I have so many questions after the two-hour finale. Once the credits rolled, I was convinced there would be some kind of epilogue, something, anything! But no. I’m left with questions and that’s awful for me. Similar to the end of Inception, I will peruse the internets until I find the answers. But until then, here is my list:
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
My Mom Has Cancer ... Take 2
It was after the new year, so the great thing is we could say she'd been cancer-free for at least 6 months. In chemo world, that's a big deal because it means she is sensitive to platinum-based drugs. Otherwise, they'd have to try something else ... probably even a trial of some sort. But here we are, where we were this time last year: the infusion room. Only this time last year, we were just about done with the sessions. This one feels longer, because it takes longer. And the side effects are weirder, less straight forward, more sporadic.
The worry that without surgery there's a possibility that the tumor could still be growing is pretty daunting and we probably shouldn't think about it. But we do. She does. And while on the outside, it may look like she's calmed down and entered a good place of 'the chemo will work; it is working', on the inside, I think she's constantly thinking that it's not working, and that valuable time is being wasted. But she is a woman of science, she has to believe that the drugs work. And that's why I think it's hard for her to admit her fears to the doctors and the NP, because questioning the approach puts into question everything she's ever believed. She was stronger last time around; we all saw that the approach worked, we saw the numbers go down. We were given positive reinforcement every step of the way. But it's not like that anymore. This is a different journey, and it's unpredictable.
We had the genetic counselor stop by. We went through the family, the cancers, the possibilities of what could be coming for me. My sister. Even my female cousins. It's going to be difficult either way, but I don't think I don't want to know. I think I'm better knowing; my imagination gets away from me too easily. And it's not like I can't do anything about it when I do know. I can do lots of things; surgeries and whatever. I don't have to wait until 40 if I don't want kids, but of course my other stuff might get all out of whack. I'm just trying to think of the type of person I am though. I'm risk averse for the most part. I'm not taking risks, I'm not doing things that don't have strong probabilities of success. So say my mom had the gene (either one, it doesn't matter); would I really continue life business-as-usual knowing that I now have at least a 50 percent chance of getting cancer? That just seems dumb. But it depends on the person. My cousin says she wouldn't do anything. My sister says she'd have her breasts removed. In any case, at least we don't have to pay for the testing.
So that's where we are. Lots of unknowns. Chemo #3 is coming up next week, and though it should only take 2 hours, other things (blood, fluids) have kept us there for longer than we'd like, especially when you don't even have a window seat!
The worry that without surgery there's a possibility that the tumor could still be growing is pretty daunting and we probably shouldn't think about it. But we do. She does. And while on the outside, it may look like she's calmed down and entered a good place of 'the chemo will work; it is working', on the inside, I think she's constantly thinking that it's not working, and that valuable time is being wasted. But she is a woman of science, she has to believe that the drugs work. And that's why I think it's hard for her to admit her fears to the doctors and the NP, because questioning the approach puts into question everything she's ever believed. She was stronger last time around; we all saw that the approach worked, we saw the numbers go down. We were given positive reinforcement every step of the way. But it's not like that anymore. This is a different journey, and it's unpredictable.
We had the genetic counselor stop by. We went through the family, the cancers, the possibilities of what could be coming for me. My sister. Even my female cousins. It's going to be difficult either way, but I don't think I don't want to know. I think I'm better knowing; my imagination gets away from me too easily. And it's not like I can't do anything about it when I do know. I can do lots of things; surgeries and whatever. I don't have to wait until 40 if I don't want kids, but of course my other stuff might get all out of whack. I'm just trying to think of the type of person I am though. I'm risk averse for the most part. I'm not taking risks, I'm not doing things that don't have strong probabilities of success. So say my mom had the gene (either one, it doesn't matter); would I really continue life business-as-usual knowing that I now have at least a 50 percent chance of getting cancer? That just seems dumb. But it depends on the person. My cousin says she wouldn't do anything. My sister says she'd have her breasts removed. In any case, at least we don't have to pay for the testing.
So that's where we are. Lots of unknowns. Chemo #3 is coming up next week, and though it should only take 2 hours, other things (blood, fluids) have kept us there for longer than we'd like, especially when you don't even have a window seat!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Pre-Chemo #5
So look at that, we're almost done with chemo. #5 tomorrow and then #6 in three weeks and then that's it. Or it should be it, anyway. All signs (and tests) point to the cancer being gone, but I just don't know how certain we can be. In any case, it's good to be almost done. It seems like it's taken forever to get here. I just don't want us to be thinking oh, that's it, everything's clear if there's some other step we're missing. Will it return? How long until that happens? What do we do until then? Just kind of go on and think that everything is fine? Is this how it usually happens for women in this position? Do they think it's gone because all signs point to gone and then 9 months later, whoops, it's back? That's what I hate, there's just so much we don't know.
I suppose we have to just stick with taking it one day at a time. I mean, back in November, we didn't know how much hope we could have because it all just seemed like it was too much to handle.
Yay spring.
I suppose we have to just stick with taking it one day at a time. I mean, back in November, we didn't know how much hope we could have because it all just seemed like it was too much to handle.
Yay spring.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Day-after Chemo #2
Chemo day is a very not-a-big-deal type of thing. I think it's because people are just constantly going in and out, getting their chemo and then getting up and leaving. I don't know why I thought there would be hospital beds and people in gowns, and those really terrible blue hats on bald heads. It's totally not like that at all.
Mom's chemo is basically 6 hours. I don't know if we can get it down to less than 6, but so far, the first half of the day is a lot of waiting then the chemo comes, then an afternoon of waiting. So we're sitting, and I'm trying not to kill my phone for having basically no connection to 3G. Oh, it says the connection is fine, but nothing's loading. I blame Cambridge. We're just too close to them, and they're sucking all the data out of AT&T. That's my biggest gripe of the day, with my mom having cancer in the middle of her chemo, and I'm thinking 'F U AT&T'. I probably said it a few times too. Mum was connecting her kindle to the hospital network; it's bad -- I know -- but she's wifi only and has to sit in a chair all day, insecure network it is!
The great news is that the test that tells you whether you've got lots of ovarian cancer is showing a nice steady decline. After one chemo, the test was at 23. She started at 600 something back in November. Huge deal. My fear was that it would decline because of the surgery and then you couldn't isolate the fact that the chemo actually works, but it's basically considered 'normal' now so why not just secure that normality with a bit of chemo.
Downside and totally unrelated problem is that my best friend at work is basically leaving. I mean, he hasn't made the decision yet, but I wouldn't turn it down if I was him. That just really sucks. Emotionally, I've already sort of been hit enough I think, and now this is just another bit of crap that I have to adjust to. I'm not good with change and there's been too much of that lately. Time to settle.
Mom's chemo is basically 6 hours. I don't know if we can get it down to less than 6, but so far, the first half of the day is a lot of waiting then the chemo comes, then an afternoon of waiting. So we're sitting, and I'm trying not to kill my phone for having basically no connection to 3G. Oh, it says the connection is fine, but nothing's loading. I blame Cambridge. We're just too close to them, and they're sucking all the data out of AT&T. That's my biggest gripe of the day, with my mom having cancer in the middle of her chemo, and I'm thinking 'F U AT&T'. I probably said it a few times too. Mum was connecting her kindle to the hospital network; it's bad -- I know -- but she's wifi only and has to sit in a chair all day, insecure network it is!
The great news is that the test that tells you whether you've got lots of ovarian cancer is showing a nice steady decline. After one chemo, the test was at 23. She started at 600 something back in November. Huge deal. My fear was that it would decline because of the surgery and then you couldn't isolate the fact that the chemo actually works, but it's basically considered 'normal' now so why not just secure that normality with a bit of chemo.
Downside and totally unrelated problem is that my best friend at work is basically leaving. I mean, he hasn't made the decision yet, but I wouldn't turn it down if I was him. That just really sucks. Emotionally, I've already sort of been hit enough I think, and now this is just another bit of crap that I have to adjust to. I'm not good with change and there's been too much of that lately. Time to settle.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Chemo #1 is Complete
So this is post-first chemo and post-Christmas and pre-New Years. Mom has had her hair cut short and bought a wig in an effort to minimize the scary reality of when her hair falls out in clumps. That should happen soon, the hair falling out part, but I think she's adapting well to the new hair on her head. It's lighter and a little longer, but honestly reminds me of how her hair used to be in the late 80s. I know this because we have video footage from that time.
The chemo itself is a pretty straight-forward process. She spent the entire day in a chair as the drugs were administered through her IV -- she has a port for that -- and once it was done, we went home. She didn't feel much the first couple of days, but then on day 3, she had aches in her legs. That's the chemo getting to her bone marrow, and means that it's working. But she did not feel much nausea, and if she did, she took the pills that were prescribed. 3 different kinds. People have been very supportive, and aren't hovering for the most part. We're just trying to get on like we normally do.
Next chemo is mid-January. They may or may not do a test before that to judge how effective the first treatment was, and it will be interesting to see what the numbers are. Luckily the CA-125 test is a pretty good judge of what's happening in that part of her body, but I don't know what they do to track the rest of her. Like how do we know cancer won't just pop up somewhere else without even knowing?
I'm doing okay. People ask and I just say I'm okay. But every now and then I do think like 'what if' and I hate it. I don't want to be thinking any bad thoughts, they don't help anyone. But like I did for her surgery, I want to be prepared if it's not good, because I can't be taken by surprise. I think it's scarier that way, then you really don't know what to ask/do, you'll just freak out a lot.
I've realized that most of what I do at work is pretty meaningless now. I mean, I suppose it was always kind of meaningless, but since my mom's gotten cancer, I've treated it more and more like it's meaningless. I'm not going to fight people, because are we really going to sit around a table and debate little stupid things? Really? I just want to get shit done and go home. And so my heart really isn't in any of it, which makes it very difficult to write effectively and or even read stuff to find problems. There will always be problems, and my days of trying to fix them are numbered. I'm almost certain.
The chemo itself is a pretty straight-forward process. She spent the entire day in a chair as the drugs were administered through her IV -- she has a port for that -- and once it was done, we went home. She didn't feel much the first couple of days, but then on day 3, she had aches in her legs. That's the chemo getting to her bone marrow, and means that it's working. But she did not feel much nausea, and if she did, she took the pills that were prescribed. 3 different kinds. People have been very supportive, and aren't hovering for the most part. We're just trying to get on like we normally do.
Next chemo is mid-January. They may or may not do a test before that to judge how effective the first treatment was, and it will be interesting to see what the numbers are. Luckily the CA-125 test is a pretty good judge of what's happening in that part of her body, but I don't know what they do to track the rest of her. Like how do we know cancer won't just pop up somewhere else without even knowing?
I'm doing okay. People ask and I just say I'm okay. But every now and then I do think like 'what if' and I hate it. I don't want to be thinking any bad thoughts, they don't help anyone. But like I did for her surgery, I want to be prepared if it's not good, because I can't be taken by surprise. I think it's scarier that way, then you really don't know what to ask/do, you'll just freak out a lot.
I've realized that most of what I do at work is pretty meaningless now. I mean, I suppose it was always kind of meaningless, but since my mom's gotten cancer, I've treated it more and more like it's meaningless. I'm not going to fight people, because are we really going to sit around a table and debate little stupid things? Really? I just want to get shit done and go home. And so my heart really isn't in any of it, which makes it very difficult to write effectively and or even read stuff to find problems. There will always be problems, and my days of trying to fix them are numbered. I'm almost certain.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Pre-Chemo Shenanigans
We met Dr. K on Monday and chemo will begin next Monday morning. Dr. K is all kinds of awesomeness and made mom feel pretty good that she's got a basic form of ovarian cancer that lots of women have, and therefore, there should be no surprises. Of course, every single person in this world is different in how they respond to chemo, so let's just leave it at that.
Thursday morning was a very quick wig appointment. She started off by saying that she wanted a wig that looked just like her hair (a la Samantha in SATC, remember that one?). And in the end, she picked hair that was lighter, with some fun highlights, and a big longer. They can style it once they order it. But I wonder how much she'll actually wear it. I know she'll be self-conscious, thinking everyone will know it's not her real hair. We'll have to stock up on hats as well.
And then finally, she had her port put in. I don't know why the doctor called it a quick procedure when it took 2 hours and required mom to be put under and then not shower for two days. That's so weird. To me, quick is like 20 minutes, and no scar. But I guess overall, this will make the chemo a much smoother process. We can only hope.
Mom wants to have both christmas eve and day at the house. She wants to cook some stuff, not everything. Mind you, this will be just 5 days after her first chemo. I just don't want her to get overwhelmed or feel miserable while she preparing stuff. Again, we'll take it slow. I can always make the shrimp.
Thursday morning was a very quick wig appointment. She started off by saying that she wanted a wig that looked just like her hair (a la Samantha in SATC, remember that one?). And in the end, she picked hair that was lighter, with some fun highlights, and a big longer. They can style it once they order it. But I wonder how much she'll actually wear it. I know she'll be self-conscious, thinking everyone will know it's not her real hair. We'll have to stock up on hats as well.
And then finally, she had her port put in. I don't know why the doctor called it a quick procedure when it took 2 hours and required mom to be put under and then not shower for two days. That's so weird. To me, quick is like 20 minutes, and no scar. But I guess overall, this will make the chemo a much smoother process. We can only hope.
Mom wants to have both christmas eve and day at the house. She wants to cook some stuff, not everything. Mind you, this will be just 5 days after her first chemo. I just don't want her to get overwhelmed or feel miserable while she preparing stuff. Again, we'll take it slow. I can always make the shrimp.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Slowly starting to settle in
I actually thought I was doing pretty well in trying not to bottle all of this up, but I guess even then, nothing can stop that one moment where you just feel sad and you need to cry. I don't know what I am, I don't think I'm an optimist, not a pessimist, maybe a realist, but I constantly think about this fantasy world where everything is okay. Mum has started up a journal to keep people updated, and maybe that's what I need to do as well. Not for other people, but for me. Because I think it's always been easier for me to vocalize my thoughts through words. It got me through college and grad school, didn't it? And I do miss looking back on the moments I decided to capture and laughing because of how stupid I was.
Every little bit of me was confident that this was all just a blip in the road, that it wouldn't make any sense that there was cancer so therefore there should be no cancer. And so maybe I was being cautiously optimistic by not looking too far into the future (even though we did, secretly, want to look into the future so that we could start planning) because I didn't want to jinx it. I doubt cancer hides around the corner until you forget about it only to jump out and scare the shit out of you at the most opportune time. But for two whole weeks, we were led to believe that there was a strong chance that it wasn't cancer. And then I felt bad for thinking yes, hopefully it's a 90% chance that it's not, but I kept hanging on the 10% to the point that it started to consume me. And then when the surgery went for so long, I kept thinking oh god, maybe it's just taking longer, sometimes that happens.
Anyway, enough about that. The reason I guess I'm feeling the weight of all of this now is because we got a stage. And it wasn't stage 2, it was stage 3c. Not even just 3 but 3c. And maybe it doesn't matter if it's a or b or c but if it didn't, why would they even use it? It's not 4. Well, jeez, she wasn't even showing symptoms, let's hope it isn't a 4. Christ. I know she's being strong for me, and I guess I'm being strong for her, but I think on the inside, she's scared shitless, and so maybe I am too because I don't know what's going to happen next. Like she wants to celebrate her birthday with a party and she wants balloons. And my sister said oh whatever, she won't realize there aren't balloons when she gets there. But she wouldn't mention them if she didn't want them, and what if ... what if, you know? She's got cancer, am I really going to deny her balloons when she asks for them? Really?
So here begins my journal about my mom's adventure on the road to recovering from ovarian cancer. Stage IIIc.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
To: The Senate, the President of the United States, and the World
I just want to state for the record that:
1. Massachusetts has never been the center of attention when it comes to politics and voting. We felt pressured to do well and make you proud because we're supposed to know what we're doing (and we don't).
2. We don't respond well to 56 phone calls a day from concerned citizens around the country who just want to make sure we know what day to vote. We hate it even more when they call with their cell phones. My caller id can't pick up that you're on Martha's team.
3. We voted for Hillary Clinton in the primary two years ago . . . so it's really not our fault, it never should've been this close (because when it gets this close, refer to #1 for how we react )
4. She should've had it in the bag. Seriously. It snowed today. Walkers and MBTAers had the advantage, people in minivans in the suburbs did not.
5. We'll do better the next time, when we vote with the rest of the country and there are many circles to color in on the ballot.
6. Forget whatever you thought you saw in the 2008 elections. Nobody really wanted health care or whatever else you were selling that people said they would buy (because they're not buying, they're not even in the store browsing).
6 points is sad, but it's all I have at the moment. Me thinks this should probably make the Gov'nah a bit nervous.
1. Massachusetts has never been the center of attention when it comes to politics and voting. We felt pressured to do well and make you proud because we're supposed to know what we're doing (and we don't).
2. We don't respond well to 56 phone calls a day from concerned citizens around the country who just want to make sure we know what day to vote. We hate it even more when they call with their cell phones. My caller id can't pick up that you're on Martha's team.
3. We voted for Hillary Clinton in the primary two years ago . . . so it's really not our fault, it never should've been this close (because when it gets this close, refer to #1 for how we react )
4. She should've had it in the bag. Seriously. It snowed today. Walkers and MBTAers had the advantage, people in minivans in the suburbs did not.
5. We'll do better the next time, when we vote with the rest of the country and there are many circles to color in on the ballot.
6. Forget whatever you thought you saw in the 2008 elections. Nobody really wanted health care or whatever else you were selling that people said they would buy (because they're not buying, they're not even in the store browsing).
6 points is sad, but it's all I have at the moment. Me thinks this should probably make the Gov'nah a bit nervous.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
A Letter: Dearest Seattle
Dear Seattle,
Take the rain back to your side of the country! We've had just about enough.
Very truly yours,
Boston
P.S. 5 inches in the next two days? Is that normal even for the pacific northwest?
Take the rain back to your side of the country! We've had just about enough.
Very truly yours,
Boston
P.S. 5 inches in the next two days? Is that normal even for the pacific northwest?
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
On Notice: New England Rain
I'm officially putting the current weather, formally named New England Rain, on notice. Holy crap, you didn't even know there was such a thing as New England rain, did you? Allow me to educate the masses -- and if you're living in New England and don't have any rain -- I shall be more specific: Massachusetts, Boston, outside, all the time . . . rain, rain, rain.
New England rain is the antithesis of New England snow (see entry On Notice: New England Snow) in that the winter time's NE snow would cause slippery sidewalks, late commutes, school closings, and hot coffee cravings. Instead -- because it's summer now -- NE rain causes spots on my glasses, frizzy hair, sleepiness and depression. It's much more internalized because you can complain about the absolute shittiness of it, but you don't actually see the rain pile up (whereas snow piles up and stays there forever) so your complaints aren't real. You're just sick of it, not necessarily hindered by it . . . unless you're planning an outdoor bbq.
I haven't done the math, but I do believe that since I bought my car on April 6th of this year, I've driven it more in the rain than in sun or clouds. I've used my windshield wipers 3 times as much as I've used the air conditioner. I don't recall the last time it was 70s/80s and sunny. And you cannot say that hot and rainy is any consolation, hot + rainy = muggy, humid, fan in your face weather. It is not pleasant.
Therefore, in order to save the red sox from rain delays and keep my pants and glasses dry, I propose we create a bubble. This bubble will encompass the entire Boston area. Attached to the inside top of the bubble will be a fake sun (better for skin). The bubble will shield the city and people from all rain and various unpleasant droppings from the sky (spaceships, asteroids, bird poop) while keeping away humidity at a temperature-controlled 75 degrees.
It's going to be a hit, I just know it. Of course, until they get that up and running, I'm stuck with frizzy hair and a jacket -- a jacket!!! in June!!!
New England rain is the antithesis of New England snow (see entry On Notice: New England Snow) in that the winter time's NE snow would cause slippery sidewalks, late commutes, school closings, and hot coffee cravings. Instead -- because it's summer now -- NE rain causes spots on my glasses, frizzy hair, sleepiness and depression. It's much more internalized because you can complain about the absolute shittiness of it, but you don't actually see the rain pile up (whereas snow piles up and stays there forever) so your complaints aren't real. You're just sick of it, not necessarily hindered by it . . . unless you're planning an outdoor bbq.
I haven't done the math, but I do believe that since I bought my car on April 6th of this year, I've driven it more in the rain than in sun or clouds. I've used my windshield wipers 3 times as much as I've used the air conditioner. I don't recall the last time it was 70s/80s and sunny. And you cannot say that hot and rainy is any consolation, hot + rainy = muggy, humid, fan in your face weather. It is not pleasant.
Therefore, in order to save the red sox from rain delays and keep my pants and glasses dry, I propose we create a bubble. This bubble will encompass the entire Boston area. Attached to the inside top of the bubble will be a fake sun (better for skin). The bubble will shield the city and people from all rain and various unpleasant droppings from the sky (spaceships, asteroids, bird poop) while keeping away humidity at a temperature-controlled 75 degrees.
It's going to be a hit, I just know it. Of course, until they get that up and running, I'm stuck with frizzy hair and a jacket -- a jacket!!! in June!!!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Dead to Me: See-through Shirts
What is the purpose of a see-through shirt, really? And why would I pay such prices for things that have to be worn with other things? I'm on the banana republic website, trying to figure out if the shirt is made of the same material that is usually see-through. And then when I reluctantly buy the shirt, I stand in front of a mirror with all the lights on. Is it see-through? No? But sorta? Why sorta? Wtf?
And so maybe I was late to the party, but the BR website does provide an indicator of when a shirt is or isn't. The least see-through is called 'opaque' and the most is called 'complete waste of your money since you have to wear something under it always'. So I'm buying opaque, when necessary. And I'm still standing in front of the mirror with all the lights on thinking 'oh great, you can see my bra!'. But you can't really. But maybe you can.
My mother has no idea why girls my age care about seeing the bra. She says 'at least you're wearing a bra!'. What does that have to do with it? Ugh, so it's my pet peeve. See-through shirts. Why? What's the purpose? I don't like camisoles.
And so maybe I was late to the party, but the BR website does provide an indicator of when a shirt is or isn't. The least see-through is called 'opaque' and the most is called 'complete waste of your money since you have to wear something under it always'. So I'm buying opaque, when necessary. And I'm still standing in front of the mirror with all the lights on thinking 'oh great, you can see my bra!'. But you can't really. But maybe you can.
My mother has no idea why girls my age care about seeing the bra. She says 'at least you're wearing a bra!'. What does that have to do with it? Ugh, so it's my pet peeve. See-through shirts. Why? What's the purpose? I don't like camisoles.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
On Notice: The Twilight Obsession
Anything that could lead to the phrase 'omg vampires that glow are so hawt!' needs to be discarded. This is not the Harry Potter craze, these are females ages 10-30 who are screaming (like 'Ashlee Simpson concert'-type screaming) for a 30-second trailer of a movie that shows a kiss and a werewolf.
I haven't read the books and I really don't want to read them. I also don't plan on ever watching the movies. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but when 14 year olds are going around, wishing their boyfriends were vampires that glowed, that's a problem.
Can't people just watch True Blood? Why does that not satisfy your vampire craving? That Robert Pattison guy isn't even cute . . . and who cares if he's dating the girl? Ugh.
I haven't read the books and I really don't want to read them. I also don't plan on ever watching the movies. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but when 14 year olds are going around, wishing their boyfriends were vampires that glowed, that's a problem.
Can't people just watch True Blood? Why does that not satisfy your vampire craving? That Robert Pattison guy isn't even cute . . . and who cares if he's dating the girl? Ugh.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Question: When did Award shows get so horrible?
It must've been sometime at the end of high school or beginning of college when I just stopped watching award shows. Not even the Golden Globes could pull me in for the full 3 (or 4?) hours and those are usually the fun ones. Doesn't help that I haven't seen any of the movies nominated, don't watch 30 Rock (which, apparently, is the gift from god) and can't really bring up the fake tears for an "in memoriam" to Heath Ledger. And it's not even the speeches that are horrible, it's the presenters. It's reading things off the television prompt and having awkward conversations about film editing that drag on and on.
Tonight, I watched the first ten minutes of the Grammy's and almost took my eye out with a spoon. It was that bad. Remember when The Rock was a wrestler and an almost-actor with that weird eyebrow thing? Well, now he goes by some other name and makes lame jokes on award shows. I'm still not sure what he was doing there; I didn't stick around long enough to find out if he was the host and would keep torturing people. I watched Coldplay then gave up. I'm not sure I saw any actual awards.
Maybe this is partly my fault. I've gotten more picky in my old age and therefore, don't like spending my time watching or listening to things that have no relevance whatsoever. It's why I can't watch MTV award shows either, and those used to be the fun fun times. Yeah, no more. Just lame. Giving awards to people who are younger than me -- what do those Jonas Brothers actually sing? They're like Hanson, is that it? Things must be coming full circle to when I was in 7th grade and obsessed with music and movies. Ahhh memories.
Tonight, I watched the first ten minutes of the Grammy's and almost took my eye out with a spoon. It was that bad. Remember when The Rock was a wrestler and an almost-actor with that weird eyebrow thing? Well, now he goes by some other name and makes lame jokes on award shows. I'm still not sure what he was doing there; I didn't stick around long enough to find out if he was the host and would keep torturing people. I watched Coldplay then gave up. I'm not sure I saw any actual awards.
Maybe this is partly my fault. I've gotten more picky in my old age and therefore, don't like spending my time watching or listening to things that have no relevance whatsoever. It's why I can't watch MTV award shows either, and those used to be the fun fun times. Yeah, no more. Just lame. Giving awards to people who are younger than me -- what do those Jonas Brothers actually sing? They're like Hanson, is that it? Things must be coming full circle to when I was in 7th grade and obsessed with music and movies. Ahhh memories.
Friday, February 6, 2009
On Notice: New England Snow
I'm putting this winter's snow on notice officially. I know we've complained about it forever, but I'm starting to believe that it has been particularly horrible this year.
Snow, you suck, we hate you. You bring us no joy. You bring us traffic and delays and disabled trains and slippery sidewalks mixed with soggy pants and UGG knockoffs that need 29 hours to dry out. And when you do decide to grace us with your magnanimous presence, you do so on the weekends. The weekends! Snow + weekends = shitty social life because I don't want to drive in that. I don't even want to clean off my car until Monday morning.
Look, snow, if you're going to be around until May, just please be considerate to those who don't get off from work/school every time a flake falls from the heavens. The ground rules will now include, but are not limited to:
Thank you.
Snow, you suck, we hate you. You bring us no joy. You bring us traffic and delays and disabled trains and slippery sidewalks mixed with soggy pants and UGG knockoffs that need 29 hours to dry out. And when you do decide to grace us with your magnanimous presence, you do so on the weekends. The weekends! Snow + weekends = shitty social life because I don't want to drive in that. I don't even want to clean off my car until Monday morning.
Look, snow, if you're going to be around until May, just please be considerate to those who don't get off from work/school every time a flake falls from the heavens. The ground rules will now include, but are not limited to:
- Snow in the short amount of time after the morning commute but before the evening commute.
- Warm and sunny weather in the morning to get rid of the snow that turns into ice that makes it slippery.
- No slushy stuff.
- Snow must come already packaged with the sidewalk salt stuff.
- No wind. Isn't it already enough that it's cold and snowing? Do I really need the wind too?
Thank you.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
A Letter: Dearest DELL Computers
Dear DELL,
I enjoy all the promotional emails you send me. I can't say that for all the other ones I receive, but yours are colorful and informative and dammit, they make me want to buy a new computer. And sometimes I get so close that I am literally on your website, customizing a laptop that fits my needs. It's all going swell; who doesn't smile at instant price reductions and free 2-day shipping?
But then my cloud 9 status disappears. What is this? Vista? No. Never. But then I'd have to pay more to get XP pre-installed? No. Never. This is terrible. This is why I've refused to get serious about buying new. It's a shame because it's not your fault, DELL, but the harsh reality is that I -- like millions of people -- do not want to get stuck with Vista on their great new computer. And they don't want to have to spend more just to have XP (which I already have) already loaded.
So here's the thing: until Vista is removed from your customization page and replaced with Windows 7, you won't be getting a purchase out of me. I'm sorry. It's Microsoft's fault, yes, because even they acknowledged you were all guinea pigs for Vista and that everything wrong with it is now corrected in W7. And this recession doesn't help, but I sure do hope you stick around for another 18 months to reap the benefits of a good operating system on your great computers.
By all means, keep sending me the promotional emails. I'm loving the idea of a mini-DELL and if I didn't have my iPhone, I'd be all over that (in a year, when it's doing things W7-style). But I'm only looking, I'm not buying.
Again, I'm sorry, but this is just how things have to be. I refuse to deal with Microsoft and the shit they send out and the prices and the shotty marketing with television commercials that are dumb and don't fix basic problems. I would move to a Mac if I could, but something is holding me back (is it you, DELL? is it YOU?).
Good Luck and have a good day.
I enjoy all the promotional emails you send me. I can't say that for all the other ones I receive, but yours are colorful and informative and dammit, they make me want to buy a new computer. And sometimes I get so close that I am literally on your website, customizing a laptop that fits my needs. It's all going swell; who doesn't smile at instant price reductions and free 2-day shipping?
But then my cloud 9 status disappears. What is this? Vista? No. Never. But then I'd have to pay more to get XP pre-installed? No. Never. This is terrible. This is why I've refused to get serious about buying new. It's a shame because it's not your fault, DELL, but the harsh reality is that I -- like millions of people -- do not want to get stuck with Vista on their great new computer. And they don't want to have to spend more just to have XP (which I already have) already loaded.
So here's the thing: until Vista is removed from your customization page and replaced with Windows 7, you won't be getting a purchase out of me. I'm sorry. It's Microsoft's fault, yes, because even they acknowledged you were all guinea pigs for Vista and that everything wrong with it is now corrected in W7. And this recession doesn't help, but I sure do hope you stick around for another 18 months to reap the benefits of a good operating system on your great computers.
By all means, keep sending me the promotional emails. I'm loving the idea of a mini-DELL and if I didn't have my iPhone, I'd be all over that (in a year, when it's doing things W7-style). But I'm only looking, I'm not buying.
Again, I'm sorry, but this is just how things have to be. I refuse to deal with Microsoft and the shit they send out and the prices and the shotty marketing with television commercials that are dumb and don't fix basic problems. I would move to a Mac if I could, but something is holding me back (is it you, DELL? is it YOU?).
Good Luck and have a good day.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
You, Sudafed, you!
And people wonder why I've said no to drugs and cigarettes my whole life. Like that time I was being pressured into smoking weed (yes, kids, it was just like those after-school specials) and I laughed it off that I'd probably become addicted like I am with television shows. Turns out, I don't even need the illegal stuff to get completely fucked up, I can just take Sudafed.
Now, it doesn't happen to everybody so I'm not warning off Sudafed completely; it's just me who's now not allowed to take it. More specifically, the pseudoephedrine and phenylephrine that are used to make Sudafed. Nasal decongestants can, apparently, kill me. Good to know, I'll write that one down.
How does it happen, you ask? Slowly. Very slowly. The first time I took Sudafed was at the end of last May. I took it for a cold because the doctor told me to. I didn't start using it for shits and giggles or like a, 'hey, wonder what Sudafed can do to me?'. Nope, totally innocent me just went to the doctor to make sure I didn't have strep throat. Least of my worries, that stupid strep throat.
I don't know how many colds you're supposed to have in a year, but I have started to get more due to being in an office environment, constantly around people all the time with nowhere else to go. I felt a cold coming on while I was in Michigan (you were in Michigan? Yes, I was) so I took Sudafed to try to keep the overall symptoms at bay. I was also starting to feel really crappy otherwise, which I thought was just the cold starting off. So it wasn't. Who knew?
The only reason I was weirded out was because as I walked to work from the train station, I'd have a really tough time walking at my normal pace. I walk fast, as my mother says, so the fact that I could no longer walk that fast without having to catch my breath definitely scared me. I also felt like there was something in my lungs, whether it was congestion or whatever else could be in there. Eventually I'd be able to catch my breath and my breathing would get better, but I did not feel 100 percent at all. I was sluggish, tired; I had trouble going up the stairs in my house. I didn't sleep at night because being on my stomach affected my breathing and I just coughed all night. I couldn't sleep on my back at all, there was something in my lungs that preventing me from doing that position.
It was a Tuesday after work that I asked my mom to take me to the emergency room. I had just come home and was coughing horribly, not breathing right, and I'd basically had enough. Whether it was laryngitis or asthma or whatever, I just wanted the medicine to make it better. The ER (not a real ER, if we want to be honest; they were horrible and screwed up my insurance information) took my blood pressure first thing . . . 205/153. Guess what? That's high. Ridiculously high if you want to compare it to a normal, 120/80. They took a chest X-ray and found my heart to be twice the size it should've been, working at 20 percent, and I had a lot of fluid in my lungs (no shit! definitely explained my congestion problems).
I was put in ICU overnight and my mother had me transferred the next day to MGH. It had to be done. Even if the original hospital had been able to help my mom all those years ago, I was a different case altogether. It wasn't normal for a 25-year old to have these symptoms and it wasn't okay that they weren't doing all they could to get my blood pressure down. Plus, everyone my mother talked to told her to get me out of there.
I stayed in MGH for about a week. I didn't sleep, I stayed in a room with some crazy people, had to deal with some annoying residents intent on solving my case, and left without a true diagnosis and a few medicines to keep my blood pressure normal.
It wasn't until a month later that the cardiologist told me that they were thinking it was the Sudafed. There had been a few (read: not many) cases of this happening, but since both of my parents also had high blood pressure, I was probably already predisposed to it and the Sudafed kicked it into gear. Awesome, thanks. Otherwise, hey, I'm in pretty good health. My kidneys are working fine and my heart is now back to normal size and working at about the percentage it's supposed to, around 46 percent.
I should point out that before going to the ER, I had tried to get an appointment with my primary care doctor. The first time, she was on vacation; they second time, she was booked until the Thursday I was in the hospital. So it's not like I didn't try. My only other option was going to the doctor who gave me the Sudafed. Really, no thanks, I already didn't like him.
I have another appointment with the cardiologist in a few weeks, so hopefully things will check out and I'll maybe not have to deal with as many pills as I have. I don't know. I'm kind of young to be lugging around a pill box for high blood pressure.
Now, it doesn't happen to everybody so I'm not warning off Sudafed completely; it's just me who's now not allowed to take it. More specifically, the pseudoephedrine and phenylephrine that are used to make Sudafed. Nasal decongestants can, apparently, kill me. Good to know, I'll write that one down.
How does it happen, you ask? Slowly. Very slowly. The first time I took Sudafed was at the end of last May. I took it for a cold because the doctor told me to. I didn't start using it for shits and giggles or like a, 'hey, wonder what Sudafed can do to me?'. Nope, totally innocent me just went to the doctor to make sure I didn't have strep throat. Least of my worries, that stupid strep throat.
I don't know how many colds you're supposed to have in a year, but I have started to get more due to being in an office environment, constantly around people all the time with nowhere else to go. I felt a cold coming on while I was in Michigan (you were in Michigan? Yes, I was) so I took Sudafed to try to keep the overall symptoms at bay. I was also starting to feel really crappy otherwise, which I thought was just the cold starting off. So it wasn't. Who knew?
The only reason I was weirded out was because as I walked to work from the train station, I'd have a really tough time walking at my normal pace. I walk fast, as my mother says, so the fact that I could no longer walk that fast without having to catch my breath definitely scared me. I also felt like there was something in my lungs, whether it was congestion or whatever else could be in there. Eventually I'd be able to catch my breath and my breathing would get better, but I did not feel 100 percent at all. I was sluggish, tired; I had trouble going up the stairs in my house. I didn't sleep at night because being on my stomach affected my breathing and I just coughed all night. I couldn't sleep on my back at all, there was something in my lungs that preventing me from doing that position.
It was a Tuesday after work that I asked my mom to take me to the emergency room. I had just come home and was coughing horribly, not breathing right, and I'd basically had enough. Whether it was laryngitis or asthma or whatever, I just wanted the medicine to make it better. The ER (not a real ER, if we want to be honest; they were horrible and screwed up my insurance information) took my blood pressure first thing . . . 205/153. Guess what? That's high. Ridiculously high if you want to compare it to a normal, 120/80. They took a chest X-ray and found my heart to be twice the size it should've been, working at 20 percent, and I had a lot of fluid in my lungs (no shit! definitely explained my congestion problems).
I was put in ICU overnight and my mother had me transferred the next day to MGH. It had to be done. Even if the original hospital had been able to help my mom all those years ago, I was a different case altogether. It wasn't normal for a 25-year old to have these symptoms and it wasn't okay that they weren't doing all they could to get my blood pressure down. Plus, everyone my mother talked to told her to get me out of there.
I stayed in MGH for about a week. I didn't sleep, I stayed in a room with some crazy people, had to deal with some annoying residents intent on solving my case, and left without a true diagnosis and a few medicines to keep my blood pressure normal.
It wasn't until a month later that the cardiologist told me that they were thinking it was the Sudafed. There had been a few (read: not many) cases of this happening, but since both of my parents also had high blood pressure, I was probably already predisposed to it and the Sudafed kicked it into gear. Awesome, thanks. Otherwise, hey, I'm in pretty good health. My kidneys are working fine and my heart is now back to normal size and working at about the percentage it's supposed to, around 46 percent.
I should point out that before going to the ER, I had tried to get an appointment with my primary care doctor. The first time, she was on vacation; they second time, she was booked until the Thursday I was in the hospital. So it's not like I didn't try. My only other option was going to the doctor who gave me the Sudafed. Really, no thanks, I already didn't like him.
I have another appointment with the cardiologist in a few weeks, so hopefully things will check out and I'll maybe not have to deal with as many pills as I have. I don't know. I'm kind of young to be lugging around a pill box for high blood pressure.
Monday, August 25, 2008
One of Life's Questions . . .
Not that I really want to see more of Charlie Gibson and Diane Sawyer wax poetic about Ted Kennedy pushing a chair aside onstage but . . . why must there be commercial interruption during the Democratic Convention? They're only showing an hour of coverage and it's not like the tradition of our representative democracy is getting in the way of their new fall lineup (seriously, Dancing with the Stars needs a 3-night premiere???).
Thursday, July 10, 2008
On Notice: American Eagle Outfitters
Why is it that every time I love something, it has to go away and never return? This time around, it's the American Eagle Stretch Skinny Flare jean line. These jeans? Amazing. Not too low in the back, not too wide at the flare, had an amazing silhouette (I thought, which is really all that matters). So I did what any normal person who just discovered something amazing at an affordable price does: I stocked up in whatever colors and styles they had. I mean, sure, over time I noticed they had less of a selection . . . but I thought it was just a seasonal thing! They would have to come back eventually, right? Right? Why mess with such a popular product?
Skinny flares don't go out of style; they're a cross between boot cut, flare, and those stupid skinny things that just won't die. So I ask you: why? Why, American Eagle, why do you continue to ruin my life? You continuously bring back those horrible Artist jeans and the friggin Boyfriend jean -- not comfortable no matter how many guys have worn them before me. Your sales have gone down and your stock is plummeting but you refuse to bring back the stuff that made you popular? It's the jeans, stupid! Give me something I don't feel uncomfortable in, where my ass doesn't hang out the back and the pant legs hit the ground so there's just enough drag.
Skinny flares don't go out of style; they're a cross between boot cut, flare, and those stupid skinny things that just won't die. So I ask you: why? Why, American Eagle, why do you continue to ruin my life? You continuously bring back those horrible Artist jeans and the friggin Boyfriend jean -- not comfortable no matter how many guys have worn them before me. Your sales have gone down and your stock is plummeting but you refuse to bring back the stuff that made you popular? It's the jeans, stupid! Give me something I don't feel uncomfortable in, where my ass doesn't hang out the back and the pant legs hit the ground so there's just enough drag.
The New-ness of a clean slate
I deleted the original blog at this site. I was going to just leave it be but I missed blogging so . . . it's back. For now, at least. I don't know how long it'll stick around.
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