I Am Lazy

A. What I planned on doing over my three day weekend:
Get blood drawn for a final round of blood tests.
Clean out closet.
Make pile of clothes for tailoring
Make pile of clothes for charity.
Iron.
Clear out my study, dust shelves and wash floor.
Clean bathroom.
Clean out spare room.
Bag clothes and other items (that have been sitting in spare room for weeks) for charity.
Laundry.

B. What I accomplished over my three day weekend.
Got blood drawn from a final round of blood tests.
Laundry.

C. What I did instead of the majority of list A:
Spent most of Friday after blood draw sleeping (the nurse took 5 vials of blood).
Took J to Seviche for dinner on Friday night.
Watched Ocean's 11 on Friday night.
Attempted to locate and purchase a enameled dutch oven on Saturday afternoon.
Watched Ocean's 12 on Saturday night.
Breakfast at Eat N' Park in Sunday morning.
Attended Penguins game. Took many photographs of all time favorite player, Martin Straka, during warm ups. Yelled at fans who refused to sit down while puck was in play.

FYI: I don't know why the photographs are blurry. I think I need to get the lens checked.



Some scoreboard text messages from the last two games:

"Chuck Norris wears Malkin pj pants".
"Gary Roberts counted to infinity twice".
"Captain America wears Gary Roberts Underoos".
"the forecast finally says fleury!!"

Small Swift Birds

I've had a lot to write about in the past several weeks. I've had a lot to write about and very little to say. Emotionally I am tired, numb and discovering that there is a limit to the amount of distressing information I can process at one time before I shut down.

I lost a friend to suicide two weeks ago. A second, untimely death in a period of three weeks. I lost my friend and I am having a difficult time mourning his loss. I'm having a difficult time thinking anything good about him, and I know that there was a great deal of good. He loved me like a younger sister and watched over me during the brief time I spent working in South Carolina ten years ago. He loved his adolescent son. He was incredibly literate and had a quick, sharp wit. He was self educated. He embraced J as his own and enthusiastically blessed our relationship.

He was also terribly flawed. At his worst, he was verbally abusive, emotionally intrusive and pushy. He had very little respect for other people's physical and emotional boundaries. He was stubborn, impulsive and self destructive. These flaws cost him his marriage and created a rift between himself and his son.

He tried to seek redemption and make amends. To his ex-wife, to his child, to his friends. It was not enough. The trauma of unemployment, of near homelessness, of debt, of estrangement from his son, of a million other things he never talked about, it wore him down and wore him out.

There has been no explanation for how he died, no invitation to his memorial service. On some level his siblings blame his friends for his death. Because we should have know he was clinically depressed. We should have known he stopped taking his medication in September and ceased meetings with his therapist. His family knew the signs, why didn't we?

We did not. So my friend left, like a small swift bird. One day we looked, and could not find him anywhere.

A Good Easter to be A Penguins Fan

As St. Francis Central Hospital finally comes down:



As Evgeni Malkin tops 100 points in the season.

And the Penguins move into first place in the Atlantic Division by beating the New Jersey Devils 7-1.
Happy Easter.

In Honor of Mister Rogers

Mr. McFeely has requested that we wear our favorite sweater on March 20.

Unfortunately, my favorite sweater is not fit for public consumption. So my second favorite will have to do.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Thousands are Sailing



Body of an American

An aside: I want this song played at my funeral.

In Pittsburgh, Even the Buildings are Stubborn

After repeated failures to take down St. Francis Central Hospital via controlled collapse, contractors have thrown up their hands and will be imploding the building the morning of March 22.

Filing under "Penguins" as the demolition of the building will enable construction on the new arena to move ahead.

For Bill

Rest in Peace.



-- Ocelot

End of the Saga

I am hoping that this is the last post on the state of my health. I can't seem to find a way of framing what is happening to me in a manner that takes in the broader issues of class and income. It seems petty to whine about the time, the expense, the stupid lectures when there are so many people in the United States without access to decent health insurance and/or reliable doctors.

Except I could not turn off the interior monologue, which became louder when the forms to appeal company X's refusal to approve a chest CT scan arrived in the mail. Seeing the phrase “suspected malignancy” in print is demoralizing. Waiting for information on procedures is demoralizing.

The arguments with Insurance Company X over which procedures are medically necessary, the trips for consults, MRI's and CT scans, the lecture from my mother over refusing contrast, all of this is making me weary. In between I've also had annual visits to the dentist and the optometrist and a consult with a periodontist. I have spent more time in medical offices in the past six weeks then I have in the last ten years.

It is not over quite yet, but it is close. My scans are normal. My blood work is normal. My x-rays are normal. I have orders for physical therapy on my left shoulder, to strengthen the tendon. I have an estimate for two gum grafts, to fix the recession on two of my teeth. And I have a GP who thinks that I have been through enough – and that I am normal.

Right Wing Clash of the Titans

Forward:
My sense of humor and writing abilities are off tonight. I want to write a post about the significance of the fight brewing between McCain and Donohue, but I just don't have it in me right now. I'm worn out from worry and the various battles I have had to fight in the past few weeks.

Meet Pastor John Hagee. Pastor Hagee, an evangelical and pastor of a Texas “mega-church” recently endorsed John McCain as his Presidential candidate of choice. Pastor Hagee's pastimes include suggesting that natural disasters are the demonstrable wrath of God (ala Hurricane Katrina) and that Harry Potter will turn adolescents towards the occult.

And Hagee is an anti-Catholic in a vocal, the-Catholic-church-is-the-anti-Christ-and-caused-the-holocaust, way.

Equally vocal in protesting McCain's acceptance of Hagee's endorsement is professional victim, whiner* and head of the Catholic League, Bill Donohue. Bill Donohue enjoys spending his time seeking out anti-Catholic bigotry, leaving no straw un-grasped. Recent victories included a protest against the display of a chocolate crucifix titled "My Sweet Lord", a boycott of all forms of The Golden Compass and complaining about Kathy Griffin's 2007 Emmy acceptance speech.

A politician caught out for playing both sides of the field? Time to get out the popcorn toppings. Butter, salt, cinnamon or hot pepper?

*Writing a series of novels using the organizational structure of the Catholic church as a model is not anti-Catholicism. It is whining. Contrast this with having half your relatives disown you because of your religious tradition or a co-worker offer to marry you “so you'll be saved”.

A Little Bit of Spam Zen

Caught by the Google spam filter earlier this week:

The header:
“hockey games by 2009. The Penguins will sign a temporaryPakistan's capital to express their solidarity asknown as, "Kiwi 1960", suggests that the man's first”.

The footer:
“In the wake of Jacques Chirac's announcement that hehelp.New York based Human Rights Watch has issued a statementNHL: Penguins to remain in Pittsburgh”.

Who knew that Jacques Chirac and Human Rights Watch were instrumental in keeping the Penguins in Pittsburgh? It certainly explains all those mysterious midnight meetings held in New Jersey between Ed Rendell and the NHL.

Query: is there something wrong with me giggling every time I receive a pitch for a male enhancement product? And for scratching my head over the eHarmony ads?

Early St. Patrick's Greetings

Just because I was in a Kirsty Maccoll/Pogues/Cole Porter mood today:

Rage

This is not about me. This is not my story. This story belongs to J and J's family. My only role is to stand on the periphery and be silent. Listen, but not speak. Keep whatever little wisdom and counsel I think I can impart to myself.

There was a tragedy this past week. A member of J's family died, by his own hand. He was mentally ill for almost 30 years. So deeply ill that he refused to believe it, refused to acknowledge it. So deep in denial that all attempts to get him help were rebuffed. So bad that in the end, at the end, his own children did not feel safe.

His illness was a secret from almost everyone until almost the end. Until first his children, then his wife, decided they had enough. Thinking that he had nothing left he killed himself.

Now J's family questions everything. They say that he was a stranger, that they never knew him. They wavier between thankfulness that he did not hurt anyone else and rage at the cruelty of his act.

And they cry. Even the men, they cry.

Another Reason for Healthcare Reform

My GP has admission privileges to multiple hospitals in the Pittsburgh area.
She retired from one of those hospitals recently. She still retains privileges at several other hospitals and is still practicing.
The hospital [thoughtfully] notified all insurance providers in the area that she had retired.
The insurance companies, in turn, removed from the preferred/approved provider lists.
Because she is no longer on the lists (even though she is still practicing), my insurance will not authorize the CT scans she ordered.

Her office assures me that they are working diligently to have the situation rectified.

Gods forbid this happen to someone with serious medical issues.

Health - the Sequel

Today I had my shoulder examined by an orthopedic surgeon at UPMC Sports Medicine. According to the scheduler I spoke with last week, my doctor is an authority on shoulders, that is almost all he does and he is very good at it. According to several of his biographies, this particular doctor is also an assistant professor at the University of Pittsburgh Medical School and one of the Penguins' team physicians. According to one of our friends, who works as a sales representative for a company that produces joint replacement parts (seriously), he is highly respected and has his interns do a lot of the work.

I liked him. He was very clinical and extremely professional, almost to the point of coldness. Yet he managed to come across as a nice man, possibly due to the fact that he had to tie the back of my gown closed.* Which he did, in a very professional, business-like manner and surprisingly gentle manner.

He had an intern with him, also a man, whose primary function seem to be to observe and neatly print out the doctor's scripts.** I found the interaction between the two highly entertaining, as I sensed that the intern was restraining a large part of his personality in deference to the authority in the room.

The diagnosis was a torn rotator cuff, severity to be determined upon the completion of the MRI. Fraying will mean physical therapy, a hole or significant tearing will surgery. I was instructed to call and leave a message with his secretary after I had the MRI, as he suspected that the damage was minor and would only require physical therapy, which meant I would not have to see him again.

The MRI is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.

And insurance continues to be a headache. As my first round of blood tests was (tragically) normal, my GP has decided to send me for a set of CT scans, just to be thorough. My attempt to schedule the scans was thwarted when I was informed that my insurance required pre-authorization. No magic number, no appointment.

*Moment Number One: I was instructed before the exam to tie the gown halter style around my neck, so my shoulders would remain bare. Somewhere between the telling and my brain's translation, the idea that I also needed to tie the back of the gown was lost.
**Moment Number Two: The script for my MRI was made out to my GP. I politely pointed out to the intern that my GP would probably disagree with the need to have an MRI and perhaps he could correct the name. Which he, highly embarrassed, did immediately.

Soup with Nuts

The New York Times is running a blog on migraines this month, with several well known authors (and a famous musician) each taking a turn discussing the different ways they learned to cope with migraines and other headache disorders. The comments have been fascinating and aggravating.

In an anti-harmonic convergence, I woke up last night with my first full blown migraine in almost a year. The intense pain coupled with extreme nausea made it difficult for me to get up. Since the only available remedy at the intense pain/nausea stage is to sleep the rest of the headache off, I went back to sleep, first on the downstairs couch, then back to the bed. In between the transfer J bought me a glass of warm water and some ibuprofen as a barrier against more pain.

The headache made us late in our search of local entertainment today. We started with two stops in the Strip District. Our first stop was at The Enrico Biscotti Café for a late breakfast of pizza topped with blue cheese and cranberries, biscotti and goat cheese canolli. The smells in the cafe were amazing and I wished (not for the first time today) I had grabbed my camera to take some photographs of the reclaimed warehouse interior.

Next was a stop at Pennsylvania Macaroni Company for some cheese. Penn Mac and Trader Joe's are the two places in which J and I have to establish a set spending amount beforehand, less we go into debt buying out the cheese counter. The best part about Penn Mac (and Trader's Joe) is that all the people in the store are happy because they are purchasing good food.

On our way back we passed a table full green Pittsburgh wear, in anticipation of St. Patrick's Day. My favorite was a kelly green t-shirt with the logo “It's good to be a Penguins fan”.

Next up was a stop at O'Bannon's Oriental Carpets, to show J the “School of Fish” carpet that inspired me to give him a small fish rug for Christmas. We had a good time looking at the other carpets in the store, all of them insanely expensive, handwoven woolen wonders.

Our final stop was a walk down Carson Street as participants in the Fourth Annual South Side Mid-Winter Soup Contest. Armed with a spoon and an appetite, for five dollars and the donation of a canned good, we were able to sample the soups from twenty of the South Side's restaurants and vote for our favorite. The most unusual combination came from the 17th Street Café, a Bacon bleu cheese and apple soup that was surprisingly good. We thought we were hard core toting our own spoons until we saw a woman carrying her own spoon and mug.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Yes, I know its late. Kisses from Oscar Wilde for all of you.

Dear Media,

Especially Maureen Dowd...

Enough commentary on the Clinton's marriage. Enough "conversation" about what Senator Clinton should or should not have done to deal with her husband's multiple extramarital affairs. Enough snark about how a vote for HRC will only put her husband back in the White House. Enough discussion over her inability to "control" him. And God forbid that even one of you admit that maybe, just maybe, Senator Clinton accomplished something using her own considerable talents.

Marriage is difficult enough to negotiate on the private stage in which J and myself conduct our relationship. I can't imagine what it must be like to try maintain a relationship on such a public stage, for so many years.

So you who decries the divorce rate, you who complains that we live in a society that does not value marriage or family, you who cannot conceive of the myriad of ways in which a marriage can thrive, it is time for you to shut, the fuck, up.

Really.

Enough.

Stumbling Across Odds and Ends

I've got nothing right now. The most exciting things currently happening in Pittsburgh are a winter storm warning and the sudden, surprise deterioration of the Birmingham Bridge.

Oh yes, and the demolition of St. Francis Central Hospital (future home of the Penguins) is not going well. At all. As in the company is having a bit of trouble bringing the building down without the use of explosives. All that Pittsburgh steel is turning out to be a challenge to the demolition experts

There have been small pleasures. Last night's subplot of the Simpson's included the voices of graphic novelists Art Spiegelman (Maus), Daniel Clowes (Ghost World) and Alan Moore (Lost Girls). The highlight was a cartoon promotion poster of Lost Girls hanging behind the novelists.

I think next year I want to spend my vacation in a tree house. Or how about a night in the Icehotel?

Flickr

When I started this blog I was using Picasa (now owned by Google). Then I switched to a Macintosh and was no longer able to access my account from a Macintosh. So I switched to Flickr.

I don't use it very often, now that Picasa has been integrated into the rest of Google's applications. I still have an account at Flickr, which I use primarily when I need access to digital images for work. The most popular photograph is also one of the worst I have ever taken - a candid shot of Sidney Crosby on the ice after the last home game of his rookie season.

As has been well publicized in the past several weeks, Microsoft is planning a hostile take over of Yahoo and all of it's holdings, including Flickr. Reluctantly, I have decided to take down the majority of the photographs in the upcoming weeks, including the Sidney Crosby photo.

Some would see this as a premature reaction to Microsoft's bid and that Yahoo will prevail. I'm not so sure. While the Federal Government has expended an enormous amount of time and resources in anti-trust lawsuits against Microsoft, there is absolutely no reason for me to believe that they are anything other than pro-business - the larger the business the better. Recent court decisions (Supreme and otherwise) do little to reassure me that the little people; whether that be a woman suing under EEOC or a small business, can prevail.

I Thought I Would Let you Know...

That I am beginning to despise Maureen Dowd as much as I despise Ann Coulter.

And Stanley Fish rocks.

That is all.