun to say! ::grin::

The story at BBC News has another gallery of pictures. Photo 2 is of the cutest baby octopus.

The Last Few Days

Been nuts. I've tried to at least comment on people's various blogs and LJs so no one will think I'm in the hospital again.

Wednesday I met with the nephrologist. He is pleased as punch with my rising CO2 (I am now up to 22 -- go, me!!), and he demoted my blood draws to once next week and once two weeks after that. And the fingers rejoiced!! I happened to finally find out what my CO2 was when I was admitted to ICU, and it's no wonder everyone was freaking out and I was getting my blood drawn every couple of hours the first day. Remember how I said the lower limit of normal is 18? Well, I was 6. ::shiver::

I still have to take six bicarb tablets a day, but I'm used to that now. Dr. C also told me he will not release me for surgery until my CO2 is 26, and so we will see what happens when I see him a week after my second lab. ::sigh:: That means another MONTH until I have the POSSIBILITY of doing something about these thrice-bedamned stones.

Thursday we went to pick up P for his pulmonology check-up, and I also had a follow-up with my GP from my ER admit. Afterwards, we stopped by the house on the way back to Wichita so I could pee and P could see the progress on the addition and meet the new puppy. When we walked into the house, Dad was asleep in his chair and moaning in his sleep. I know what that means when I do that (seriously, majorly ill or in pain or both), so I was immediately concerned. He's not been feeling too whoopie for about a week -- nausea and diarrhea, not to mention the drywall dust making his allergies go nuts. I talked to Mom, and the three of us convinced Dad to ride to Wichita with us and go to the VA. Didn't take a lot of convincing or arm twisting -- and that in itself was an additional sign of how badly he was feeling. While Mom hung with him at the ER, I stayed at P's. He let me use his dorm cash to get something for supper, and I got to watch a new ep of CSI. ::swoon:: I also got to hang with Naomi for a couple of hours and meet her new girl Zoe, a standard/miniature poodle mix. The doctors admitted Dad after HOURS of deliberation, the end result of which was they THOUGHT it might be his appendix. My reaction: "Well, they'd better figure it out, preferrably before it goes POP!" Mom got to P's at about 2330, she helped me pee (yes, my life revolves around peeing -- deal), and we headed home after purchasing bottled caffeine for Mom. I was tired as hell, but I kept talking to Mom to help her stay awake. We got home about 0045, were in bed by 0130, and we were back up again by about 0730-0800 to do chores and head back to Wichita.

Last night, I took advantage of Dad being gone and watched Numb3rs. ::swoon:: I want to marry Charlie and at least TRY to make babies with him! I got to bed late because Mom worked, but it wasn't as late as the night before. We were up early again, and we stopped at an ATM for me and Borders for Mom and Dad (you how much I HATE going to the bookstore since they always FORCE me to buy at least one book and a chai), then it was to the hospital again. As of today, the docs are sure it's an intestinal infection (they're nice and inflammed in all the pics), but they can't determine if it's viral or bacterial. Dad is still in the hospital today.

Gods, I need somebody to take me out.

Yet another medical update

My nephrologist's nurse called this afternoon, and he wants to see me tomorrow at 10:30 and get another BMP at least an hour and a half before seeing him. He is extremely concerned and confused about the fact that my CO2 is dropping despite taking six sodium bicarbonate tablets a day.

He also will not authorize any procedure to deal with my kidney stones until the acidosis is under control.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

But on a good note . . .

HAPPY 29TH BIRTHDAY, PAULEY!!!!

Bad, bad Monday

I had my follow-up with my urologist, Dr. M, yesterday. While waiting for him, I started breathing like I did when I wound up in the hospital the last time. My CO2 according to yesterday morning's labs was 18, which is the lowest limit of normal but down from the 21 it was last Thursday. Thinking I might have gotten dehydrated at the RenFaire on Sunday even though I drank almost two bottles of water there and a full 32 ounces within an hour of getting home, I decided to try to get my fluids up. I had some water there at the doc's office, then I had some Gatorade after I got home. I started feeling better and my breathing went close to normal, so I think that was the problem.

As to the meeting with Dr. M -- I still have two stones, one of which is three times bigger than the other. He gave me three options: (1) do the lithotripsy again, (2) do a telescope and laser blasting through my urethra, or (3) do a telescope and laser blasting through my body wall. Option (1) seems pretty senseless. Option (2) is less invasive and has a reduced recovery time, but it is less reliable at getting the stones broken up and may be complicated by my crooked ureter (though the stint MAY help with that). Option (3) is much more reliable at getting the stone broken up but means I'd be laid up longer -- something that is not good when you have a muscle disease.

I've been pondering and thinking and considering and wondering. I don't know what to do. I want to be done with this shit, but I don't want to lose any more strength. I already feel weaker from the two hospital stays. Mom suggested that if I choose Option (3) that we make the doc order PT to come in and do strength exercises with me.

Then yesterday afternoon I called T-Mobile to find out why I can't send or receive any calls on my cell. The automated voice told me my account is suspended because I am over my spending limit of $150 a month. I owe them $163+change. Excuse me??? I spoke to a CSA who told me I'm 250 minutes over my plan minutes of 600 per month. WHAT??? I have never ever never EVER come anywhere NEAR using my 600 minutes, let alone going over by THAT much. I told the CSA that something that I can't conceive of has happened, that my phone never EVER leaves my presence because it is always attached to my wheelchair and NO ONE ELSE has access to it, that she needs to take the minutes off. She put me on hold and then came back on to say they can only give me a ONE TIME credit of 50% off the overage, which amounts to me still having to pay them $110.

I told her NO WAY am I paying for something I didn't do. She asked me to look at my statement online and tell her which calls I didn't make, but still the only thing they can do is take 50% off the overage. I told her they could and WOULD take off ALL the overage, and they could cancel my service and I would get a carrier with better customer service. I hung up while waiting for a supervisor.

I tried looking up my statement, but because my account is suspended, I can't access anything online. You know damn good and well my not-so-helpful CSA had to have known that. I called back and demanded a supervisor only to be told "they are all currently busy." My new and not-very-helpful-at-all CSA filled out a form to have a supervisor call me back within two to twenty-four hours. That was around 5:30-6:00 yesterday, and I STILL haven't gotten my callback.

Nephrology

I got up yesterday and went to Mac to get my Thursday blood draw. The phlebotomist had drawn me a couple of times while I was in the hospital, so she wasn't surprised at how difficult I am to bleed. After a couple of attempts to get my veins, she settled for a finger stick. For a basic metabolic profile (BMP), a finger stick is not ideal because it misrepresents the sodium and potassium levels -- you get more of both because of the "tissue damage" of squeezing the finger repeatedly to get 1-2 cc of blood. I came out with a bright yellow circus bandaid, though. That was groovy.

After that we made a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up the nausea medicine Dr. P had called in for me the day before, then we were off to Hutch to meet with the nephrologist. He called me in thirty minutes after my appointment time, but he was very apologetic and explained that he had squeezed me in at the tail-end of his appointment day in Hutch (his practice is in Wichita) after receiving the call from Dr. P on Tuesday. I was lucky to be able to see him so soon. The only two problems were that (1) we were on a tight schedule because Mom worked yesterday, and (2) I was starving. After calling Mac hospital to fax all my labs and stuff (which they did EXTREMELY promptly, much to his surprise), Dr. C looked over everything and admitted to being perplexed. He thinks a couple of things might be happening. First, he thinks my excessively large bladder means that my urine is sitting too long and so the acidity is following Fick's Law and moving from the area of its higher concentration (in my bladder) to an area of lower concentration (into my bloodstream). He also thinks the remaining kidney stone is not allowing that kidney to properly pull acidity from my blood and put it in the urine. So, I am to try to pee more frequently and take two sodium bicarbonate tablets a day.

Dr. C also thinks that I have a low-grade, persistent UTI due to the stone as well. Thus he put me on ten days of Levaquin followed by thirty days of Bactram. Yoplait is going to LOVE me for the next month, considering I already had the start of a yeast infection from the IV antibiotics they gave me in the hospital. I was so wanting yogurt that last night I had a dream I went to buy some and it was all out of date. SERIOUSLY out of date. Like the date on one container read Feb. 27, 1920. When I pointed this out to the sales associate, he looked at the container and then me and asked, "Are you SURE it's not still good???"

Reba the Diva

Back in the hospital

Yea! What fun!

Last Thursday, when the wind was blowing a bazillion MPH and kicking up all kinds of dirt, I started having breathing problems. Fast, shallow breaths. No fun. I took a hit off my inhaler before Mom went to work, and it helped for a little while, but then the fast, shallow breathing returned. I called Mom to see if we had any of P's medicine for the nebulizer, and she said no. She advised me to try the inhaler again or call my doctor. I was a bit nervous about trying the inhaler again so soon (it had only been about three hours since the last hit), so I called my doctor, but he was off that day. I talked extensively with the nurse, explaining I couldn't go see the on-call doctor because Mom was at work and Dad was getting his quad serviced -- no one home to drive me. She told me to try the inhaler again and call her before 5:00 to tell her if it worked. She was very worried, and I wasn't exactly in a cheerful mood about it myself. I tried to call my aunt to get her to help me, but there was no answer at her house. I called Grandma's to see if she was there. She wasn't, and Grandma asked if there was something she could do. I told her what was up and that I needed help with my inhaler. She said she was on her way.

At this point, I was seriously considering going to the Mac ER. The problem was that Dad was feeling worse than I was (he had been off his heart medication for a week but was back on it, and it was kicking his ass all over the place), so I knew he wouldn't be up to sitting in the ER with me. Grandma arrived in short order and helped me with the inhaler, and she decided to stick close until Dad got home. Then she made the mistake of telling me she had driven 70 MPH in a 45 MPH crosswind to get to the house. Short of breath or no, I let her have it.

Me: Grandma, what the hellwere you thinking?

Grandma: You needed help. I wasn't sure how bad you were.

Me: Well, you wouldn't have been very much help to me if you'd wrecked on the way here!

Grandma: Weeeeeeell, I suppoooooose . . . .

That hit of albuterol didn't help for long, either, so I called Mom again at work to tell her I really probably ought to go to the ER. She called my aunt, who was now home, and she took me in. We arrived at the ER at about 6:45 or so. My BP was 185 over 134 and my heart rate was somewhere in the neighborhood of 150. On the way in and while at the hospital, I had a couple of waves of nausea but was able to talk myself out of throwing up. The ER doc gave me three separate breathing treatments, each with different medications, none of which significantly improved my breathing. At that point, she said, "I think you have an inflamed trachea, so I'm going to send you home with some steroids." I wasn't comfortable with that diagnosis and asked her to somehow get in touch with my doc.

While she did some calling and the stupid respiratory therapist kept asking me every ten minutes if I felt better YET, my nausea returned, and this time I couldn't talk myself out of yakking. Through the entire ER process of that night, I threw up three times, increasing in volume with each episode. After either talking to MY doc or the one on call, the ER doc ordered blood chem tests, blood gases, and a CT scan of my heart and lungs to see if I had a clot somewhere. The CT required the injection of contrast solution, so first we had to have fun with starting an IV. By this point, Mom had spelled my aunt (it was now about 10:15 or 10:30) and I had gotten her to lay me down on the gurney because my kidney was really starting to rock and roll. By about 1:30, we had determined I did not have a blood clot, but I DID have acidosis -- so badly that I was admitted into ICU. Well, at least we explained the shortness and rapidness of my breathing -- when you're blood is acidic that means your CO2 levels are very high, and you breathe rapidly to try to get rid of it and put your blood gases back into balance.

I slept fitfully that night, sleeping no more than an hour and a half before having to reposition or pee (I was on IV fluids by this time). Then started fun Friday.

Dr. P was afraid I'd blow the IV that was placed in a tiny vein in the back of my left hand, so he ordered another IV started. My RN tried and failed. Another RN tried and failed. They called anesthesia to get them to do it. He tried twice and failed. Interspersed throughout this were scads more CBCs and ABGs and BMPs and XYZs and such (blood work). Dr. P ordered a central line.

For those of you who don't know, a central line is a small catheter that is threaded through your jugular vein down to about your collar bone. They put a needle in your jugular to where they want the end of the catheter to be, then they thread a guide wire for the catheter, and finally they thread the catheter and then remove the guide wire and the needle. On most people, I'm sure it's easy.

I was assured I would be sedated for the procedure, and that was Jim Dandy fine with me since I was TIRED of being stuck. The guy went to get the materials, and I peed yet again. When he came back, he patiently answered my questions and then broke the bad news.

My doctor would not let me be sedated.

Turns out sedation can mess with your CO2 levels, and mine were already out of whack. I wasn't happy, but what could I do? I said OK, and we started.

Let me just say that a central line placement is in my Top 5 Worst Things I Have Ever Been Subjected To. Those of you who have ever had a PICC line placed will have some idea of what I felt.

And they never got the damn thing in! Forty-five to sixty minutes of work (of which I only started to cry in the last fifteen -- go me!), and they never got the damn thing in. I cried hysterically for at LEAST fifteen minutes after the guy gave up. He and the sweet student who was observing got me settled down, then they turned off all the lights, advised me to turn on the TV, and then left me blessedly alone. I cried a little more, calmed down, called Kender, and cried some more. ::hitching breath:: Man, that SUCKED!!!

Saturday was better. I slept a solid five hours, and the blood work was taken with a finger stick. Then they tried to get an ABG (arterial blood gas). I had already been stuck for it three times in my right wrist and wouldn't let them touch my left because I was babying that hand to keep my precious IV. My right wrist had had enough. The nerves were tender, and the artery was SO DONE with giving blood. They tried FOUR TIMES to get the ABG and failed. The last one hurt so badly and I was crying so hard that I told the lady I'd let her try my left wrist if she'd just TAKE OUT THE NEEDLE!! Apparently Dr. P was outside my room, and he told them no more ABGs for a while. That was the end of the needles for that day. ::sigh::

That afternoon, Mom brought my four-year-old niece Jamie up to see me. She brought me a rock she had picked out especially for me, then she got Mom to lift her into the bed so she could snuggle with me. She was very concerned about the tubes under my nose (I was on an oxygen canula) and in my hand (the IV) and the wires on my chest (the heart monitor), but I explained what they were for and she was fine after that. She even had to give me a play-by-play of my heart rate at one point. "Now it's one-zero-three. Now it's one-zero-zero. Nine-nine. One-zero-one. Nine-eight." Later, she asked me if I still had a rock in my tummy (referring to my kidney stones).

Sunday Dr. P ordered blood cultures because I had run a slight temp Friday night, then he released me to the floor and a regular room. Mom, Dad, and Jamie visited in the evening and brought me a spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's. Jamie gave me a purple Easter bunny, and Mom gave me a pic of Reba after she and Jamie had been playing dress-up.

Monday afternoon I had another CT scan and an ultrasound of my liver. Someone thought they saw a cyst on my liver on the admission CT pics, but there was none. Since I was going for a CT, I asked them to check my kidney. I still have a 1.5 cm stone. After the CT, I joked with the tech about making me a CD of my pictures so I could look at them. He asked Bruce (the head tech) -- who had done my admission CT and my kidney CT the last time I was in the hospital -- and he cheerfully said he would. Bruce likes me. That evening, I had my CD. Now I need to download some software to look at them. If I can figure out how to post them, I will share with y'all.

Through this time, all the various blood tests were being run to try to determine the cause of the acidosis, and we never did figure it out. I was dismissed yesterday afternoon, and I see a metabolic specialist tomorrow. Hopefully, s/he can get this figured out. Twice in a month is perplexing and frightening. I am also supposed to go to Mac hospital on Mondays and Thursdays for BMPs until further notice so that we can keep an eye on my blood acidity so that, in Dr. P's words, "it doesn't get that bad again."

LSU Brings Joy to Katrina-Ravaged State

I've had two teams I was rooting for in the NCAA Tournament -- my alma mater, who made it further than I honestly thought they would, and my new home team, who have REALLY made it further than I honestly thought they would. People down South are always talking about the Saints, but it's the college teams that actually do something for their home fans. Go Tigers!!


LSU Brings Joy to Katrina-Ravaged State

INDIANAPOLIS - LSU is going for more than just a national championship at this Final Four. The Tigers are playing for all those people back home who need a reason to celebrate, a reason to believe that everything will be all right, a reason to get on with their lives.

Already, the impact has been profound for the victims of Hurricane Katrina.

"We've helped the state a lot," said freshman guard Garrett Temple, a second-generation LSU player. "When people watch our games, they forget they're living in a trailer instead of their house in New Orleans. It feels great to know we're making people happy."

In the days following Katrina, the Tigers came face-to-face with unimaginable pain and incomprehensible suffering. They saw children crying out for mothers and fathers who were swept away by the floodwaters. They saw parents desperately searching for sons and daughters who would never be found. They saw battered bodies and hopeless souls.

They saw people die.

"It makes you appreciate life at a younger age," said Glen "Big Baby" Davis, the Tigers' sophomore star. "You think about the choices you make in life. You want to make sure you go out the right way."

If the Tigers are carrying a greater sense of purpose than UCLA, Florida or George Mason, they also have reason to be the loosest team in Indianapolis. When you've seen as much agony as these guys have seen, there's no reason to get all worked up about a basketball game.

"It kind of woke us up," freshman sensation Tyrus Thomas said Thursday at the Tigers' hotel in Indianapolis. "It could have been any of us."

After the hurricane slammed into New Orleans, crumpled the levees and turned the Big Easy into a lake, most of the victims fled inland to Baton Rouge. The Pete Maravich Assembly Center resembled a MASH unit, the wounded scattered all over the Tigers' home court.

Davis got a chance to pitch in.

A man who was hospitalized in New Orleans after a serious car accident had been moved to higher ground, but his condition worsened on the trip to Baton Rouge. While doctors performed impromptu surgery, Davis was drafted to hold the IV bag.

"One of his lungs had collapsed," Davis said, his voice barely above a whisper as he recounted that awful day. "He couldn't breathe. You could see him struggling for air.

"They made this huge hole in his lung. That was crazy. I had never experienced anything like that before. You want to collapse, but you can't collapse because you're holding the IV up. They're depending on you. That was real, real tough."

It was all in vain. Davis watched the man take his final breath.

There was no getting away from the misery. Temple's mother took in at least a half-dozen of the homeless, both family members and people she barely knew. Two of them are still living with her, trying to put their lives back together.

"We would watch the news and see how much water there was," Temple said. "I can't imagine how they must have felt to see their houses going underwater like that."

Eventually, a sense of normalcy returned to the LSU campus. Most of the refugees moved on to other cities, trying to rebuild the lives they once had in the Big Easy. The cots were packed away. The hoops went back up.

The Tigers had a most unexpected season, winning the Southeastern Conference's regular-season title with a lineup of three freshmen and one sophomore. They kept it up in the NCAA tournament, knocking off top-seeded Duke and No. 2 seed Texas on the way to their first Final Four since 1986.

While Katrina's fallout gave the Tigers an added sense of purpose, it wasn't a factor when they stepped on the court. Coach John Brady made that clear to his players before their opening-round game against Iona.

"He told us that the team we played in the first round wouldn't care about Katrina," Temple said. "They would be trying to win the game."

But the Tigers never forgot all those people who were watching back in Louisiana. After beating Texas to win the Atlanta Regional, Davis donned a gold, Mardi Gras-style boa, grabbed the microphone and sent a boisterous shout-out to Katrina's victims.

He wanted to give them a sense of hope. He wanted to show them some love.

That sentiment has been returned many times over.

"We've helped a lot more than I thought we would," Temple said. "I didn't really think it would be like this going in."

Imagine how good everyone will feel if the Tigers win two more games.

"A devastating thing happened. People lost their homes, their families, their lives," freshman Tasmin Mitchell said. "We want to bring a little joy back to Louisiana. We want do something good for our state and for LSU."

They already have.

The Last Two Weeks, Part II

OK, so where was I in the Kidney Stone Saga? Oh yes . . . .

So Monday I woke up at 6 a.m., having to pee really badly and half starving. While I peed, the nurse informed me that my doc wrote my orders to go NPO after 7 a.m. Breakfast didn't come until 8:30. I got seriously upset because I was HUNGRY dammit, so the nurse told me she'd call the kitchen and ask them to send me up something right away. I fell back to sleep and was awakened by the staff bringing my roommate's breakfast at 8:15. I literally started crying as my stomach growled angrily in protest. The nurse came in shortly after and realized my breakfast never came, so she left to yell at the kitchen and tell them to get me some food NOW.

At that moment, my doctor came in and said that he anticipated some surgical cancellations due to the coming snow, so he was going to TRY to get my surgery moved up. So no food, no drink, no nothing. ::sniff, stomach growls::

Doc left, kitchen woman came in with my breakfast. Do you know she actually had the NERVE to get mad at ME when she had to take it away???? I wanted that food, lady!!

Not long after that, I got to take a BetaSept shower with the assistance of a very cute and rather entertaining male CNA. I can now officially say I have showered with a man.

And that surgery? Didn't happen until 1:30. Would have happened slightly earlier, but my IV decided to infiltrate, and the nice lady from infusion services had to bring her sonogram machine up to find a decent vein into which to place the new IV.

I went home on Tuesday and still spent a lot of time in bed due to the pain. I had the stones blasted on Thursday. Before leaving the house, I took 15 mg of Lortab, but I was still in tears by the time we got to Salina. There used to be a time when 5 mg knocked me flat. The staff tried to rush an IV so they could give me morphine, but one simply cannot rush an IV in these veins. By the time they got it in, I had been lying down long enough that my back no longer hurt, so I passed on the morphine.

I've learned something in all this -- I am not the drug lightweight that I always thought I was. The anesthesiologist told me that he usually gives 15 of whatever to put someone out for the sonic blast, but he had to give me 25 -- and I kept waking up. I know because I remember it. He was surprised, he said, because I am "so small."

Oh yeah -- that IV infiltrated, too. That time it was so bad my entire hand was swollen for three days. The previous time only my wrist was swollen just a little.

The pain has been a lot better since the ultrasonic blast routine -- except for the last couple of days, that is. I actually had to call the doc's office this morning because it hurt so much to pee that I couldn't breathe. The nurse suggested that the stint is probably moving up and down and causing some inflammation. SOOOO, I'm to alternate my Percocet for pain with 600-800 mg of ibuprofen for the inflammation. Seems to be working because I haven't been hurting as much today.

Other than that, I go back on the 10th to see how things are progressing and strain my urine in the meantime.

And that's all the current fun in Dawnville.

The Last Two Weeks, Part I

So, on Monday the 13th, P was supposed to have a doctor's appointment in Hutch, but it turned out his doc had gone on vacation and his secretary decided not to notify anyone. I wasn't feeling so hot (as evidenced by the fact I didn't ask to go to Taco Hut), and it just seemed to get worse as the week wore on. By the end of Tuesday I was having extreme nausea and cramps and an incredible back ache, but a hot rice bag took care of the latter and subsequently the former. More aches and nausea on Wednesday, so much so that I took a nap in the afternoon. Same on Thursday. Thought I was just dealing with the flu, but then the backache got so bad Thursday night that I begged Dad for one of his muscle relaxers (I NEVER take other people's prescriptions) and just crawled in bed and cried and cried.

Friday morning I dragged my aching ass out of bed and in to the doctor's. He was very worried about my symptoms and the fact that I hadn't eaten or drunk anything in about four days. He had me admitted to the hospital for tests.

First there was x-ray which was uneventful. Then there were the poor guys from anesthesia who tried for an hour and a half to get a PICC line in me but couldn't get the tube to thread. They finally got an IV, which shocked the hell out of me.

Then came the numb-nuts RN to straight-line cath me for a UA (had to cath me for it since I'd started my period the day before). She stuck the tube in my vagina. I told her so, she argued with me (like I don't know my vaginal opening from my urethra -- I mean, I realize I'm not getting any, but I know the difference!), she finally found my urethra, and it felt like she was trying to stick the damn thing through my body wall. I think I might've screamed because she went away. She brought in another RN to try. SHE stuck the tube in my vagina. I told her so, she argued with me, she finally found my urethra, and while I still felt remarkably like a shish kabob, they managed to get the damn sample. I had to pee, and RN #1 suggested leaving in the cath until I was empty. I said something along the lines of, "Get the damn thing out of me and get a bed pan." Or something like that.

Later that night, after a visit from my dad and later Linda, Nathan, Alysha, and Becky from my folks' church (when Alysha gave me a piece of her artwork as a get well), I had a CT scan which was rather interesting. Got kinda mesmerized by the magnet thingy going around and around. And lots of blood milked out of my ring finger. Found out I was extremely acidotic, so much so that everyone was amazed that I didn't feel worse. It was due to my dehydration.

When my doc admitted me to the hospital, he admitted me as NPO (meaning I could have nothing by mouth). No water, no ice chips, no nothing. So naturally, I was so thirsty I wanted to scream. Everyone kept saying it would get better after my IV fluids were started, but it was a while. I whined and complained so much that Doc put me on ice chips in the late afternoon, so whenever someone came in the room (my dad, a nurse, an aide), their entry fee was a spoonful of ice. By late night (after 10 or 11 p.m.) I was allowed clear liquids. By morning I was allowed a regular diet, but I limited myself to full liquids (so I could have soup and pudding) -- I just didn't trust my tummy.

By Saturday morning the verdict was in -- kidney stone on the left, too big to pass. I was told I'd be sent to Salina on Monday, but it was changed to Sunday about fifteen seconds after Edie walked in after driving from Augusta to see me. The transfer was delayed a bit after the latest blood work showed my potassium was too low. They tried to drip the potassium directly into me over a two hour period, but the stuff set my arm on fire, so they wound up mixing two parts saline with one part potassium and dripping that into me over four hours. At one point I asked, "Why don't we just tell Salina to hold on until tomorrow, and I'll eat a couple of bananas today?"

I was taken to Salina via ambulance (with my lovely egg crate -- wasn't forgetting THAT baby) where I met the urologist who was taking me over. He scheduled me to have a stint placed in my ureter at 4:00 the next afternoon, and that evening I had my first meal in a week. I was actually hungry, and I was very glad I wasn't having surgery the next morning so that I could get in TWO meals. I tell you, a turkey sandwich and baby carrots never tasted so good.

For Stacie

I'll have to call you to give you my email addresses -- I don't like to post those on a public board. Are your home and mobile phone numbers still the same? When is a good time to call you?

Quizzes

You Are Lara Croft

"Everything lost is meant to be found."

What Superheroine Are You?

Your Inner Pop Princess Is Kelly Clarkson

"Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be" No doubt about it, you have star quality. Might just take a while to get there.

Who's Your Inner Pop Princess?

It's raining!

It's raining!

It's raining!

It's raining!

It's raining!

It's raining!

It's raining!

IT'S RAINING!!!!

::does happy gimp kitties::

Careful -- I'll wrap you up in my web!!

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 85% Hulk 80% Green Lantern 80% Wonder Woman 65% Robin 62% Superman 50% Supergirl 50% Catwoman 50% Iron Man 40% Batman 35% The Flash 15%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test

Fun times with my pals

Lynlee drove up from Wichita last Saturday to hang out. We drove into Hutch and had lunch at my fave fast food place -- Taco Hut. She had heard an ad on the radio about a yarn place in Hutch, and my mom thought she was talking about Yarn Yard, so after lunch we went there. It was an OK place, but you could tell it had been around a while. There were boxes every-freaking-where, and it was rather difficult for Reba and me to get around. I finally found where the lady had some cross-stitch kits, but it was impossible for me to get back to look at them, so I went back up to the front and just looked at the patterns. I found a Lavender & Lace brand angel that I'd like to make for one of my online pals who is COMPLETELY into angels. L found some really soft yarn.

After that we headed to the Renaissance Shoppe to check in on owner Connie. I love Connie, and I love her shop, even if this WAS only the second time I'd ever been in it. Connie is the person from whom I bought my mahogany obsidian pendulum at the RenFaire. She had two m.o. eggs and a lot of m.o. rocks in the shop that day, but none of them were speaking to me. I DID, however, find an amber ring (cognac, almost cherry), an amber pendant (with butterscotch, cognac, and green stones done in a five-pointed star), and a rainbow moonstone pendant. I spent a lot of money there -- but not as much as Lynlee! She got her money's worth though -- she also got an amber ring and a moonstone pendant, but she also got a beautiful crystal sphere that looked like it was just singing to her. She could hardly put it down once she picked it up. It really wanted to go home with her, so it did.

As we were paying for our riches, Lynlee mentioned the radio ad she had heard and that she remembered a 14 and a 15 in the address. Christine grabbed the phone book and found a place called simply Yarn -- at 15 East 14th. We went there and found a hip yarn shop with a coffee bar, a fireplace, and inviting tables and chairs for looking at crochet books or working on projects. And ALL KINDS of groovy yarn. I'm going to have to take Mom back there and pick out some yarn for her to make me some socks and/or hats out of. I think socks made out of merino wool or alpaca would just be heavenly. Though, if I pick a wool, I may have to pay L to make them for me since Mom's kind of allergic to wool.

I rode into Hutch with Mom yesterday to run errands. She had to get some money orders for Dad so he could pay his bills, and she had to get a money order to pay my uncle who was at our house with his crew laying the slab for the addition (my folks are adding a master bedroom and handicap-accessible bathroom to the North side of the house). We paid Alltel, Sears, and Home Depot for him, then went to Walmart to get stuff for lunch. As we walked in the door, there was a display full of "Walk the Line" DVDs. My folks' anniversary is tomorrow, so I grabbed the movie for Dad -- I even splurged the extra $3 and got the bonus pack with the soundtrack CD. I had no idea what my mom wanted, so we headed over to the jewelry counter and I told her to pick out something. There were quite a few mystic topaz rings (I got her a m.t. earring/necklace set for Christmas, and she LOVES it), but they were "too expensive," according to her. She finally picked out a braided silver bracelet that fits JUST RIGHT on her wrist so that she can even wear it to work and not worry about it catching on a resident's wheelchair. While she was being indecisive, I found a pair of CZ earrings cut into the shape of stars, and Mom showed me another pair of star earrings. I got both. On this particular trip, I also found something groovy for Naomi (not saying what just in case she reads this) and the new Laurell K. Hamilton "novelette." While there, Dad called to ask us to bring home charcoal, hamburgers, and buns -- he decided to make Uncle Marvin and crew lunch as an additional thank you.

By the time we got home, though, everyone but Uncle Marvin had left or was going to leave. My uncle stayed, though, and it was nice. I don't get to hang out with my mom's side of the family much since the family blow-up eight or nine years ago (when my grandparents sold their land -- including the acreage we were living on that my parents had been given as a wedding present -- to my cousin, and then she wanted to charge my folks rent on the land and wouldn't even THINK about selling them the acreage). It was nice to be able to talk with him for a while. He asked me tons of questions about New Orleans and seemed glad to get an "insider's" POV.

Late in the afternoon, Elizabeth drove out. We had supper and then went to see "Firewall." The movie was entertaining, as long as you don't think TOO hard about some of the things that might actually happen in real life. E cracked me up after the movie was over when she asked, "Is it bad that I was thinking all through that last fight scene: 'Harrison Ford is going to break a hip'?" ::laughing:: I love HF, have since Star Wars, but he IS getting a bit too up there to be doing action flicks. Like E said, it's time for him to go the Robert Redford route. I do have to say that Paul Bettany is hot even as a bad guy. He does COLD really well. My favorite character of his, though, is still Chaucer in "A Knight's Tale."

Incidentally, there were no cops on this outing with E. ::grin::

Grins

Read in the February 2006 issue of Discover:

"Bats with bigger testicles have smaller brains, according to research published by the U.K.'s Royal Society. No equivalent study is planned for humans."

Who says scientists don't have senses of humour?

Note to snackers

Don't leave your chocolate-covered raisins sitting in front of the little desk heater when you go to have lunch. They melt in the cup, not in your mouth.

Etcetera and blah blah blah

Not much going on 'round here. Been reading my FA articles amidst an emotional roller coaster. I think it's due partially to hormones and maybe also a touch of depression. I made a king cake a couple of weeks ago to take to a church function (well, Mom made it and I directed), and it made me pretty sad. I got to thinking of my friends in NOLA and NOLA itself and what a freaking mess it all still is and so on and so on. Then that night I talked to my friend Erica, and I just got sadder. It's hard to explain so I'll not even try.

But the cloud has hung on for two weeks -- enough that I have had a couple of days where I didn't read any articles but just moped all day. I have days where I'm fine and days where I just cry over stupid shit -- like the day I sobbed in Walmart because I couldn't find any dark chocolate Hershey's Kisses and because Dad wanted Taco Bell for lunch instead of Arby's. Then there's the big shit that makes me cry -- like UNO purging my hours this semester because the Board of Regents didn't pay my tuition this semester or last. They've been paying ME, but they haven't paid UNO.

Despite all this, I'll still be ready to start writing on my review next week, and that has made me a little happier. I've been trying to read for fun, too. I just finished Michael Crichton's State of Fear, and yesterday I started Stephen King's new one, Cell. AND I'm looking forward to spending some time with my good friend Lynlee who is driving up from Wichita on Saturday to rescue me from the blah that is my life at the moment.

Can you believe it?

The WSU men's basketball team is currently #1 in the Missouri Valley Conference thanks to a last second (literally) corner shot last night to beat Creighton, making them 12-4 in the conference.

::shakes head::

Would be groovy if they could hold on to it. I wonder how many conference games are left in the season? Gina?

The World of a Friend

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

Anais Nin

Sisters

Swiped from Gina's blog

A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter.

"Don't forget your Sisters," she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. "They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them."

Remember that 'Sisters' means ALL the women... Your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. "You'll need other women. Women always do." 'What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. 'Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need t o make my life worthwhile!' But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about.

As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, Sisters are the mainstays of her life. After more than 50 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned:

Time passes.
Life happens.
Distance separates.
Children grow up.
Jobs come and go.
Love waxes and wanes.
Men don't do what they're supposed to do.
Hearts break.
Parents die.
Colleagues forget favors.
Careers end.

BUT.........
Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you.
A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach.
When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you. Or come in and carry you out.

Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers, Grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life! The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I. When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other. Every day, we need each other still.


As I grow and (hopefully) mature, I've learned the value of having women in my life. I went through a period when I first moved to Wichita where I could count on one hand the number of girlfriends I had -- not counting old camp girlfriends. I thought all women were catty bitches to each other and would only be friends with me to get at the men I knew. All women were jealous of each other, and who needed that? In all honesty, a lot of the women I knew when I was 20-23 WERE that way, and some were not. I have learned to distinguish the two, I myself have grown, and I have gained some beautiful girlfriends.

When I defended my masters thesis, my primary advisor remarked that she had never seen so many personal friends show up. I DID have a lot of friends there, and the vast majority of them were women. I had to walk the valley of that defense alone, but my girlfriends were there cheering me on. Their energy and their love bolstered me through all the days leading up to that point, and their love was waiting for me at the end.

So I'm going to take this chance to tell my sisters just what they mean to me.

To my family of the heart, my soul sisters -- Anita, Jonikka, Jessie, Edie, Lisa, Naomi, Z, Melissa -- you are the ones who get to see everything about me. The good, the bad, the ugly. You know every secret of my soul, every desire of my heart, every insecurity of my brain, and you love me anyway. I truly wish there were words to express my feelings and my gratitude. Thank you for loving me in spite of me, for helping me grow, for being brutally honest, for always being there.

To all my "old" girlfriends -- Gina, Kim, Suz, Stacie, Jennifer, Tammy, Jenni, Lori, Barb, Ann, Amy, Maria, Isabel -- many of you have known me since we were little at camp, some of you met me later. ALL of you have helped me become a better person in your own special ways.

To my mentor -- Karen -- I never could have gotten this far if you hadn't decided to take a chance. I know you had to have had reservations, but you looked past the wheelchair to see the person. You guided me with gentle advice, nurturing me to be the scientist you could see in me. You gave me sturdy love, being a friend as well as an advisor.

To my dear friends -- Diana, Vicki, Kerry, E, Lynlee, Debra, Natalie, Erica, Ashley, Carol, Elaine -- Your encouragement and your cheering have helped me through so much. I only hope I can return the same to you.

To all my new friends -- Alysha, Amanda, Anna, Rachel, Laura, Danielle, Teresa, Yvette, Natalie -- thank you for giving me yet more opportunities to develop my friendship toward others, to learn how to be a better girlfriend.

To my family -- Mom, Aunt Chrys, Sarah, Jenny, Grandma Ruth, Grandma Betty, Aunt Brenda, Aunt Shelly, Aunt Sandy, Aunt Joyce, Aunt Sandy, Sonya, Nicole, Tammie, Amanda, Kyla, Tara, Ann, Rustee, Selena, Jenika, Beth, Vonda, Linda, Vana, Sandy, Aunt Dee, Aunt Deenie, Aunt Ruth, Aunt Carol, all my great-grandmothers and great-great-grandmothers I never knew -- most of you have known me my whole life, and the rest have known me YOUR whole lives, and a couple have married into the family and are still getting to know me. You were my first encouragers, the first ones to tell me I could do and be whoever and whatever I wanted. Even the ones who poo-pooed my choices added to that determination. I will be forever grateful for your lessons -- good and bad.

To my blood sister -- Stacy -- you already know what we've taught each other and what you still teach me.

To all my sisters -- a thank you that is pathetic in its inadequacy.

How I Love Living in a Small Town, OR, Adventures in Movie-Going

My friend Elizabeth came up yesterday from the "big city" so we could go to a movie together. We've been trying to arrange this pretty much since I got back to KS in September. I chose for us to go to Mac rather than Newton or Hutch because Underworld started later there, plus it was closer. The theater in Mac is basically a storefront with on-the-street parking rather than a parking lot. So E -- who hasn't driven a van in many, MANY moons -- wouldn't have to back out on to Main Street after the movie, I advised her to go up a half a block and park in the USD office lot. We got to see the entire movie in a private showing because we're so special -- i.e., we were the first ones (and the only ones) to show up to see that showing, and being a small-town theater, they didn't start it until someone showed up to see it, even if they WERE late.

After the movie (it was about 6:15 or so), we walked calmly back to the USD office and got in the van. We truly WERE calm because we'd been lulled into sleepiness by the dark theater. Yeah, I know -- we're party animals. I noticed a janitor cleaning the office windows -- he glanced at us and then walked into the building. After a couple of minutes of trying to turn on the headlights (Mom has never clearly explained to me where the switch is so I can tell others) and THOROUGHLY cleaning my windshield in the process (oops, wrong one), we sedately pulled out of the lot and head back toward my house. E was carefully watching the speed limit signs because Heaven knows you DO NOT want to get stopped by a cop in a small town.

We had just cleared the downtown business area when we noticed flashing lights in the rearview mirrors.

What was I just saying about getting stopped by a cop in a small town?

We pulled over and started quizzing each other while waiting for the cop to approach.

Me: "Did we run a red light?"

E: "I don't think so."

Me: "Well you sure weren't speeding."

E: "Nnnnoooooo."

The nice young policeman walked up then.

Officer F: "The reason I pulled you over . . . . You know that parking lot you were in back there?"

E and me: "Yes."

Officer F: "Well, the janitor called and reported that you looked suspicious."

We explained to the nice young occifer why we were parked there, and he said OK but he needs to check E's license anyway. As he is doing so, we started laughing.

E: "Well, you do know, of course, that serial killers typically drive big white vans."

Me: "Yes, but do they typically have vanity plates on their vans?"

E: "You have a vanity plate? What does it say?"

Me: "Killer8." ::much laughing:: "No, not really. By the way, you don't have any bench warrants, do you?"

E: "I don't think so, but I guess we'll find out."

She didn't, and we were allowed to continue on our way. E said, to give the guy credit, he DID seem a bit embarassed to pull us over. ::snort:: He just doesn't know what a 5'2" woman and gimp can do on a good day, now does he?

Mom and Dad laughed about it when we told them, and Mom told me later she was going to have to restrict my going out with friends if we couldn't control our rabble rousing. ::grin:: If she only knew . . . .

Well, the more Dad thought about it, the more irritated he got. So this morning he'd worked himself up and called the USD office on the way to his doctor's appointments. Neither the superintendent nor his/her assistant was there (what'd he expect -- he was calling at just after 8 am), but he did talk to the person who was "in charge" of the janitor. When he opened with, "I have a complaint about your janitor," the guy replied, "Oh man, not again."

Truly, I tried to talk Dad out of calling, but he said, "No, that's just ridiculous. You're in a wheelchair and Elizabeth looks like she's about 80 pounds. Just how threatening could you guys have looked? It was harassment, pure and simple." Oh well. That's my protective Daddy.

NOLA pics

One of these days, I'll figure out how to get these to post in the order I want them!





This is my goofy pal Erica. On her way to my apartment one Sunday afternoon to help me use the bathroom and make supper, she cut across campus via a different route on her bike and happened across some Indian students having a festival at the amphitheater. She stopped to listen to the music, and a little boy invited her in. Next thing she knew, she had pink powder on her face!

I doubt that she'll be returning to NOLA because all she has left to complete her masters in public health is her internship. That she'll be doing either in Mexico or Central America (most likely the former) because her interests lie with Latino communities. I'll miss her because she was the one person I could always count on for a laugh. She always knows how to cheer me up.

She's also the only person who has ever gotten me to dance in a club. She talked me into salsa dancing with her at the Blue Nile when we took out my next door neighbor before he moved to Chicago. Yeah, she's crazy like that -- and no, I hadn't been drinking!

Here is a great shot taken by my pal Natalie (you'll meet her in a minute) of one of the many mimosa trees by the Liberal Arts building on campus. There's a giant yard on the North side of the building that is nothing but mimosa and magnolia trees. It's beautiful when they're all in bloom (about April and May), and the energy of the trees is phenomenal. I shudder to think what happened to them in the hurricane.

This is my pal Melissa. She was a masters student in the bio department and had the desk next to mine. We shared an office for about four or five months before we finally became friends. Part of it was our conflicting schedules, part of it was me taking forever to warm up to new people -- we all KNOW how I am. We discovered we had a lot in common, especially our life philosophies. She is also the person who introduced me to sushi.

In this pic, Erica, Natalie, Natalie's man at that time, and I were having an end-of-the-semester barbecue. Melissa stopped by but couldn't attend because she was getting ready to move back to Pennsylvania. She'd had it with her thesis advisor and was taking a job with a pharmaceutical company back home. She's much happier, but I miss her terribly.

This is a crepe myrtle. These lovely trees come with blooms from white to lilac (seen here) to deep purple to pale pink to magenta. They remind me of lilacs though they don't have a scent. This particular specimen grows in front of the apartment building next door to mine (you can see the end of my building behind the pine tree on the left). Two lilac-colored crepe myrtles grow in front of my building, but they hadn't fully bloomed at the time of this photo because they faced the West.

And here is Natalie. She is the third of my best pals I've made in NOLA (Erica and 'Lissa being the other two). Natalie is the one I counted on to be brutally honest. When I had a major shot dealt to my self-esteem, Natalie was the first one I told. Like a good friend, she listened sympathetically, asking questions to be sure she understood what I was feeling but generally lending an ear. Then, also like a good friend, she said, "OK, you've taken a blow to your ego. What are you going to do about it?"

Natalie now lives in NYC attending Columbia for a double masters in public health and social work. Also, interestingly, now she's dating a boy from Kansas. I laughed when she told me that. I'm happy for her, but I miss her terribly as well.

Some pictures

This is the dreamcatcher my "niece" Jamie and my "sister" Frances made me for my birthday. I got it after Christmas because "you were far away on your birthday, Aunty Dawn." I love that the webbing makes a star in the center. When Mom was hanging it, Jamie told me that she has a dreamcatcher, too. Mom asked her if she knew who had made it, and she shrugged. Her eyes got huge when I told her I made it for her when she was a little baby (she's four now). "You made my dreamcatcher, Aunty Dawn? Now *I* made one for *you*!"





Here are the "snugglin' boys" -- Rebel in the background, Rommel in the fore. Can you believe Rommel isn't even a year old yet?

Yes, that's my Reba girl all cocooned in my old baby blanket. She gets chilly after having her hair cut (which she did yesterday), so Mom covers her up -- usually only when we go to bed, but Mom decided Reba might want to take a nap while I had a bathroom break this afternoon. Personally, I think Mom just spoils the dog!

This pic is for Lynlee. A few months ago, L had a "guess how many full skeins of yarn I have" contest, and I won third place. The prize was yarn. Some of my loot was Lion Brand Watercolors yarn, and Mom and I decided to make my eight-year-old second cousin Selena a poncho because she LOOOOVES pink -- and I thought she'd look great in this hot pink (she has beautiful skin thanks to her Hispanic daddy). Rather than crocheting the tie like the instructions said, we decided to thread some coordinating turquoise ribbon through the neck. The poncho was a massive hit with Selena.

Well, this has been fun, but dial-up takes forever to upload the pics. I'll try to post more tomorrow. Have some pics of my pals in NOLA I'd like to share.

Meme

Four Jobs You Have Had In Your Life
1. Student assistant in counseling office at Hutch JUCO and at WSU admissions.
2. Freshman advisor for WSU housing
3. Graduate assistant
4. Academic instructor for UBMS and for bio

Four Movies You Could Watch Over and Over
1. Harry Potters
2. LOTRs
3. Jurassic Park -- Jeff Goldblum in black -- hubba hubba!
4. Sense and Sensibility -- Alan Rickman, baby!

Four Places You Have Lived
1. Trimley St. Martin, England
2. Barksdale AFB, Shreveport, LA
3. Buhler, KS
4. NOLA

Four TV Shows You Love(d) to Watch
1. MacGyver
2. Both Stargates
3. The Sentinel -- IT'S COMING OUT ON DVD!!!!!
4. Numb3rs

Four Places You Have Been on Vacation
1-4. What's a vacation?

Four Places You Want to Visit
1. Scotland
2. Greece
3. Africa (anywhere)
4. Germany

Four Websites You Visit Daily
1. My LJ friends page
2. Lynlee
3. Elizabeth
4. My UNO email for more FEMA updates

Four of Your Favorite Foods
1. Dad's chili
2. Mom's meatloaf
3. Naomi's chicken burritos
4. My shrimp/chicken/catfish/some-combo-of-those creole

Four Things Currently on the Floor in Your Car
1-4. Leaves that were stuck to my tires (I'm anal about keeping my van clean, but I haven't gotten around to getting the leaves vacuumed out yet)

Four Bloggers You are Tagging
1. E
2. Gina
3. Stacie
4. Amanda

Five years ago

Five years ago yesterday, something happened that I thought wouldn't happen for thirty or forty more years at least. Even then, I thought for sure it would happen to me first.

My younger sister died.

Some people say when you have a tragedy of that magnitude happen that everything blurs together and the trauma causes your brain to lock away details as a mode of self-protection.

I and my brain are not normal.

I remember nearly every detail of that day from the moment my brother called to tell me to the moment I went to bed that night. I remember vividly the way all my breath just disappeared -- not in a rush, but just like it vanished. Poof, gone. I remember the confusion I felt that no one knew what had happened. I mean, a 27-year-old doesn't just die for no reason. I remember the sick feeling I got in my stomach when I had to tell my mother. I remember choking on the phone as I told Lady and being amazed when she and Mouse dropped everything to come stay the night with me. I remember fielding a million phone calls on my house phone and my cell phone -- all with Mouse's and Lady's help, thank the Higher. I remember nearly losing it as I listened to my cousin Jimmy crying over the phone -- those side-hitching sobs of the truly heart-broken. I remember asking M and L to get me the hell out of my apartment at about ten that night. I remember buying a Stacy-appropriate blouse to wear to the funeral. I remember getting home and falling completely apart in M's and L's arms -- nearly ten hours after I first got the news -- with those same side-hitching sobs I'd heard from my cousin. I remember thinking that their holding me was the only thing keeping me together, that if not for them, I would have fallen into a pile of sorrow and anger with absolutely no physical form any more. I remember wanting to burst apart with the sorrow and anger, but they just wouldn't let me. And I remember in the middle of the crying, my sister ringing my fish chimes to tell me she was all right, that I would be all right.

Five years ago, my sister died. I thought I was going to die from all the things left unsaid and the hurt.

Obviously, I didn't die, and I think in the ensuing five years I've learned a lot of lessons from my sister's living and dying. I've accepted that she had accomplished the task she had been put here in this life to do, and I've accepted that no matter how much I want to, I may never know what that task was. I've learned that life is too short to hold back on how you feel -- whether you are holding back hurt, anger, and frustration or peace, happiness, and love. Doesn't mean I don't still hold back on some things, though. I've learned I shouldn't, but I'm still learning how to not. I've learned that my sister and I had come to some kind of understanding about our different personalities. I've learned that despite our differences, we loved each other as much as two sisters can. I've learned to fight for what you really believe in. I've learned to never compromise yourself.

Some of these things I learned directly from an examination of my sister's life. Others I've learned from an examination of myself since her death.

And I'm still learning.

X marks the spot -- from Lynlee

"X" your confessions:

[ ] I'm afraid of the quiet
[ ] I am really ticklish
[ ] I'm afraid of the dark
[X] I'm afraid of facing my back to open doors at night (or anytime, for that matter)
[ ] I believe in true love
[ ] I've run away from home
[X] I listen to political music (I'm counting my friend Steve's "angry" album, here)
[ ] I collect comic books
[X] I shut others out when I'm sad
[ ] I open up to others easily
[X] I am keeping a secret
[X] I watch the news
[ ] I own more than 5 rap CDs
[X] I own something from Hot Topic (well, I did until it was ruined by mold)
[X] I love Disney movies (some of them, anyway)
[X] I'm a sucker for blue eyes (or brown, doesn't matter)
[X] I don't kill bugs
[X] I curse regularly
[ ] I have "x"s in my screen name
[ ] I've slipped out an "lol" in actual conversation
[ ] I love spam (spam spam spam spam spammity spam!!)
[ ] I bake well
[X] I have worn pajamas to class
[ ] I have owned something from Abercrombie
[X] I have a job
[ ] I love Martha Stewart
[X] I've tried alcohol
[ ] I drink alcohol on a regular basis
[ ] I've tried a cigarette
[ ] I've smoked a pack in one day
[ ] I have cough drops when I'm not sick
[ ] I can't swallow pills
[X] I have many scars
[X] I've been out of this country
[ ] I can't sleep if there's a spider in the room
[X] I love chocolate
[ ] I bite my nails
[ ] I'm comfortable with being myself around EVERYONE
[X] I play computer games when I'm bored
[X] Gotten lost in the city
[X] Seen a shooting star
[X] Had a serious surgery
[X] Hugged and/or kissed a stranger (gotta love Latinos)
[ ] Been arrested
[X] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator
[ ] Made out in an elevator
[X] Swore at my parents
[ ] Kicked a guy where it hurts
[X] Gotten stitches
[X] Bitten someone (but only because my mom MADE me)
[X] Crashed into a car (with my wheelchair trying to go across the seriously sloped Levitt arena parking lot when it was covered in ice)
[ ] Shoplifted
[ ] Been fired
[X] Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
[ ] Stolen money/profitable items from work
[X] Stolen supplies from work
[X] Had a crush on a teacher/coach
[ ] Slept with a co-worker
[ ] Been married
[ ] Gotten divorced
[X] Saw someone/something dying
[ ] Been to Canada
[X] Been on a plane
[ ] Thrown up in a bar

Overdue health and NOLA updates

Apparently my mitral valve prolapse (which my cardiologist also heard) is not serious enough to be seen on a ultrasound, so Dr. B (my cardiologist) is not worried about it at all. She DID, however, see that my tricuspid valve (the one between the RIGHT atrium and ventricle) is wonky, but she said that particular valve just isn't all that important. She told me about a 90-year-old Indian woman in the SW she saw once that popped hers completely apart carrying a sheep down a mountain. She declined having the valve repaired, and a year later she was still carting sheep down the mountain. Since I'm probably going to be here until at least February, Dr. B did go ahead and switch my prescription vasodilator to a different one. I take the medicine to dilate the blood vessels in my legs to reduce edema, and turns out a side effect of Adalat (the med I was taking) is edema. Not only that, but it is such a powerful vasodilator that it tricks the heart and makes it pump harder and faster, thus a potential cause of my resting heart rate (80 beats per minute on average, sometimes higher) and my heart palpitations.

See, this is why when taking "heart" medications, you should really be under the care/supervision of a cardiologist. Make a note, kids.

Dr. B had been reluctant to switch the med last month when she wasn't sure how long I'd be here. She's a conscientious doctor and likes to monitor the patients after a med switch. Imagine that! ::grin:: When she heard I'd be here for at least two more months, she switched me to the lowest dose of Norvasc. Now we just keep an eye on my feet. If I notice swelling, I'm to double my dose. If that doesn't work, we try another med. I started the Norvasc today, and I HAVE noticed that my chest doesn't feel as heavy. Keep your fingers crossed.

Now, about being here. UNO has received authorization for 400 single-wide (16' X 32') FEMA trailers for faculty and student housing for next semester. I talked to Barney last Friday, and he said they likely won't even arrive until February -- two to three weeks AFTER the Spring semester starts. I just don't see how I can live in a single-wide with Reba and at least one other person (they are two bedroom trailers), not to mention I'm sure the bathroom situation would be worse than my campus apartment. So I may be here for a while longer. As such, I will probably enroll in nine hours of research and get my review article cranked out. If I don't, I'll receive a U in the said nine hours of research, and then I might as well start looking for that bank teller job my grandmother always wanted me to get. I am not going there! I'm not!

Holiday Eating Tips

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like in single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards!!!!!!!!!!!!

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

ENJOY!

From one of my online lists

TEN FIRSTS
First Best Friend: My sister
First Screen Name: Diceros
First Pet: Dartanion
First Piercing: Ears (only)
First Crush: Gregg in the 4th grade
First CD: A country mix
First Car: 1984 Dodge Ram Van
First True Love: John the physics grad (you caught me on a day I'll admit it)
First Stuffed Animal: First I remember were a baby seal and a bear in plaid overalls
First Trip: Home from the hospital after I was born

NINE LASTS
Last Car Ride: This morning
Last Movie Seen: HP and the Goblet of Fire
Last Phone Call: Kender saying she was on her way for lunch
Last CD Played: Currently a mix CD I made for studying
Last Bubble bath: Too long ago to remember
The Last time you Cried: Couple of days ago
Last time you laughed: Couple of minutes ago in the bathroom with Maria
Last time you fell: Years ago, thank goodness -- I always seriously hurt myself when I fall

EIGHT HAVE YOU EVERS
Have you ever dated one of your best friends: No
Have you ever been arrested: No
Have you ever skinny dipped: No
Have you ever been on tv: Yes, many times
Have you ever kissed someone and then regreted it: No
Have you ever been to a concert: Yes
Have you ever gone commando: Yes, but only because I had taken a shower and then realized I was out of undies

SEVEN THINGS YOU ARE WEARING
1. My ever-present rhino ring
2. Birthstone stud in my second ear piercing of my left ear
3. My favorite pair of jeans
4. A T-shirt I got from the Memphis Zoo
5. Bracelet of jade, onyx, and undetermined stones I bought myself
6. Bracelet of hematite, tiger eye, onyx, carnelian, and blue and green quartz my brother gave me
7. A comfy black sweater

SIX THINGS YOU'VE DONE TODAY
1. Found some journal articles on the red wolf for an assignment due Friday
2. Picked the discussion articles for next week's conservation genetics class
3. Had lunch with Kender and Will
4. Peed
5. Visited with Isabel across the hall
6. Talked to Moonchild on the phone

FIVE PEOPLE YOU HANG OUT WITH TODAY
1. Kender
2. Will
3. Isabel
4. Maria
5. My Reba

FOUR PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ALMOST ANYTHING TO
1. Kender
2. Moonchild
3. Hywela
4. Nay

THREE CHOICES
1. Hot or Cold: Hot
2. Black or white: Black
3. Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate

TWO THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE
1. Make a contribution in my career field
2. Find out what a romantic relationship is all about -- even if I just do it once

ONE THING YOU REGRET
1. Never working out things completely with my sister

PT and pretties

Let me just go on record now as saying . . .

. . . I LOVE physical therapy!

I got all kinds of things manipulated and stretched, making my blood circulate, and at one point I almost fell asleep on poor Sheryl. She also taught me a great little exercise to do when this tiny muscle at the base of my skull starts bothering me. I just did it right before starting on this entry, and the muscle quit hurting like that! ::snaps fingers::

As I was getting ready to leave, Sheryl told Mom and me about a jewelry sale they were having in the lobby of the front entrance. We headed around there, and I lost my fool mind. Most of the stuff they had was stuff I don't like -- semiprecious gemstones, a lot of gold -- you know, stuff everyone NORMAL likes. They did, however, have some lovely amber and some nice jade. You'll all be shocked to learn I didn't buy any amber. Wait, wait -- let me explain. The unusual pieces I really REALLY liked were way overpriced. I did, however, buy a round peridot set in a thick silver band, and while it IS a semiprecious gemstone, it is my birthstone and a rather "unusual" one in that you don't see many people wearing it. Most jewelers set it in gold which is a TRAVESTY because it takes away from the shine and beauty. Silver is a much better setting. I also bought a multi-hued jade bracelet with a few bits of onyx thrown in for good measure. At least, the lady SAYS they're all jade, but I think it's two (maybe three) shades of jade. There's definitely green and lavender jade, the opaque white could be jade or could be quartz, and I think the clearer stones are moonstone. I'll ask Nay the next time I see her.

Updates

Monday I had my first PT appointment, so since I was supposed to get out of my chair, I finally started my period. Needless to say, I didn't get out of my chair. My therapist Sheryl is pretty awesome -- very thorough and very open. She started to have a fit about me not leaning against the back of my chair, but when I explained to her why I've never allowed anyone to build it out, she listened to me and conceded it was probably best for me. She took a lot of measurements, and we ended with her stretching my elbows and shoulders. I even got a bit of a shoulder and upper back massage as she was checking the tightness in my shoulders. AAAAHH!! ::grin:: When she was stretching and checking the contracture in my left elbow, I felt a burning which at the time I attributed to the muscle being stretched. Found out when I was getting ready for bed that night that she had actually accidentally torn the skin in the crook of my elbow. Whoops! You know, I never realized that skin tears can hurt SO BAD!

After PT, Mom and I got lunch at Mickey D's (and I remembered why I don't eat there very often -- UGH!) and then headed for Salina to check out a van I'd seen in Friday's "Wheels For You" paper. We'd called the sales rep I'd talked to on Saturday, so he had the van out front and open for us when we got there. I rolled up on the lift and raised myself up into it like I already owned it, then he grabbed a tag and we headed off for a test drive. We talked price after, Mom got a quote on tags, and I signed all the papers. Drove home, put my FEMA and Sept./Oct. stipend checks in the bank, drew up a cashier's check, and Mom and Dad went back to get the van.

Braved the frigid wind on Tuesday to go to Hutch to get insurance on my new van and go to the pulmonologist.

Got to the pulmonary function test fifteen minutes early. They got me right in, performed very few tests compared to the PFT I did in NOLA, and I was done an hour and fifteen minutes before my appointment with the doc. Turned out to be a good thing since there were labs and x-rays to do that no one had told me about. Labs always take forever on me because I'm a hard stick under the best of circumstances (my blood vessels are small and roll all over the place), but get me cold and you ain't gettin' ANY blood without at least one hot pack. When I came out, I literally looked like a human pin-cushion with bandages on both hands (the blood chem draw -- one miss and one success) and one wrist (the blood gas draw -- I always wonder how many people I pass on the street think I've attempted suicide). X-rays went quickly, then it was hurry up and wait for the doc.

Pulmonology appointment was fine -- for me. I learned I basically ventilate off my right lung only since about two thirds of my left lung is squished to invisibility. The bottom third is there and all expanded though. I don't need any extra asthma meds, but he gave me samples of Allegra to try to help with mucus if I get a lot, and he also told me to try OTC Mucinex. I really like this doc because he took the time to go through EVERYTHING -- WITH ME. I also liked when he said, "If you get a cold, I want to know about it. If you get a sinus infection, I want to know about it. If you start making more mucus, I want to know about it. If you feel like your asthma is changing, I want to know about it." He's thorough, he knows how serious pneumonia or ANY lung stuff can be for us (I suspect he knew even BEFORE he took care of P last year when he almost died twice), and he took the time to give me literature on asthma when I told him no one has ever educated me about it.

Yesterday I went on campus to get my toxicology quiz done. It was due by noon, I only had two of nine questions completed, and I just wasn't getting anything done at home. Got it done, had lunch with Lunarbabe (sans Kender since she was home sick -- ::waves at Kender::), and hung out with P for a while and watched an episode of "Numb3rs." When Mom got there, it was shower time (lots of hot water and the bedroom heater cranked -- poor Mom), then off to Wally World to buy heavy curtains for my room and a couple of convex mirrors for Moby (that's what I've decided to call the van, thanks to E). I splurged on a peace symbol keychain -- if I can't have the hippie '71 VW Westphalia I wanted, I'll get the hippie keychain!

It's official

Two months and two weeks (exactly) after I left NOLA thinking "I'll only be gone three or four days," I can now with certainty say . . .

. . . pretty much everything in my apartment is toast.

The visible mold goes up the walls three to four feet, so everything touching them -- like a handmade quilt from my grandmother, a comforter my mom made, my comfy sweaters, and probably the rhino picture Z drew for me years ago and the puzzles my now-dead grandfather gave me -- are infected.

My bed is infected.

Some of my books are infected.

My papers -- including family genealogy -- are infected.

The box holding my essential oils -- hundreds of dollars and years of accumulation worth -- buckled when it was lifted. Chad says the oils inside are fine. I can only hope he's right.

The box in the closet holding a blanket and slippers my mom crocheted for me is infected.

Chad took "a few" pictures he thought were OK, as many books as he could, my jewelry, the filing cabinet, some clothes he thinks are OK, and the box of oils. He's going to keep it in his garage until I come back.

Most of that may have to be thrown away anyway just to be safe. You can't mess around with mold.

Minimalist is good, right?

Click click click

Had a doctor's appointment this morning about my aching back and some chest pain. Some of the pain is my asthma, but he said he heard some "clicking" in my heart. Thinks I might have a leaky valve. I'm waiting for the cardiologist to call me with an appointment.