My latest Make It Low Carb column, Ganache, has been posted over at LowCarbLuxury.
I have to say, I'm completely tickled with this recipe. It just amazes me how well it works. A little patience, a lot of stirring -- yum! And no complicated ingredients, either (well, aside from the non-sugar sweeteners, but I have those anyway.)
I even tried this with coconut milk instead of the heavy cream for an LID indulgence, and it worked! It doesn't set up in the fridge, but that's OK. It makes a lovely, glassy chocolate sauce with a slightly coconut-y taste. Mmmmmm. It has been luscious on my Haagen-Daz (I always want to laugh when I type out that name, since I know it's totally made up) raspberry sorbet. I had to go with the H-D sorbet, I wanted raspberry, and the other brand's raspberry had carageenan in it. That's a no-no on LID, so H-D, pretense and all, it is.
Or rather, was. The pathetically empty container is just inches from the keyboard as I type this.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
owning up, giving up [YEWGO]
YEWGO: Your Eyes Will Glaze Over. Sorry -- therapeutic for me, a waste of time for everyone else.
Update: Actually, I saved the encyclopedic version of this privately, and cut this one, for public consumption, down considerably. Hopefully, glazed eyes will be averted, but no promises.
History
Last night, I wrote this post after a particular quote in a discussion thread got me thinking about the topic. I wrote it very late, and went to bed, not thinking at all about it until I got back from the endo's this morning.
It was very late when I got to bed; I'm running on about 3 hours of sleep today. I'm a zombie and would be even if it hadn't been one of the craziest days, ever. But we've all survived OK somehow. The tiredness has slowed down my thinking about what happened around that post, though.
What happened is this: in the original version of the post, I had an introduction in which I briefly reviewed the facts of the discussion thread that inspired it, and I linked to the thread itself. The woman who started the discussion thread was "alerted to" my post, and had a fit about it.
First, she linked to it (unfortunately with a bad link). Then, because the link was bad, she copied-and-pasted the entire post to the forum. Here's a bit of her reasoning: "...I think it's important for others to see what can happen just because you don't think another person's advice is appropriate for you."
My immediate reaction to this was: huh?
It took me a while to figure out that she thought I was wrong to repeat information she had included in her post in my blog, and to link to the discussion thread. It took me even longer to figure out that She thought I was talking about her. She thought I wrote that entire post because I was furious with her for disregarding my advice. (heh)
She didn't get that I was taking that one quote of hers and expanding on it, pushing it to the extremes. She also apparently didn't read the whole thing, because I wrote:
Naturally, I got defensive, but I managed not to make a further idiot of myself, at least in public. I sent private messages to a few people explaining that the blog post was about me, not about her... and I privately asked the moderators to remove the posts (they decided not to).
I had so much on the schedule today that I was forced to go away and come back to this issue several times. On the last iteration, it finally became clear to me what I should do: apologize, and remove the specific references to the discussion thread from the post.
Owning Up...
It doesn't matter what my intentions were, and it doesn't matter that the woman is a careless reader. Something I did upset her, and even though I wasn't trying to hurt her, I am still responsible for what I did. She wasn't the only one who read a personal criticism interpretation into that post -- but the others who did share this woman's dislike of me, too... but you know what? That doesn't matter, either. It doesn't matter if it's their perspective that shades everything I say as an attack, whether I mean it that way or not. If this was perceived as an attack, it is up to me to change it so it isn't, anymore.
The post was about my own ideas regarding "super parents", as well as my struggles with my own vulnerability. It really did have nothing to do with that woman, other than the fact that her quote set me thinking about it.
So, I edited the original post, removing the first few paragraphs of detail and the link to the discussion thread. I also posted an apology on the board.
It probably won't be enough for the people who wish to be offended by everything I say and do, but it's the best I can do in this situation. In an ideal world we would all be able to discern each other's intent perfectly on every reading, but that is not this world.
I really am sorry.
Giving Up.
I have asked one of the mods to delete my account. She has asked me to give it another day to think about it, and commended me for changing my blog post and making the apology. I did those things because they were the right thing to do.
Now, I think the right thing to do will be to just stay away from the forum entirely. It is astonishing how much venom she and the others like her on this forum ascribe to me. They could just ignore me, but they go out of their way to post and make journal entries with the sole purpose of telling me how arrogant, condescending, rude, sick, twisted, and generally unpleasant I am.
There are two ways of dealing with bullies: stand up to them, or walk away. I think in this case, walking away is my best option.
To paraphrase one of my favorite scenes from The Two Towers: What can I do against such reckless hate? Ride out, and leave it behind.
Update: Actually, I saved the encyclopedic version of this privately, and cut this one, for public consumption, down considerably. Hopefully, glazed eyes will be averted, but no promises.
History
Last night, I wrote this post after a particular quote in a discussion thread got me thinking about the topic. I wrote it very late, and went to bed, not thinking at all about it until I got back from the endo's this morning.
It was very late when I got to bed; I'm running on about 3 hours of sleep today. I'm a zombie and would be even if it hadn't been one of the craziest days, ever. But we've all survived OK somehow. The tiredness has slowed down my thinking about what happened around that post, though.
What happened is this: in the original version of the post, I had an introduction in which I briefly reviewed the facts of the discussion thread that inspired it, and I linked to the thread itself. The woman who started the discussion thread was "alerted to" my post, and had a fit about it.
First, she linked to it (unfortunately with a bad link). Then, because the link was bad, she copied-and-pasted the entire post to the forum. Here's a bit of her reasoning: "...I think it's important for others to see what can happen just because you don't think another person's advice is appropriate for you."
My immediate reaction to this was: huh?
It took me a while to figure out that she thought I was wrong to repeat information she had included in her post in my blog, and to link to the discussion thread. It took me even longer to figure out that She thought I was talking about her. She thought I wrote that entire post because I was furious with her for disregarding my advice. (heh)
She didn't get that I was taking that one quote of hers and expanding on it, pushing it to the extremes. She also apparently didn't read the whole thing, because I wrote:
I don't think the woman in the discussion thread is dooming her daughter to a lifetime of distrust and self-esteem issues. I'm not making any assumptions about her general parenting, but she certainly did get my wheels turning.(Note: this quote is now slightly different in the edited version, because the discussion thread isn't mentioned anymore.)
Naturally, I got defensive, but I managed not to make a further idiot of myself, at least in public. I sent private messages to a few people explaining that the blog post was about me, not about her... and I privately asked the moderators to remove the posts (they decided not to).
I had so much on the schedule today that I was forced to go away and come back to this issue several times. On the last iteration, it finally became clear to me what I should do: apologize, and remove the specific references to the discussion thread from the post.
Owning Up...
It doesn't matter what my intentions were, and it doesn't matter that the woman is a careless reader. Something I did upset her, and even though I wasn't trying to hurt her, I am still responsible for what I did. She wasn't the only one who read a personal criticism interpretation into that post -- but the others who did share this woman's dislike of me, too... but you know what? That doesn't matter, either. It doesn't matter if it's their perspective that shades everything I say as an attack, whether I mean it that way or not. If this was perceived as an attack, it is up to me to change it so it isn't, anymore.
The post was about my own ideas regarding "super parents", as well as my struggles with my own vulnerability. It really did have nothing to do with that woman, other than the fact that her quote set me thinking about it.
So, I edited the original post, removing the first few paragraphs of detail and the link to the discussion thread. I also posted an apology on the board.
It probably won't be enough for the people who wish to be offended by everything I say and do, but it's the best I can do in this situation. In an ideal world we would all be able to discern each other's intent perfectly on every reading, but that is not this world.
I really am sorry.
Giving Up.
I have asked one of the mods to delete my account. She has asked me to give it another day to think about it, and commended me for changing my blog post and making the apology. I did those things because they were the right thing to do.
Now, I think the right thing to do will be to just stay away from the forum entirely. It is astonishing how much venom she and the others like her on this forum ascribe to me. They could just ignore me, but they go out of their way to post and make journal entries with the sole purpose of telling me how arrogant, condescending, rude, sick, twisted, and generally unpleasant I am.
There are two ways of dealing with bullies: stand up to them, or walk away. I think in this case, walking away is my best option.
To paraphrase one of my favorite scenes from The Two Towers: What can I do against such reckless hate? Ride out, and leave it behind.
100 miles, 6 stops, 3 sticks, one sore arm
Today: got up, took a shower, didn't have time to do my hair so I just let it dry. (It now resembles a tumbleweed.)
Took DS2 with me up to Phoenix, which was great because I could use the HOV lane and did not get stuck in traffic. At the endo's office, I got stuck 3 times: twice for the blood draw, and once with the Thyrogen shot. DS2 was great during the whole thing. I told him what was going to happen, and he said, "Oh! I'll just wait out here, then," and he sat on the floor in the hallway, just by the door. He could hear my voice but he didn't have to see anything. The doctor's office has some cool photos up that he spent his time looking at. It was only a few minutes, after all. The shot didn't hurt at the time, but man, does it hurt now. "Your arm may be sore," the tech said kindly. I just brushed it off, how bad could it be? Well, bad enough that there's about a 3 or 4 inch area around the injection site that's significantly hotter than the rest of my arm. The whole left arm, shoulder, and left side of my neck are very achey. Fortunately that didn't kick in until later. I should go look up whether ibuprofen would be OK for this pain. I can't think why it wouldn't be, but I won't take anything without checking it out first.
Got home and found I had inadvertently ignited yet another fire storm over on the forum; more about that in a different post. It's one thing to provoke an argument and then sit back and enjoy the fireworks -- and this not something I ever do on purpose, but sometimes it is funny to see how people react. But last night's post wasn't meant to be incendiary in the least, and yet somehow it turned out to be. So that sucked, and I flopped around trying to deal with that until it was time to go get DD.
Went and picked up DD at school, and then traipsed all of us to Trader Joe's because we had no bread or milk. Stopped at BK on the way home for the kiddos, but I had leftover beef stew, finished it off (sigh).
Came home, flopped around the forum hooha some more until it was time to go to the g/e doctor. Got there on time (1:30), but we didn't get called back until after 2PM, and then we had an inordinate wait in the room before the doctor came in. Then I had to go through my thyroid cancer history with him, and he actually had some suggestions for my rapid transit problem and wants to see me again in a month.
We left the doctor's and hit the road to pick up DS1, and got there just as the kids were being released. I had called and warned them I might be late so DS1 wouldn't worry, but I was glad I wasn't. I hate it when I'm late, even if they're expecting it.
Came home, tried to feed the kids a snack, but they were too excited (DD) or terrified (DS2) about their swimming lessons to want to eat much -- not to mention recovering from that stomach virus. Looked up the directions to the new swimming facility. Got everyone into their suits, and towels and goggles lined up, and got to the new swim place which was a bit crazy -- today was their first day in the new facility! All 3 kids did very well in their lessons, even though DS2 cried a lot. He cries, but he still does everything the teacher asks him to, it's pretty funny. On the way home he said, "I like that pool." We were all laughing, because of how cranky he was while he was in it! Oh, well. I think (hope) tomorrow will go more easily.
We got home a little before 6 but we weren't exactly in a hurry. Tomorrow we'll have to hustle because DD has to get to her kindergarden graduation ceremony as close to 5:30 as possible. At least tomorrow I won't have to buy DD a bathing cap, as I did today -- I knew I would have to, but I foolishly didn't think about it until it was time for her lesson. She's all set now. It was great to see how happy they all were.
Happy, and now exhausted. They were all drooping over their plates at dinner. We'll have to get them to bed asap!
Tomorrow I'm hoping they'll inject the other arm, unless the left one feels a lot better I don't want them sticking it again. As always, I'll just have to wait and see how it goes.
Took DS2 with me up to Phoenix, which was great because I could use the HOV lane and did not get stuck in traffic. At the endo's office, I got stuck 3 times: twice for the blood draw, and once with the Thyrogen shot. DS2 was great during the whole thing. I told him what was going to happen, and he said, "Oh! I'll just wait out here, then," and he sat on the floor in the hallway, just by the door. He could hear my voice but he didn't have to see anything. The doctor's office has some cool photos up that he spent his time looking at. It was only a few minutes, after all. The shot didn't hurt at the time, but man, does it hurt now. "Your arm may be sore," the tech said kindly. I just brushed it off, how bad could it be? Well, bad enough that there's about a 3 or 4 inch area around the injection site that's significantly hotter than the rest of my arm. The whole left arm, shoulder, and left side of my neck are very achey. Fortunately that didn't kick in until later. I should go look up whether ibuprofen would be OK for this pain. I can't think why it wouldn't be, but I won't take anything without checking it out first.
Got home and found I had inadvertently ignited yet another fire storm over on the forum; more about that in a different post. It's one thing to provoke an argument and then sit back and enjoy the fireworks -- and this not something I ever do on purpose, but sometimes it is funny to see how people react. But last night's post wasn't meant to be incendiary in the least, and yet somehow it turned out to be. So that sucked, and I flopped around trying to deal with that until it was time to go get DD.
Went and picked up DD at school, and then traipsed all of us to Trader Joe's because we had no bread or milk. Stopped at BK on the way home for the kiddos, but I had leftover beef stew, finished it off (sigh).
Came home, flopped around the forum hooha some more until it was time to go to the g/e doctor. Got there on time (1:30), but we didn't get called back until after 2PM, and then we had an inordinate wait in the room before the doctor came in. Then I had to go through my thyroid cancer history with him, and he actually had some suggestions for my rapid transit problem and wants to see me again in a month.
We left the doctor's and hit the road to pick up DS1, and got there just as the kids were being released. I had called and warned them I might be late so DS1 wouldn't worry, but I was glad I wasn't. I hate it when I'm late, even if they're expecting it.
Came home, tried to feed the kids a snack, but they were too excited (DD) or terrified (DS2) about their swimming lessons to want to eat much -- not to mention recovering from that stomach virus. Looked up the directions to the new swimming facility. Got everyone into their suits, and towels and goggles lined up, and got to the new swim place which was a bit crazy -- today was their first day in the new facility! All 3 kids did very well in their lessons, even though DS2 cried a lot. He cries, but he still does everything the teacher asks him to, it's pretty funny. On the way home he said, "I like that pool." We were all laughing, because of how cranky he was while he was in it! Oh, well. I think (hope) tomorrow will go more easily.
We got home a little before 6 but we weren't exactly in a hurry. Tomorrow we'll have to hustle because DD has to get to her kindergarden graduation ceremony as close to 5:30 as possible. At least tomorrow I won't have to buy DD a bathing cap, as I did today -- I knew I would have to, but I foolishly didn't think about it until it was time for her lesson. She's all set now. It was great to see how happy they all were.
Happy, and now exhausted. They were all drooping over their plates at dinner. We'll have to get them to bed asap!
Tomorrow I'm hoping they'll inject the other arm, unless the left one feels a lot better I don't want them sticking it again. As always, I'll just have to wait and see how it goes.
Grand Rounds at Dr. Sanity
This week's Grand Rounds are hosted by Dr. Sanity, using a framing device of many gorgeous DaVinci sketches. My when all you have is a hammer post is grouped with other patient-perspective pieces, including one from another one of my new favorite writers, neo-neocon.
knocking down the Invulnerable Parent
Should we tell our children about our phobias?
In a recent online discussion (no longer linked), I advocated that owning up to our fears can be one way to provide a good role model for our children.
I ran smack into The Invulnerable Parent defense. You know, the one that says we can never be anything but strong and perfect for our children. One woman said, "Moms and dads are supposed to be strong, super-people, invincible."
The problem with this, of course, is that we're not.
Sooner or later, a chink will appear in the armor. We get sick, we get hurt, we die. These things happen to the people we love, and we get sad or angry. Things go badly, and sometimes it's our fault. We make mistakes.
I think Invulnerable Parents raise children who are ill-equipped to deal with the world. They set themselves up as role models who never make mistakes, never feel bad, never need to ask for help.
But isn't it better to teach our kids how to handle negative feelings, and how to make amends and fix mistakes? Isn't it better to model the reality of life which is not that we are perfect, but that we are trying our hardest to be good? Isn't it a good thing to show our kids that we push through our adversities and do what we should, because that is the right thing to do? Isn't it better to teach our children to realize when they need help, and to show them how to ask for it?
Invulnerable Parents ignore all these valuable lessons in a vain attempt to protect their children. I don't think they realize the lessons they are teaching instead.
The first lesson is that parents, and adults in general, can't be trusted, because they don't tell you the truth. In fact, they lie to you all the time. They put up a false front but eventually you'll see what's behind it. They are not the people they pretend to be. How could they be? No one is perfect.
The second lesson is that you are not capable -- not strong enough, not smart enough -- to handle what life is going to throw at you, so you'd better let Mommy and Daddy make all your decisions for you. That way you won't ever have to be afraid, or sad, or angry... until you are, and you'll have no idea how to deal with it. See, Mom and Dad were right! You are incapable of dealing with the real world!
The final lesson is that you're all you've got, so get used to it. There's no point in asking for help with a problem, because everyone lies, and besides, they all think you're an idiot. So it's just you. Have a nice life.
I don't think the woman I quoted above is dooming her daughter to a lifetime of distrust and self-esteem issues. I'm not making any assumptions about her general parenting, but she certainly did get my wheels turning. I do know parents like this. I've seen the havoc that Invulnerable Parenting wreaks.
I'm in a situation where I couldn't be invulnerable even if I wanted to be. My kids know I have cancer, although I'm quite sure DS2, just 4 years old, has no idea what that means. What he knows is that I have a sickness, and that sometimes I go to the hospital. Sometimes I am very tired, sometimes I have to eat differently from the rest of the family. I take a lot of pills everyday. My illness is integrated into our family life. It is part of our reality. DS2 this evening pushed away from me, right above my collar bone, and I had to remind him never to push on my neck, "Mommy has owie places, and that's one of them." Part of me was happy that he had forgotten, even though it hurt. A lot.
Even apart from my illness, I don't lie to my children. There are things I don't discuss with them; I'll tell them they don't need to know that, now, or that it's not something they should concern themselves with at all. DD especially is a little nosey parker, and I'm often left with: I don't need to explain myself to you! I was looking up blog links the other day and she was peering over my shoulder -- Why are you doing that? Why are you on that website? It really was getting on my nerves and I finally told her, "I'm writing. This has nothing to do with you. Please let me work!"
But I didn't lie. It is so important to me that they trust me. I had "the talk" with DS1 the other day; he has been hearing a lot of things at school and we had to make sure he knew the straight story. The etymology of curse words has come up a few times recently, too. We can have those discussions because he trusts me to be honest with him.
I can't imagine a situation in which I would have to lie. I think even if I got the proverbial "6 months to live" prognosis, I'd tell them, but maybe not right away. I'm not a "total honesty" lunatic. That's not right, either, because children shouldn't be burdened with information they can't process. As parents we have to walk that fine line between overwhelming them and keeping them in the dark, but my practice is always to give them the bare bones of a situation, and if they want me to flesh it out for them, I will, to a level I feel they can handle.
I guess it comes down to my own confidence in my kids' abilities. They are so strong and capable, I am constantly amazed by them. I push them, it's true, to try and understand what they are feeling, and to take responsibility for things they have done, or not done. I push them to learn new things and tackle new tasks. We can't learn the limits of our capabilities unless we're stressed; each success encourages us to go further. Failure should be a sign that we need more practice or more patience, but that's a lesson that's hard to learn. If we fail to teach our children how to deal with stress by hiding our own stresses from them, they will surely struggle with daily life. How then will they ever be able to spread their wings and find their own heights?
Update: I edited the introductory paragraphs to remove references that were disturbing to some people. No harm or personal criticism was intended.
idiot spider
What, exactly, was it hoping to accomplish, do you think?
Yes, I am a lousy housekeeper. But the fan is used nearly every single day. I'm thinking this was the result of one very productive over-night session. It's a terrible picture, the flash kept washing out the web entirely. I really have to work on my camera skills.
Monday, May 30, 2005
hurtling towards the abyss
Time has had a strange elasticity lately, some hours stretching inordinately, other days passing by in a blink.
Today was such a day, not helped by my sleeping in until 11. Yeah, I was running on several days of short sleep, but I had a 2-hour nap yesterday and got to bed at a not unreasonable time. I was surprised when I finally drifted up to the surface and saw what time it was.
Of course I was starving by the time I made it downstairs, but had to wait an hour for the meds to be absorbed. Ah, the perils of over-sleeping.
This week is so over-scheduled it's not even funny. Tuesday: Thyrogen, doctor's appointment, swimming lessons, Thyca meeting(?). Wednesday: Thyrogen, swimming lessons, DD's kindergarden graduation. Thursday: scan dose, DD's last day of school, swimming lessons. Friday: scan, DS1's last day of school, swimming lessons... RAI treatment?
Every time I think about the scan on Friday, the bottom falls out of my stomach. I honestly do not want to know. I wish that my not-knowing could push whatever is into the realm of is not. I know that it can't, so I will follow this path until I know, and then -- well, we'll see, right?
Today was such a day, not helped by my sleeping in until 11. Yeah, I was running on several days of short sleep, but I had a 2-hour nap yesterday and got to bed at a not unreasonable time. I was surprised when I finally drifted up to the surface and saw what time it was.
Of course I was starving by the time I made it downstairs, but had to wait an hour for the meds to be absorbed. Ah, the perils of over-sleeping.
This week is so over-scheduled it's not even funny. Tuesday: Thyrogen, doctor's appointment, swimming lessons, Thyca meeting(?). Wednesday: Thyrogen, swimming lessons, DD's kindergarden graduation. Thursday: scan dose, DD's last day of school, swimming lessons. Friday: scan, DS1's last day of school, swimming lessons... RAI treatment?
Every time I think about the scan on Friday, the bottom falls out of my stomach. I honestly do not want to know. I wish that my not-knowing could push whatever is into the realm of is not. I know that it can't, so I will follow this path until I know, and then -- well, we'll see, right?
Sunday, May 29, 2005
trapped
That lesson I got the other night, about not staying up too late because you never know what's going to happen?
Yeah, I did it again -- stayed up late to watch the Daria movies -- and got up early because both DD and DS2 have come down with DS1's stomach virus.
One of the benefits of being up early is getting things done early. I've already finished the laundry -- and it's even folded and put away! That's a near-miracle.
But I'm exhausted, and we're stuck here, and the two little ones, while mostly over the really nasty parts, are still feeling quite peaked. We probably won't do anything tomorrow, either.
It's just as well. This coming week is going to fly by.
Yeah, I did it again -- stayed up late to watch the Daria movies -- and got up early because both DD and DS2 have come down with DS1's stomach virus.
One of the benefits of being up early is getting things done early. I've already finished the laundry -- and it's even folded and put away! That's a near-miracle.
But I'm exhausted, and we're stuck here, and the two little ones, while mostly over the really nasty parts, are still feeling quite peaked. We probably won't do anything tomorrow, either.
It's just as well. This coming week is going to fly by.
my face hurts, round 47
All of my salivary glands are tender and a bit puffy. Nothing as bad as the worst attacks I had in February, when the swelling in my parotids was remarkable (as in, DH asking me, "Is your face bothering you now? Your cheek looks weird"), but still, this is the most discomfort I've felt in several weeks. All the glands under my jaw are very puffy... I look like I'm developing a wattle. I hate that look!
When I had my brief sojourn with the low iodine diet (LID) at the beginning of May, I had a few problems. Now it seems the longer I stay on LID, the worse these problems are getting, and it's hard for me to think that it's just a coincidence.
I've also got some hypo symptoms, like itching. I'm curious to see what my TSH is when this process starts on Tuesday. I wonder what it would mean if I went hypo just because I went on the LID?
When I had my brief sojourn with the low iodine diet (LID) at the beginning of May, I had a few problems. Now it seems the longer I stay on LID, the worse these problems are getting, and it's hard for me to think that it's just a coincidence.
I've also got some hypo symptoms, like itching. I'm curious to see what my TSH is when this process starts on Tuesday. I wonder what it would mean if I went hypo just because I went on the LID?
Saturday, May 28, 2005
crush
I have a movie-star crush on Gene Tierney. I've blogged before about The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, and just recently it was on again -- it inspired me to set up a TiVO wish list to look for other movies she appeared in.
So far, I've see the charming, flimsy Heaven Can Wait, which bears no resemblance at all to the Warren Beatty film of the same name. It starred Don Ameche looking frankly incredible, I had never seen him as a leading man before. And Gene was the typical Gene-character, luminous, beautiful, perfect.
Next up was Dragonwyck, with Vincent Price as an insane landowner in the NY Hudson Valley in the 1840's. Again, Gene has a typical role, but it was very cool to see her Miranda finally realizing what a man she had married, and arguing with him about God, or anything, for that matter. She sparkled.
Currently sitting on the TiVO? The noir classic, Laura, which I hope to get to tonight.
I'm really enjoying these old movies on so many levels. It is interesting to see how fashions, customs, and morals have changed since they were made. But I get an immediate joy from watching how beautifully put-together these films are. So far I haven't seen one tacky or flimsy set -- these are visually beautiful films even when the plot contrivances and the dialog approach ludicrous.
There was a point in Dragonwyck when DH asked me, "Are the farmers coming after him with their pitchforks now?" A moment later, Vincent Price's character asked the same question. I commend the screenwriter for recognizing the situation was perilously close to cliched. He veered away from it with skill and humor. Generally I've seen this skill and humor in all of Gene's movies, but I'm sure she must have made a few clunkers over her extended career. It may take some effort to find them, though!
I've looked over Gene's films and I know she plays against type in at least a few. I hope I get to see them eventually -- it will be so odd to see this nearly-perfect woman play someone who is clearly not.
So far, I've see the charming, flimsy Heaven Can Wait, which bears no resemblance at all to the Warren Beatty film of the same name. It starred Don Ameche looking frankly incredible, I had never seen him as a leading man before. And Gene was the typical Gene-character, luminous, beautiful, perfect.
Next up was Dragonwyck, with Vincent Price as an insane landowner in the NY Hudson Valley in the 1840's. Again, Gene has a typical role, but it was very cool to see her Miranda finally realizing what a man she had married, and arguing with him about God, or anything, for that matter. She sparkled.
Currently sitting on the TiVO? The noir classic, Laura, which I hope to get to tonight.
I'm really enjoying these old movies on so many levels. It is interesting to see how fashions, customs, and morals have changed since they were made. But I get an immediate joy from watching how beautifully put-together these films are. So far I haven't seen one tacky or flimsy set -- these are visually beautiful films even when the plot contrivances and the dialog approach ludicrous.
There was a point in Dragonwyck when DH asked me, "Are the farmers coming after him with their pitchforks now?" A moment later, Vincent Price's character asked the same question. I commend the screenwriter for recognizing the situation was perilously close to cliched. He veered away from it with skill and humor. Generally I've seen this skill and humor in all of Gene's movies, but I'm sure she must have made a few clunkers over her extended career. It may take some effort to find them, though!
I've looked over Gene's films and I know she plays against type in at least a few. I hope I get to see them eventually -- it will be so odd to see this nearly-perfect woman play someone who is clearly not.
my daughter, the _itch
She's gorgeous, but she's a harpy!
We're working on it. If this nasty-toned, demanding creature doesn't get her act together, she's going to find herself shunned by everyone but the cat.
We're working on it. If this nasty-toned, demanding creature doesn't get her act together, she's going to find herself shunned by everyone but the cat.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
blurry
I took the kids to Border's after we picked up DS1 from school, and we had a nice visit there. I skimmed through a half-dozen new knitting magazines and was appalled at how hideous the majority of the designs were. Shapeless sacks (with interesting patterns and textures) or tiny halter-y things -- there were very few nice-looking projects that, you know, a human could wear.
I drank a cup of Republic of Tea decaf Ginger Peach, and it was good. I put some honey in it. It wasn't as good as rEvolution tea, but it was still good, and I didn't feel (too) deprived not being able to have any kind of a snack.
I gave the kids a cheap thrill by taking the van through the car wash after we filled up the tank at Sam's.
We got home and I puttered around until DH got home and then I just crashed. I probably slept for about 40 minutes, and when I woke up, my eyes wouldn't focus.
My eyes have been very dry and gritty lately, I've been using my Systane drops 3 or 4 times a day, and even need them before I go to bed or my eyes bother me. So I walked around with everything looking blurry and fuzzy for a while and then finally put in some drops, and after another five minutes or so things finally cleared up.
I've never needed glasses or had any vision problems, so it was very strange for me not to be able to focus. It reminded me of the time DS2 scratched my cornea when he was just an infant (unlucky poke with a baby fingernail), and all the lights had haloes for a few days until it healed up. This was like that, only way worse and in both eyes. I couldn't have read anything smaller than 18 point type, I think. Yikes.
I'm wondering if this is related to the ongoing flare, or is a side effect of my RAI, or what? Maybe it's not related to anything and I just have dry eyes now, too, on top of everything else. My gut feeling is that it's a delayed RAI side effect, since my salivary glands are acting all weird again, too.
It's manageable, but annoying. I'm used to this kind of thing. I'll mention it to the endo when I see her next, which should not be too long from now.
I drank a cup of Republic of Tea decaf Ginger Peach, and it was good. I put some honey in it. It wasn't as good as rEvolution tea, but it was still good, and I didn't feel (too) deprived not being able to have any kind of a snack.
I gave the kids a cheap thrill by taking the van through the car wash after we filled up the tank at Sam's.
We got home and I puttered around until DH got home and then I just crashed. I probably slept for about 40 minutes, and when I woke up, my eyes wouldn't focus.
My eyes have been very dry and gritty lately, I've been using my Systane drops 3 or 4 times a day, and even need them before I go to bed or my eyes bother me. So I walked around with everything looking blurry and fuzzy for a while and then finally put in some drops, and after another five minutes or so things finally cleared up.
I've never needed glasses or had any vision problems, so it was very strange for me not to be able to focus. It reminded me of the time DS2 scratched my cornea when he was just an infant (unlucky poke with a baby fingernail), and all the lights had haloes for a few days until it healed up. This was like that, only way worse and in both eyes. I couldn't have read anything smaller than 18 point type, I think. Yikes.
I'm wondering if this is related to the ongoing flare, or is a side effect of my RAI, or what? Maybe it's not related to anything and I just have dry eyes now, too, on top of everything else. My gut feeling is that it's a delayed RAI side effect, since my salivary glands are acting all weird again, too.
It's manageable, but annoying. I'm used to this kind of thing. I'll mention it to the endo when I see her next, which should not be too long from now.
disgruntled
I'm in a fine mood now -- the kind of fine mood Maureen O'Hara was in with John Wayne for the majority of The Quiet Man -- but it doesn't surprise me at all.
I am upset about the scan. More precisely, I'm upset about needing the scan. In other words, I'm pissed that I have cancer.
Yes, again, or rather, still. Apparently I'm still not used to the idea.
Also, scared about how bad it will be, nervous about treatments and side effects, and wondering if I'm going to have to argue with my doctors before I'm satisfied with the treatment plan they present. Nothing like anticipating stress to lighten the mood, huh?
Time for chocolate!
I am upset about the scan. More precisely, I'm upset about needing the scan. In other words, I'm pissed that I have cancer.
Yes, again, or rather, still. Apparently I'm still not used to the idea.
Also, scared about how bad it will be, nervous about treatments and side effects, and wondering if I'm going to have to argue with my doctors before I'm satisfied with the treatment plan they present. Nothing like anticipating stress to lighten the mood, huh?
Time for chocolate!
when all you have is a hammer...
...everything looks like a nail.
I understand that human nature dictates that we always think that our professional solution is the right one. It doesn't surprise me that my surgeon wants to operate, or that my NucMed doctor wants to give me another round of RAI.
But I have to weigh this factor in deciding what course of treatment I'll follow. And since I'm already in "off label" territory as far as Thyrogen treatment is concerned, I'm not exactly sure where I'm going to end up.
Today I called the NucMed department and got my schedule for my injections, tracer dose, and scan next week. The plan is to get injections on Tuesday and Wednesday, tracer dose Thursday, then the scan Friday.
That all sounds OK, but then the scheduler continued: We'll also treat you on Friday if the scan is positive.
Wait just a minute, there, Missy! What do you mean? First of all, treatment means going into isolation for at least 3 days, and it's not something I can just jump into.
Second, even if the scan is positive, will another round of RAI now be the best way to treat it? In my discussions with my endo, she talked about getting the WBS and then following up with CT or other scans to get good localizations on whatever is there, and then determining a course of treatment.
However, the Thyrogen is short-acting, and if I don't get treated Friday, I will have to go hypo (off thyroid meds for at least 4 weeks) before I could be treated, or I could try to request another round of Thyrogen but it's likely that the insurance company would deny it.
There's also the fact that Thyrogen isn't even commonly used for people who have not yet had a "clean" (that is, cancer-free) scan, and this is my first follow-up and we're about 100% sure that this scan is not going to be clean. This the "off label" usage I mentioned above.
But actually treating me while on Thyrogen stim is even further off-label! The Thyrogen Patient Information Kit (pdf) even says, Your thyroid hormone therapy must also be stopped if your tests show that you need 131I treatment.
I'm sure there are studies out there showing that it can be effective, and I know approval for this usage is something that the drug manufacturers are pursuing, but that doesn't mean I want to be a de facto uncompensated test case.
In addition, I'm not convinced that RAI is the way to go if it's in the lymph system, which is what my first WBS showed: multiple nodes in the neck and chest. At the time of that scan, I had just been nuked with 206 mCi of RAI, and the hope was that the radiation would clean out those nodes and anything else that might be lurking around. On examination at the beginning of May, my endo found at least 3 suspicious nodes in my neck.
Do I think I still have cancer in my nodes? You bet. Do I think the RAI can get it out of there? Honestly, I know there's a chance that it might, but I also know that historically, surgery (or ethanol ablation) is a much more effective method of eliminating cancerous nodes.
If I have RAI next Friday, they won't do anything else to me until the fall, at least 6 months out. On one hand, that could be a good thing as I could enjoy my summer. On the other hand, I have no confidence that further RAI is going to be all I need, so I'll just have surgery hanging over my head if they do the RAI now -- and the Thyrogen-stim RAI treatment still has me shaking my head. What to do, what to do?
No decisions can be made until after the scan, obviously. But I'm not going blindly into an off-label, less-than-effective treatment just because my NucMed doctor has a hammer and sees my thyca as a nail.
I understand that human nature dictates that we always think that our professional solution is the right one. It doesn't surprise me that my surgeon wants to operate, or that my NucMed doctor wants to give me another round of RAI.
But I have to weigh this factor in deciding what course of treatment I'll follow. And since I'm already in "off label" territory as far as Thyrogen treatment is concerned, I'm not exactly sure where I'm going to end up.
Today I called the NucMed department and got my schedule for my injections, tracer dose, and scan next week. The plan is to get injections on Tuesday and Wednesday, tracer dose Thursday, then the scan Friday.
That all sounds OK, but then the scheduler continued: We'll also treat you on Friday if the scan is positive.
Wait just a minute, there, Missy! What do you mean? First of all, treatment means going into isolation for at least 3 days, and it's not something I can just jump into.
Second, even if the scan is positive, will another round of RAI now be the best way to treat it? In my discussions with my endo, she talked about getting the WBS and then following up with CT or other scans to get good localizations on whatever is there, and then determining a course of treatment.
However, the Thyrogen is short-acting, and if I don't get treated Friday, I will have to go hypo (off thyroid meds for at least 4 weeks) before I could be treated, or I could try to request another round of Thyrogen but it's likely that the insurance company would deny it.
There's also the fact that Thyrogen isn't even commonly used for people who have not yet had a "clean" (that is, cancer-free) scan, and this is my first follow-up and we're about 100% sure that this scan is not going to be clean. This the "off label" usage I mentioned above.
But actually treating me while on Thyrogen stim is even further off-label! The Thyrogen Patient Information Kit (pdf) even says, Your thyroid hormone therapy must also be stopped if your tests show that you need 131I treatment.
I'm sure there are studies out there showing that it can be effective, and I know approval for this usage is something that the drug manufacturers are pursuing, but that doesn't mean I want to be a de facto uncompensated test case.
In addition, I'm not convinced that RAI is the way to go if it's in the lymph system, which is what my first WBS showed: multiple nodes in the neck and chest. At the time of that scan, I had just been nuked with 206 mCi of RAI, and the hope was that the radiation would clean out those nodes and anything else that might be lurking around. On examination at the beginning of May, my endo found at least 3 suspicious nodes in my neck.
Do I think I still have cancer in my nodes? You bet. Do I think the RAI can get it out of there? Honestly, I know there's a chance that it might, but I also know that historically, surgery (or ethanol ablation) is a much more effective method of eliminating cancerous nodes.
If I have RAI next Friday, they won't do anything else to me until the fall, at least 6 months out. On one hand, that could be a good thing as I could enjoy my summer. On the other hand, I have no confidence that further RAI is going to be all I need, so I'll just have surgery hanging over my head if they do the RAI now -- and the Thyrogen-stim RAI treatment still has me shaking my head. What to do, what to do?
No decisions can be made until after the scan, obviously. But I'm not going blindly into an off-label, less-than-effective treatment just because my NucMed doctor has a hammer and sees my thyca as a nail.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
further RotS musings (geek alert)
Revenge of the Sith, and Star Wars in general, is still enjoying a pretty high media saturation rate these days. My home-sick-from-school son watched Episode IV today, and I have to say I enjoyed catching pieces of it here and there as I puttered around doing whatever it was I did all day. Ep IV was fun, whereas all of the prequels have taken themselves way too seriously.
Which is a fine segue into my more recent musings on RotS -- I, too, am taking this stuff too seriously, but I've had this little nagging feeling for a while, and I finally managed to tease out why.
I knew that Lucas was hewing pretty closely to the Campbellian mythic archetype; nothing wrong with that -- it's coming through loud and clear in my latest read Eragon, too. There's a reason archetypes are archetypes; they resonate. I don't have a problem meeting the Hero with a Thousand Faces yet again.
What I do have a problem with is the whole prequel plot. We've got a young man with extraordinary leadership qualities apprenticed to a supernatural/religious order. He falls in love with a politically powerful, beautiful young woman, but they have to keep their marriage a secret because the Powers That Be would not approve. The woman gets pregnant with twins, and delivers a boy and a girl, but dies in the birthing. The hero, gifted with foreknowledge and an ability to read minds, had no idea that his wife was pregnant with twins! Upon hearing of his wife's death, the hero goes mad. He suffers major disfigurement. There's a huge war on, millions upon millions of people die across countless star systems. Later, the son (with some peripheral help from the daughter, but it was mostly the son) helps to bring about the revolution and restore "balance" and peace to the Empire.
Those are the main plot points of Revenge of the Sith. So, what's my problem? They are also the main plot points of Frank Herbert's 1965-1969 Dune series, written well before George Lucas ever dreamed up his little rebels-that-could. Sure, sure, Paul Maud'ib wasn't quite as psycho as Darth Vader, but it's all there:
Anakin => Paul
Jedi => Bene Gesseret
Padme => Chani
Luke & Leia => Leto and Ghanima
and even:
Darth Vader => Maud'ib (who inspired jihads)/The Preacher (who was disfigured)
Is this such a stretch?
Ever since Return of the Jedi, when Vader uttered the infamous "So, you have a twin sister" line, I've had this vague feeling of disgruntlement about this series. Seeing it all plunked down with excruciating exposition in RotS finally clarified it for me.
Maybe everyone else has known about this forever, but I've never seen it discussed before. Maybe I'm just not geeky enough? I still really enjoy Episodes IV-VI, but with this realization the prequels have fallen even further in my estimation. They're not just overblown, badly written, and poorly directed -- their famed story, supposedly strong enough to sustain us through all the other flaws, is nothing more than a watered-down rip-off of a true classic.
Which is a fine segue into my more recent musings on RotS -- I, too, am taking this stuff too seriously, but I've had this little nagging feeling for a while, and I finally managed to tease out why.
I knew that Lucas was hewing pretty closely to the Campbellian mythic archetype; nothing wrong with that -- it's coming through loud and clear in my latest read Eragon, too. There's a reason archetypes are archetypes; they resonate. I don't have a problem meeting the Hero with a Thousand Faces yet again.
What I do have a problem with is the whole prequel plot. We've got a young man with extraordinary leadership qualities apprenticed to a supernatural/religious order. He falls in love with a politically powerful, beautiful young woman, but they have to keep their marriage a secret because the Powers That Be would not approve. The woman gets pregnant with twins, and delivers a boy and a girl, but dies in the birthing. The hero, gifted with foreknowledge and an ability to read minds, had no idea that his wife was pregnant with twins! Upon hearing of his wife's death, the hero goes mad. He suffers major disfigurement. There's a huge war on, millions upon millions of people die across countless star systems. Later, the son (with some peripheral help from the daughter, but it was mostly the son) helps to bring about the revolution and restore "balance" and peace to the Empire.
Those are the main plot points of Revenge of the Sith. So, what's my problem? They are also the main plot points of Frank Herbert's 1965-1969 Dune series, written well before George Lucas ever dreamed up his little rebels-that-could. Sure, sure, Paul Maud'ib wasn't quite as psycho as Darth Vader, but it's all there:
Anakin => Paul
Jedi => Bene Gesseret
Padme => Chani
Luke & Leia => Leto and Ghanima
and even:
Darth Vader => Maud'ib (who inspired jihads)/The Preacher (who was disfigured)
Is this such a stretch?
Ever since Return of the Jedi, when Vader uttered the infamous "So, you have a twin sister" line, I've had this vague feeling of disgruntlement about this series. Seeing it all plunked down with excruciating exposition in RotS finally clarified it for me.
Maybe everyone else has known about this forever, but I've never seen it discussed before. Maybe I'm just not geeky enough? I still really enjoy Episodes IV-VI, but with this realization the prequels have fallen even further in my estimation. They're not just overblown, badly written, and poorly directed -- their famed story, supposedly strong enough to sustain us through all the other flaws, is nothing more than a watered-down rip-off of a true classic.
and it continues
The rest of yesterday didn't get any better. Everyone dropped something or made at least one mess that needed to be cleaned up, it was just that kind of day.
In an attempt to flee this stark reality, I picked up DS1's new book Eragon, and read the first 200 pages of it, and consequently I got to bed around 1:30 or 2AM. Since I spent the last hour-and-a-half of that lying on the couch reading, I figure that almost counts as sleep time, right?
I have learned before that whenever I stretch myself too thin, circumstances arrange themselves to demonstrate to me that it's a really bad idea: you never know what's going to go wrong, and you'll wish you had those energy reserves you squandered away reading a junk fantasy novel at 1 in the morning.
Last night apparently I needed a refresher course in this life lesson, because at 3:30AM there was DS1 at my bedside, complaining very convincingly that his stomach was churning and he felt sick. As an experienced puker, DS1 generally knows what he's talking about regarding these things, so I grabbed my wastepaper basket and held it for him.
Poor kid. He was up about 4 more times between then and 7:30, at which point we both gave up the idea of getting some sleep. Fortunately that was the last time he actually puked so the day went by very peacefully. I think this marks a milestone in that no bedclothes had to be laundered over the course of this illness. (I'm knocking on wood as I write this, because I don't want to jinx myself.)
So last night I didn't get much sleep at all, but it didn't matter too much anyway. We hung out all day. I finished Eragon. I cut up the chicken for dinner and put on a pot of soup with the backs and wingtips and various other inedible parts. (heh) It has been simmering for about 7 hours now and smells fantastic. I'm not exactly sure what I'll use it for, but it certainly won't be wasted. I'm thinking of making chicken masala, and I'm pretty sure that needs chicken broth.
I'm too exhausted to care about much. I learned one other lesson today, though. It's fine to lie completely slumped down on the couch so my lower back has no pressure on it whatsoever. It's also fine to snarf down some really good organic dark chocolate. It's just not a good idea at all to do both at the same time, especially when wearing a white t-shirt. (It's now covered with spots from the chocolate crumbs. Hey, that's why we have bleach!) That organic dark chocolate is a lot more crumbly than my usual bittersweet, I guess.
Live and learn.
In an attempt to flee this stark reality, I picked up DS1's new book Eragon, and read the first 200 pages of it, and consequently I got to bed around 1:30 or 2AM. Since I spent the last hour-and-a-half of that lying on the couch reading, I figure that almost counts as sleep time, right?
I have learned before that whenever I stretch myself too thin, circumstances arrange themselves to demonstrate to me that it's a really bad idea: you never know what's going to go wrong, and you'll wish you had those energy reserves you squandered away reading a junk fantasy novel at 1 in the morning.
Last night apparently I needed a refresher course in this life lesson, because at 3:30AM there was DS1 at my bedside, complaining very convincingly that his stomach was churning and he felt sick. As an experienced puker, DS1 generally knows what he's talking about regarding these things, so I grabbed my wastepaper basket and held it for him.
Poor kid. He was up about 4 more times between then and 7:30, at which point we both gave up the idea of getting some sleep. Fortunately that was the last time he actually puked so the day went by very peacefully. I think this marks a milestone in that no bedclothes had to be laundered over the course of this illness. (I'm knocking on wood as I write this, because I don't want to jinx myself.)
So last night I didn't get much sleep at all, but it didn't matter too much anyway. We hung out all day. I finished Eragon. I cut up the chicken for dinner and put on a pot of soup with the backs and wingtips and various other inedible parts. (heh) It has been simmering for about 7 hours now and smells fantastic. I'm not exactly sure what I'll use it for, but it certainly won't be wasted. I'm thinking of making chicken masala, and I'm pretty sure that needs chicken broth.
I'm too exhausted to care about much. I learned one other lesson today, though. It's fine to lie completely slumped down on the couch so my lower back has no pressure on it whatsoever. It's also fine to snarf down some really good organic dark chocolate. It's just not a good idea at all to do both at the same time, especially when wearing a white t-shirt. (It's now covered with spots from the chocolate crumbs. Hey, that's why we have bleach!) That organic dark chocolate is a lot more crumbly than my usual bittersweet, I guess.
Live and learn.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
that kind of a day
I actually got to bed at a reasonable hour last night.
This morning I woke up at 5, used the bathroom, and went back to sleep.
8:30 rolls around and I struggle to the surface, only to be sorry that I bothered when I was finally awake.
You've heard that expression, I felt like I was hit by a truck?
Yeah, that was me, this morning. Everything, but everything, hurt. If you've never experienced this feeling, there's no describing it. If, say, you're sitting at a lecture and you start to feel a little twinge, you can usually cross your legs the other way or stretch out your arms in front of you to get the kinks out. This morning, it literally did not matter what I did, it hurt.
Then DS2 comes in, very cheerful as usual. He was dressed, all by himself! Amazing. I asked him about breakfast, he had had "just one piece of toast," so could he have, "poached eggs and more toast?" Sure, just give me a minute (an hour, a day...) to get up here...
I hauled myself out of bed, took my meds, took out my retainer and cleaned my teeth, got dressed, came downstairs and made him eggs and toast. And then...
clunk
Uh-oh. An entire cup of milk up-ended onto the table, his breakfast (fortunately, the toast was spared, and the eggs were almost gone anyway), DS1, his chair, the floor... (whimper)
But: "No crying! Remember the saying?" I mop it all up, give him the choice: change first, or finish eating and then change? He elects to eat his toast and then change.
I putter around some more, waiting for the hour since I took my meds to elapse. We have errands to do! Finally I can make myself a protein shake and we can be out the door... I open the cupboard and lift the container out by the lid, which promptly pops off in my hands. The container falls the foot-and-a-half to the floor, falls over, and rolls.
I admit, I just stood there watching it until it stopped, a trail of chocolate-flavored protein powder in its wake. Fortunately there wasn't all that much left of it, else it would've been a much bigger mess...
The stick vaccuum got most of it up, but then the battery died and I mopped up the rest of it with paper towels. (sigh)
Errands, now. Trader Joe's went fine, although I'm sure I forgot something. Then, Sam's Club, except now I'm feeling very unwell, and debate whether or not to go home. Then it became clear that the best thing to do would be to stop and use their bathroom, because home was definitely too far away.
(TMI warning)
I felt like my innards had been pureed and were now falling out of me.
(end TMI warning)
Then there's the added stress of having DS1, 4 years old, with me. He's all happy and stuff, he loves going out and about, and he thinks public bathrooms are cool. He is fascinated by the new, fully automatic bathrooms at Sam's Club. I just appreciate that they are clean, and frankly just that they exist at this point.
So he's all, let's go, let's go, and I have to explain to him that I'm feeling pretty sick. His nonchalance was remarkable. It was exactly the same as if I had told him, "I need to finish reading this," or something similarly innocuous. I guess that's a good thing(?), the kid not realizing that his mom wants to just curl up in a ball and whimper?
So I get through that and we do speed-shopping and then stand on line to get cookies for the kids at the cafe, and we're late to get DD but she doesn't mind because, you see, we have the cookies.
Come home, put away the groceries (chicken leaked! ick), get the kids lunch, feel like keeling over.
Then I got a call from my gastroenterologist's office, an automated message actually. It's time for me to schedule a follow-up appointment. I don't want to. The way things are going lately, he'll schedule at least 2 invasive procedures to try and figure out what's going on, both of which will be inconclusive or reveal something else dreadful for me to deal with. No thanks!
Well, I guess I'll think about it.
This morning I woke up at 5, used the bathroom, and went back to sleep.
8:30 rolls around and I struggle to the surface, only to be sorry that I bothered when I was finally awake.
You've heard that expression, I felt like I was hit by a truck?
Yeah, that was me, this morning. Everything, but everything, hurt. If you've never experienced this feeling, there's no describing it. If, say, you're sitting at a lecture and you start to feel a little twinge, you can usually cross your legs the other way or stretch out your arms in front of you to get the kinks out. This morning, it literally did not matter what I did, it hurt.
Then DS2 comes in, very cheerful as usual. He was dressed, all by himself! Amazing. I asked him about breakfast, he had had "just one piece of toast," so could he have, "poached eggs and more toast?" Sure, just give me a minute (an hour, a day...) to get up here...
I hauled myself out of bed, took my meds, took out my retainer and cleaned my teeth, got dressed, came downstairs and made him eggs and toast. And then...
clunk
Uh-oh. An entire cup of milk up-ended onto the table, his breakfast (fortunately, the toast was spared, and the eggs were almost gone anyway), DS1, his chair, the floor... (whimper)
But: "No crying! Remember the saying?" I mop it all up, give him the choice: change first, or finish eating and then change? He elects to eat his toast and then change.
I putter around some more, waiting for the hour since I took my meds to elapse. We have errands to do! Finally I can make myself a protein shake and we can be out the door... I open the cupboard and lift the container out by the lid, which promptly pops off in my hands. The container falls the foot-and-a-half to the floor, falls over, and rolls.
I admit, I just stood there watching it until it stopped, a trail of chocolate-flavored protein powder in its wake. Fortunately there wasn't all that much left of it, else it would've been a much bigger mess...
The stick vaccuum got most of it up, but then the battery died and I mopped up the rest of it with paper towels. (sigh)
Errands, now. Trader Joe's went fine, although I'm sure I forgot something. Then, Sam's Club, except now I'm feeling very unwell, and debate whether or not to go home. Then it became clear that the best thing to do would be to stop and use their bathroom, because home was definitely too far away.
(TMI warning)
I felt like my innards had been pureed and were now falling out of me.
(end TMI warning)
Then there's the added stress of having DS1, 4 years old, with me. He's all happy and stuff, he loves going out and about, and he thinks public bathrooms are cool. He is fascinated by the new, fully automatic bathrooms at Sam's Club. I just appreciate that they are clean, and frankly just that they exist at this point.
So he's all, let's go, let's go, and I have to explain to him that I'm feeling pretty sick. His nonchalance was remarkable. It was exactly the same as if I had told him, "I need to finish reading this," or something similarly innocuous. I guess that's a good thing(?), the kid not realizing that his mom wants to just curl up in a ball and whimper?
So I get through that and we do speed-shopping and then stand on line to get cookies for the kids at the cafe, and we're late to get DD but she doesn't mind because, you see, we have the cookies.
Come home, put away the groceries (chicken leaked! ick), get the kids lunch, feel like keeling over.
Then I got a call from my gastroenterologist's office, an automated message actually. It's time for me to schedule a follow-up appointment. I don't want to. The way things are going lately, he'll schedule at least 2 invasive procedures to try and figure out what's going on, both of which will be inconclusive or reveal something else dreadful for me to deal with. No thanks!
Well, I guess I'll think about it.
Grand Rounds at Iatremia
Michael Chaplin has done a bang-up job of putting together this weeks Grand Rounds.
He intro'd my HIPAA v jury selection committee piece with a great 1984-esque quote: War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength. HIPAA is privacy. -- Dr. Orwell
I admit that I got a huge kick out of the presentation because I recognized most of the quotes, and appreciated how he tweaked each of them to give them the right "med" perspective.
He intro'd my HIPAA v jury selection committee piece with a great 1984-esque quote: War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength. HIPAA is privacy. -- Dr. Orwell
I admit that I got a huge kick out of the presentation because I recognized most of the quotes, and appreciated how he tweaked each of them to give them the right "med" perspective.
Monday, May 23, 2005
flare
My rheumatoid arthritis (RA) is acting up lately. That means my hands, feet, and hips (mostly) throb quietly all day at around 4 on the 10-point pain scale. The constant nagging pain is exhausting and gets in the way of all sorts of things. My hands aren't quite useless but I find myself dropping things, not to mention putting DD through an unnecessarily rough time when trying to put her hair up. For some reason, the cat's prescription bottle has become completely impossible to open, even though my own prescriptions remain accessible.
When I'm in a flare (that's what it's called when a chronic disease like RA rears its ugly head), there are two main questions that keep nagging at me: why is this happening? and how long will this last?
I think I have a handle on why this is happening. I've been taking minocycline, the only antibiotic prescribed for RA (and no one is exactly sure why it works) 2x/day now for about a year. One of the great things about it is that it's cheap, especially as I can get a 3 month supply from the mail-order pharmacy for less than $20. You can't beat that.
Except... I let my supply run down and didn't realize I needed to get a new prescription, which means, because this is mail order, having a new prescription physically in hand to mail to the pharmacy. Arg! I finally arranged to do all that, but I knew that it would take at least a week, maybe two, for the new supply to arrive. So I rationed myself, one a day, until the new prescription came in.
Happily, I only had go on the half-dose for 5 or 6 days, but on the third day I was already starting to feel it. I've been back on the full dose for the better part of a week now, but it's not getting any better -- if anything, it's getting worse.
My weight was up to 132 pounds this morning, the first day I've been over 130 that wasn't post-operative in I don't know how long. I have no doubt as to where the weight is, as my hands and feet are swollen -- the rest of me is, too, but it's not as noticeable.
I'm thinking about what I've been eating, which has been more relaxed than usual, given the pending LID. I haven't been exercising, but then again, I rarely exercise, so that's nothing new. I've had periods of lazy decadence before, though, and none of them have triggered a flare.
The last thing I can point to is that I've been really, really bad about staying up too late. I've had a few 4AM bedtimes recently, which is just too stupid for words. It's my quiet mechanism for freaking out, and it's probably the most destructive thing I do to myself. Naps just can't make up the difference in lost sleep hours.
On the other hand, I've been through similar freaking-out-staying-up-late cycles before, and they haven't triggered a flare.
Maybe it's the combination of everything? It probably is, but there's no way I'll ever get a definitive answer.
So now I'm doing my best to get out of this thing: taking my meds 2x/day like a good girl, and getting a hold on my ridiculous excesses, diet-wise. The one thing I've been failing at is getting to bed at a decent hour, but tonight is another opportunity.
Diet, medications, exercise, sleep -- those are things I can control, but there's no assurance they'll work. I've had a really good year, RA-wise, even though I've had surgeries and radiation and all the accompanying psychic trauma. This particular flare came on fast, like I fell into a deep hole, and it is taking way too long to climb back out again.
The timing is lousy, but that is no coincidence. If I weren't stressing about the cancer stuff, would this be happening? Is there any point in asking questions like that?
No -- and there's still no word on the schedule for the Thyrogen shots and body scan.
When I'm in a flare (that's what it's called when a chronic disease like RA rears its ugly head), there are two main questions that keep nagging at me: why is this happening? and how long will this last?
I think I have a handle on why this is happening. I've been taking minocycline, the only antibiotic prescribed for RA (and no one is exactly sure why it works) 2x/day now for about a year. One of the great things about it is that it's cheap, especially as I can get a 3 month supply from the mail-order pharmacy for less than $20. You can't beat that.
Except... I let my supply run down and didn't realize I needed to get a new prescription, which means, because this is mail order, having a new prescription physically in hand to mail to the pharmacy. Arg! I finally arranged to do all that, but I knew that it would take at least a week, maybe two, for the new supply to arrive. So I rationed myself, one a day, until the new prescription came in.
Happily, I only had go on the half-dose for 5 or 6 days, but on the third day I was already starting to feel it. I've been back on the full dose for the better part of a week now, but it's not getting any better -- if anything, it's getting worse.
My weight was up to 132 pounds this morning, the first day I've been over 130 that wasn't post-operative in I don't know how long. I have no doubt as to where the weight is, as my hands and feet are swollen -- the rest of me is, too, but it's not as noticeable.
I'm thinking about what I've been eating, which has been more relaxed than usual, given the pending LID. I haven't been exercising, but then again, I rarely exercise, so that's nothing new. I've had periods of lazy decadence before, though, and none of them have triggered a flare.
The last thing I can point to is that I've been really, really bad about staying up too late. I've had a few 4AM bedtimes recently, which is just too stupid for words. It's my quiet mechanism for freaking out, and it's probably the most destructive thing I do to myself. Naps just can't make up the difference in lost sleep hours.
On the other hand, I've been through similar freaking-out-staying-up-late cycles before, and they haven't triggered a flare.
Maybe it's the combination of everything? It probably is, but there's no way I'll ever get a definitive answer.
So now I'm doing my best to get out of this thing: taking my meds 2x/day like a good girl, and getting a hold on my ridiculous excesses, diet-wise. The one thing I've been failing at is getting to bed at a decent hour, but tonight is another opportunity.
Diet, medications, exercise, sleep -- those are things I can control, but there's no assurance they'll work. I've had a really good year, RA-wise, even though I've had surgeries and radiation and all the accompanying psychic trauma. This particular flare came on fast, like I fell into a deep hole, and it is taking way too long to climb back out again.
The timing is lousy, but that is no coincidence. If I weren't stressing about the cancer stuff, would this be happening? Is there any point in asking questions like that?
No -- and there's still no word on the schedule for the Thyrogen shots and body scan.
coming back to Terri
Yesterday, Ann Althouse linked to Joan Didion's piece in the NY Review of Books, The Case of Theresa Schiavo. It is a long, impressive article which highlights many of the peculiarities of the case.
This morning, Amy Wellborn has linked to it as well. Having thought about it this a great deal overnight, I left this comment:
At the time, I felt that there were many opportunities to help Terri that were denied. Now in retrospect, it becomes even more obvious. Whether or not Terri was beyond help will never be resolved now. May she rest in peace.
This morning, Amy Wellborn has linked to it as well. Having thought about it this a great deal overnight, I left this comment:
Ann Althouse also linked to Didion, so I read this great but ultimately disappointing piece yesterday. I was disappointed because it was nearly entirely a straightforward (and very fair) rendition of the facts, with notations along the way of how certain facts were constantly being twisted or just left out altogether, but it never moved beyond what happened to examine why, and what should happen moving forward.
One factual omission that Didion herself is guilty of is in not pointing out that the infamous Republican "talking points" memo was not produced by the leaders of the party, but rather was written by a low-level staffer and through a ludicrous (but not malicious) chain of events it was circulated among a few of the party leads. It was far from the "master plan" that the media made it out to be -- but in her glancing references, Didion did not refute the conventional wisdom that it was.
Finally the article just petered out with speculations about how much or how little this case would affect the next election cycle. I would have liked to see what Didion's take on the whole situation was -- the column was published in a review, after all, and one reads a review to hear the reviewer's opinion. She was willing to comment on various events throughout the case -- for example, the unnecessary removal of the feeding tube, rather than just the cessation of feeding -- but punted the opportunity to note that Terri's death was essentially murder by court order.
At the time, I felt that there were many opportunities to help Terri that were denied. Now in retrospect, it becomes even more obvious. Whether or not Terri was beyond help will never be resolved now. May she rest in peace.
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