healing

I'm actually starting to feel like myself again, and like I'm inhabiting my own life.

It's hard to describe, or even to understand, how much energy the body takes to heal, including mental energy. For nearly four weeks, I've put aside the details of moving and work. Without consciously realizing it, I kept my life as stress- and worry-free as possible. No compulsive on-line furniture viewing. No worrying about who's going to be where to accept packages, or a move date, or anything about work (except for the friendly co-counselors whom I miss).

But in the last couple of days, my pain and discomfort have been really minimal, and I haven't had a shot of muscle relaxant since Monday. I may even be able to stop using the painkillers before the prescription runs out; I'm certainly no longer having noticeable pain as the dose wears off. The doctor said I can start physical therapy next week, and I think he's close to giving me a back-to-work date. I'll see him later today,for the first time since Monday.

To backtrack some days...soon after the injury, I was concerned about possible internal organ damage. I was less worried as time went on, but I still wanted a test to know for sure. So I had a sonogram. When the doctor got the results, he said there were two small masses on my left kidney. They could have been anything, even cancer, so I went for a CT scan. Fortunately, they were something called angiolipomas, which are entirely benign and nothing has to be done for them. All organs are fine.

Yesterday, I went ahead and ordered a dining table and chairs for the new apartment, which are pretty much the only essential pieces of furniture I hadn't ordered yet. I'd actually seen the ones I wanted some weeks back, and had pretty much decided on them, but I just couldn't wrap my head around actually placing the order. But now it's done.

While I was on a roll, I also bought a new phone, which I've been dithering about for weeks. My current phone isn't totally shot, but it has a couple of small cracks, so anew phone wasn't an absolute necessity. But then I started coming up against insufficient memory; it only has 8GB, so I found myself having to delete things when apps needed updating. Plus, I've actually never had a brand-new smartphone. I started with a used one, and since I have insurance through my carrier, all of my phones have been refurbished replacements, and never the newest model. So now I'll have the newest model.

I certainly didn't expect recovering from a serious injury to be the prologue to my new life, but maybe it's provided me with a cool-down period (as painful and frightening as it was).

hip and holidays

We had an after-work party on Monday to celebrate the birthday of one of our counselors, but it was mostly an excuse to have a staff party. We have a huge kitchen/main room, and tables were decorated with all kinds of sports motifs in honor of Sam; there was alcohol and kosher Chinese food was brought it, cake and a pretty fruit platter. Dancing ensued. Not one was allowed to stay seated. The best surprise was one of the young Orthodox guys doing a killer Michael Jackson. Who woulda thunk?

I acquitted myself nicely, until all of a sudden...a horrible pain in my hip. I limped home, applied a cold pack and took ibuprofen, called in sick the next day and did more of the same, and went back to work Wednesday, still limping and in pain. What I didn't want to do was go to my doctor, who would certainly send me to an orthopedist. Since it continued to hurt a lot - I take seven flights of stairs in my daily commute, plus my apartment is two flights up - I saw my chiropractor today, for the first time in years. (If anyone in Brooklyn needs a chiropractor, I would recommend Scott Skolkin with absolutely no reservations. He is incredible, and one of the nicest guys ever.) The limping was causing all kinds of back and leg pain, which I knew needed a chiropractor. Luckily, Scott is in my insurance network, no referral required, $20 co-pay. However, he couldn't x-ray me without permission from the insurance company, so he didn't adjust me. He did say that a large black-and-blue mark indicated some level of tissue damage. He did do some message and applied heat, so it does feel a good deal better for now. He should have the insurance company approval by around Wednesday.

This was emailed to me a few days ago:

Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as Holiday Trees for the first time this year, which prompted Ben Stein, to say, on CBS Sunday Morning,

My confession: I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejewelled trees, Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a nativity scene, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina). Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?'

In light of recent events... terrorist attacks, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said okay.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.
Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing yet?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.

If not, then just discard it.... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what a bad shape the world is in.

My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully,

Ben Stein

I have very mixed feelings about this. I do think it's idiotic to refer to a Christmas tree as a "holiday tree," since it's a Christian symbol of a Christian holiday that occurs during the holiday season, along with something like six other holidays celebrated by various non-Christian religions.

I'm not crazy about being wished "Merry Christmas," because it always seems to carry that implication that everyone is Christian, or at least that everyone should be celebrating the Christian holiday. I generally don't wish non-Jews "Happy Chanukah," although I do wish Christians "Merry Christmas" (or sometimes "Happy Holidays," which to me indicates holidays of all faiths that take place in this season).

I do have a problem with Christmas, since in America, it seems to have become about 80% crass commercialism, 15% peace-on-earth, and 5% birth-of-Jesus. I have no problem with the latter two, but I cannot stand the constant advertising labeling practically everything a "great Christmas gift."  There's a commercial Best Buy is running this year that says if you buy their products as gifts, you will "win Christmas" - meaning that your gifts will be better than everyone else's. Competitive gifting: horrible.

Some years back, I worked in an office with two younger women, who always played an internet radio station which was basically music from the 70s on, minus any black music whatever, not even Michael Jackson. After Thanksgiving, they asked me if it was OK to play Christmas music. I said sure. Those weeks basically ruined Christmas music for me, even the cool ones like Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," the Paul McCartney Chirstmas song, "Jingle Bell Rock," et al. I cannot stand Christmas music any more.

Another problem I have with Christmas is this: when I was a kid, I of course always wanted a Christmas tree, and my parents told me very plainly that we were Jewish and did not celebrate Christmas. We had the usual Reform Jewish Chanukah: lit the menorah and said the bruchas (prayers when the candles are lit), received the eight days of modest gifts, ate latkes (potato pancakes which are traditional for Chanukah).

After my parents divorced, my father married a very lovely woman who is Catholic. They had a rabbi-and-priest wedding, but my father is not very religious and my stepmother is very observant, so the Christian holidays pretty much "won." My father announced to my brother and me that we were celebrating Christmas and had to buy gifts for him, my stepmother, and my stepmother's sister and parents. (My stepmother's sister is a very cool nun.) My brother and I were maybe 10 and 13, and not having grown up with the habit of saving up money for Christmas gifts (Chanukah gifts are parents-to-children only), not only had to frantically scrape together money, but also to choose gifts for people we barely knew. Whatever we received did not compensate for the anxiety of the gift-giving end. A year or two later, my father announced that we were no longer to buy gifts jointly, since we were each given individual gifts, and that was even worse. 

 

One year, I was unemployed, and told my father, in advance of the holiday, that I had absolutely no money to buy gifts He said, "It's OK, they don't have to be big gifts, just a little something." Bad, bad, bad. When I was asked what I'd like for Christmas, I was either told it was too expensive or given the cheapest possible version of the requested gift. At the same time, my father and stepmother unwrapped gifts long after everyone else had finished opening theirs, and some of them were really expensive. I remember one particular year when I was in college (which I did by working for NYU, which earned me two free classes each term), I asked for an electric typewriter, which I needed desperately for my schoolwork. At the time, university jobs paid way less than the private sector (which is no longer the case), and even the registration fee of $125 that I paid each semester was a hard hit. An electric typewriter cost about $125 at the time, and I was told that it was too expensive. 

When Christmas came around, as usual, we took turns unwrapping our gifts, and again, everyone finished way before Dad and Mary. When she opened her final gift, it was a necklace from Tiffany; I couldn't help looking it up later on, and it cost $800.

I'm not sure if I quit Christmas after that year, or continued on for a year or two, but I did finally announce to my father that I did not feel comfortable celebrating Christmas, and dropped out of the celebration, gifts and dinner. (I did not miss the dinner at all, which my step-aunt prepared; it was small, bland, and included that awful string bean casserole.)

As far as Ben Stein's wanting to put religion back into schools and so on, I say no. Emphatically. I think atheism is a perfectly valid choice, and people who do believe in God should be free to choose their own type and level of religion. You know that they wouldn't be reading the Quran or Torah in schools. I have no doubt that it would be dominated by Christianity. When I was in school, we had a Christmas pageant every year, and sang Christian songs in school chorus. Singing the Christian songs initially jarred me; I actually only mouthed the lyrics that were

As far as spanking children or any kind of physical punishment: no, no. no. Violence only teaches violence.

I find it pretty refreshing to work for a Jewish organization. Not only are you not assumed to be Christian, but no one judges your level of observance, or for being non-Jewish. We have a few non-Jews on staff, but most of the staff is more observant than I am, and mostly Orthodox or raised Orthodox. I'm certainly learning a lot about Judaism and Jewish customs. I don't have to use personal days to take off Rosh Hashonah or Yom Kippur; even with my very low level of observance, I never ever work on the High Holy Days. I'm actually kind of tickled about working on Christmas. (The only "American" holiday we have off is Thanksgiving.) And, I have to say, it's nice being around my own kind. Back in the day, I dated men of pretty much every faith and color (except Asians, just because it never happened), but I married a Jew. There's just a certain kind of familiarity within your own faith, plus I also consider being Jewish my ethnicity. Judaism in unique in being both a faith and an ethnicity; some of us use the abbreviation MOT, for "Member of the Tribe," as in, "She's an MOT, right?" I'm glad to be an MOT. Christmas is not for me.

to begin...

My job had become too difficult and stressful. My duties increased gradually over the nearly three years I was there. Then there was a huge mess earlier this year due to a water main break down the street. We were without phone service for about three weeks, and then without internet for about six weeks. I was using internet from home early in the morning, going into work around 11, leaving around 3:30, then more internet from home. I was practically working 7-7. Once someone suggested that we get a wi-fi hotspot, it improved some, but my desktop didn't take wi-fi so I was working on a laptop and a desktop at the same time. By the time the regular internet was fixed, I was dreadfully behind, and it was one of those spring seasons where there were two major events, two open houses, fall registration to prepare in addition to a lot of catch up.

At the same time, I was seeing a new psychiatrist, who took me off Lamictal and put me on Prozac. I'm not sure how fast Lamictal leaves the system, but I know Prozac takes a while to build up, so I was basically "uncovered" as concerns my depression and anxiety.

So I melted down. It's hard to remember a lot of it, though I was crying at work a lot during the last couple of weeks, then unable to go in at all. My analyst spoke to me by phone every day for a week. As I continued to see the psychiatrist and my meds settled in, I began to feel better, but also realized that 9-5 wasn't for me, never was, and I'd been trying to make myself accustomed to it for years.

I asked if I could return part-time, but they only offered me 14 hours a week, so I chose unemployment instead. I am finally going to find the patience to take better pictures of my jewelry and start an Etsy store, and look for freelance writing work.

In the aftermath, I had some emails from friends at the institute saying they would miss me terribly but also saying they felt I'd been dreadfully overworked. I'd never realized it. One said, "I am very angry with [my two supervisors]. They always overwork and then lose their best people." I hadn't seen it - I just thought that had been the job, and even though I was working flat-out, I was sometimes behind and sometimes very stressed-out.

I worked off a few hours I owed them training the new guy for a few days, but now I'm clear of it. Between that and the meds fully taking hold, I feel a lot better. Freer.

Right before I saw the new psychiatrist, I saw a new primary doctor, who put his foot down about my weight and blood sugar. My blood sugar had been out of control. So I took the whole thing in hand, totally changed the way I was eating, and my sugar is now down to normal, and I've lost about 6 pounds in 8 weeks.

I've changed to Barry's health plan, which was cheaper co-pays, and am beginning the process of a bunch of specialist checkups. Also have to have yet another trigger finger fixed, but it's a thumb, which means just a shot of cortisone and not surgery.

We're shooting to move next month. I'm rather stuck on the idea of living in Bay Ridge.

I apologize that this entry is heavier on news than on feelings, but I'll get caught up on all of it. I feel I have a wealth of time and energy, and being able to keep up with this blog will be one of the benefits.

global transient amnesia

That's what it was. MRI and EEG were clear. Apparently this happens to a lot of people - a blackout of 2-8 hours - and they don't really know why. But it rarely happens more than once.

I managed to keep my mind off work during my vacation, but now it's maybe too much on my mind. Still a busy season, getting the new candidates (eight of them) registered and up to speed. As usual, in the summer, revising lists, overdue evaluations from teachers and supervisors dribbling in, and the usual summer projects (scanning and shredding old files). Not calm yet.

My new intern is a peach: pleasant and willing to work. I'm pleased, as I interviewed and hired her over the phone.

My fandom for Amitabh has cooled a bit. He can be pretty pompous, and very withholding about his present work. Plus he failed to send any good wishes about my health scare, although other EF did. He plays favorites and can be downright boring. His movies are still great, though.

My interest in Twitter is fading a bit, too. Not much time for it.

gardening and MRI

The upside of this vacation week is that our landlord's been away and we've been tending his garden out back. It mainly consists of water the basil, peppers, tomatoes etc every other day - plus any ripe figs are ours! We're easily eating four figs a day each. Nothing quite like fresh figs. The downsiede of gardening is that my legs have gotten all bit up by mosquitoes.

I had my MRI yesterday, which went pretty smoothly, but I  have the waiting part. It'll be at least a week from Monday - the 22rd, as I figure it - before I can see the neurologist again for my results. NOW I'm anxious.

Otherwise it's been a quiet week...mostly broke, as usual.

I'm jumpy and not patient. Not good, all around.

what is wrong with my head?

A couple of weeks ago, I had a blackout. One of our old interns was coming to have lunch with Susan and me, and why I tried to think about it a few days later, I came up with nothing. Couldn't remember Sarah arriving at the office, couldn't remember walking to the restaurant, couldn't remember ordering or eating...none of it. Coupled with the fact that I am having increasing problems remembering past and current items - reaching for words and names a lot - and having experienced from time to time small tremors in my hands and head, I decided it was time to see a neurologist. Which I did on Monday. She did some basic tests and an EEG. She said that such blackouts are commonly associated with migraine (which I do not have), and that it looks as if I don't have Parkinson's. Next up is an MRI, after her office phones me with a code number from my insurance company.

I won't lie - I've been crying a  lot. It is certainly not adding to my enjoyment of this vacation week (apart from the fact that, as usual, we are flat broke). My appetite has been poor. I'd like the MRI over and done with. Then, of course, I have to go to the doctor for results, another $50 bite. There's no getting ahead.

I'm looking to make some jewelry again today. I had to interrupt some earrings I was making because I ran out of headpins. So I'm going to switch gears before I finish that and try some earrings I saw in a beading magazine: a gangling hoop with three wraps of wire, tiny beads on the bottom. Also a Y-necklace.

My general doctor has put me on a new diabetes med - actually, the old one (Januvia) with metformin added. It's done wonders, combined with a better diet. In fact, my sugar actually gets low sometimes. And I've lost about 13 pounds in the past month and a half.

I've rewatched a couple of favorite movies lately. In the best of them, there's always something new to see. The one I most wanted to write about was Boogie Nights, but I don't have the patience quite now.

The stats on this blog continue to make me scratch my head. I still seem to have quite a few readers in Russia, unless people in other countries are using Russian email addresses. It's a mystery. I'm also mystified that so many people seem to be reading an old post called "amal, amat, utz," which may be one of the silliest things I've ever posted.

earworm and brainworm

Today's earworm is not really an earworm - it's that I taught the word to Adnan Sami today and Twitter. Cool beans.

The brainworm is not so cool. I am having some weird memory losses. This past Thursday, Susan Gerritt (from work) and I were supposed to take last summer's intern, Sarah, to lunch. I can't seem to remember the lunch. I can't remember seeing her at all. I'm pretty sure it happened, because I do remember paying for it (it was the first time I'd ever paid in a restaurant with the PPSC card - got permission from Judy, of course). But I can't remember anything else.

I'm also fishing, at times, for some older memories, and I am known for remembering things very well. I also have the short-term blips which are perfectly normal for someone my age. My typing has also gotten a notch worse. And I've noticed occasional tremors in my hands.

I guess the next thing to do is have my primary doctor recommend a neurologist, in a couple of weeks when I have the money. Something is less-than-right upstairs, I think. (The answer is yes, scared shitless.)

Love my new primary doctor. Most of the lab tests are done in his office, which is very efficient, and he spend a lot of time with me. Tweaked my meds a little and explained everything. And by the way, I dropped 13 pounds in a month. (Answer: salad, lean protein, Greek yogurt, a little fruit, and just plain eating smaller amounts.)

Volunteering at the Mermaid Parade was a bust. I was supposed to sell merchandise - there were going to be three booths with four people each. Was sent to an area to wait and waited for an hour and a half with two other merchandise volunteers. No one knew anything - staff members radioed in but got no answers. Finally, someone said they thought they weren't doing merchandise after all. This was after months of emails and a meeting on Friday night. So I walked the ten blocks back to the volunteer registration area, and they kind of said, oops, there was a problem, and that was it. Of course, by that time it was too late to get a good spot to watch the Parade. I tried to watch some, but was pretty beat after sitting in the heat all that time. Bummer.

bad fingers and Bol Bachchan

Amitabh shows how it's done, in the title song from Bol Bachchan. The young man with the mustache is Ajay Devyn and the cleanshaven young man is Junior Bachchan, Abhishek.

I have a bad trigger finger and a not-so-bad trigger finger, and it's back to Dr. Patel for me on Monday. If you weren't around for last year's trigger finger here's what it's all about. So it's either going to be a shot of cortisone. or what I had done last year:

"Percutaneous trigger finger release:  Trigger finger release can be performed in the office under local anesthesia using a percutaneous technique.  Numbing medicine is injected in the hand near the base of the finger.  A larger needle is then placed through the numb area and is used to divide the pulley that is causing the triggering.  Advantages of this procedure include that it can be done in the office and does not require an incision.  The main disadvantage is that the surgeon cannot see the pulley or nearby nerve and there is a possible higher risk of injury to the nerves or an incomplete release.  While these complications are unlikely, patient should take them into account when choosing to have a procedure."

It's gonna hurt like hell if he has to do this again, especially on two fingers. I remember being in howling pain the day after. The bad one is the right-hand pinkie, and PTFR is usually done one the middle three fingers. The not-yet-as-bad one is the left-hand ring finger, so it may be a wait-and-see, or a PTFR. And if I have the surgery, there's physical therapy after, for maybe six weeks.

So I may be very limited as far as using the computer, although of course I'll have to at work.  Send good thoughts for a nice needle full of cortisone.

Recent reading: The Leftovers by Tom Perotta. Surburban folks try to get along after a Rapture-like event. Love the way he writes, and the post-Cheever look at surburbia. See also, his Little Children.

Somehow, I hopped into another post-apocalyptic novel right after, Stephen King's Cell. Just started it, and it's pretty much as un-put-down-able as most King books. I am an unabashed fan.

Too much to write about with hurting fingers: out in Yardley with Jannah last weekend, Saturday night party on her boat (six boats all tied up together), and then slept on the boat. The whole deal was kind of like camping but less grubby. Relaxing by the pool on Sunday, parade on Monday. I dearly love the Memorial Day parade in Yardley...I hate to use the word "quaint," which it isn't, quite, hut it very old-fashioned and I look forward to it every day - I've been going there for Memorial Day the past 4-5 years.

Very hard, busy season at work, what with classes ending, getting evaluations from teacher, updating transcripts, trying to get a second summer intern, overseeing registration, orienting new faculty, etc. If I must say so myself, I've been coming through like a champ, but I'm seriously exhausted. Part of me (no lie) is kind of hoping to spend Tuesday in bed, on painkillers.

I'm having a really good time on Twitter, especially when I get replies from (can't deny it) well-known people. This past week: Raghu Dixit and Adnan Sami. Both good dudes, and Raghu is supposed to come to the US in the fall. I also have a little joke-topping thing with @Disalmanic, who is a damn funny guy.

lyrics and nail polish

And before lyrics and nail polish: due to yet another trigger finger, my blogging may be somewhat limited until I can have something done for it. I had one treated maybe eight months ago or so, and I seem to have two more, although one is much worse. I had something called a percutaneous trigger finger release and physical therapy last time, but maybe I can just get a shot of steroid for this one. It's hurting a lot, and I really don't want my hand laid up for as long as it was last time. I'm seeing my primary doctor on Monday.

V. used to say that he could never consider a song to be good if he didn't like the lyrics as well as the music. I think I've decided to disagree. The sung party of a song has its own rhythm and (often) melody line that can be quite lovely even if the lyrics are ordinary...or even, say, in a foreign language one doesn't understand (see what I'm doing, here?). So I'm breaking with V. on that one.

Even though I gave up being a big slob a couple of years ago, and pay a lot of attention to my clothes, accessories, makeup, etc., I am WAY far from being a follower of fashion. Can't wear and don't like most of it. On the other hand, I do seem to be oddly tuned-in to color and style. And somehow, even though I've had ugly, plain, picked-at nails for most of my life, now that my nails are neat and polished, I have somehow plugged into the nail color cycle. All of a sudden, I'll start thinking about a color I must wear, and then I realize that women all around are starting to wear the exact same color. This changes two or three times a month. Today I put on a slightly greyish light blue, like a stormy sky, and it is just perfect. Orange was perfect last week, and a light mint-green the week before. I still have a sort of shamrock green on my toes. So glad it's spring.

My jewelry color sense is still somewhat hooked to the seasons, but I'm going to have to wait and see when I can start making jewelry again, because my hands are not up to it now. Sigh.

the question of congestion, and goodbye to Stanley

I'm home (8:41 AM) and will most probably be here all day.  I have something that is either a bad cold or the worst possible allergies, but allergy mes are not helping and it's been getting worse since Monday,  I can't stop coughing, sneezing, or blowing my nose.  I've e-mailed my intern and hope she can man the ship today; I can access office email at home, but I'm waiting to hear from Sarah.  I hope she checks e-mail before she goes to work (she usually starts at 10:00).

And I must say -- coming home last night was extra-miserable.  It rained, but since this was not in the forecast, I had no umbrella.  So I got drenched between work and the subway, and then got on one of those extra-freezingly-air-conditioned trains.  So I shivered, coughed, sneezed, and blew my nose the whole way home.  Still, I did finish that Preston/Childs books, and started The Strain by Gullermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan.  (Now Blogger feels like doing italics -- not bad.  Couldn't get a bold or underline to save my life some days back, but of course my text wasn't posting, so it didn't make much difference.)  I'll let you know if it's any good.  I may go back to Preston/Childs after that.

I went to Saint Ann's School for ten years, second grade through the end of high school, which was a school for gifted children -- fairly dysfunctional back then, better now.  It is in fact a highly regarded private (not religious) school at this time.  When I started in 1965, it had 63 students and was very experimental.  (The school was housed in the undercroft of St. Ann's Church for its first couple of years, which is why it has a religious-school sounding name.  You can't imagine how many times during my life I've had to explain that -- although these days, at least in NYC, the school is well-known enough that people actually know what it is.)

Over the past 20 years, until five years or so ago, when I mentioned Saint Ann's to parent-age New Yorkers, they say something like, "oh, with that guy..."  "That guy" was founder and headmaster Stanley Bosworth, who died three days ago.  The linked article pretty much says it all.  Stanley was brilliant and maddening and inappropriate.  He never hit on me, before or after school, but Beth Bosworth, "wife number three" as he referred to her in the article, was in my graduating class. Ewww!  To me, he was warm, difficult, and confusing.  And he pissed me off a few times.  But the bottom line is that he created a really amazing school, where I had some amazing teachers and amazing peers.  I was a bit of a social misfit when I was there, but have since become reacquainted with a lot of former alumni via Facebook, and I love almost all of them.  And just for that, if nothing else, I must be ever-grateful to Stanley.  As much as we in the Facebook St. Ann's Alumni and Faculty have bashed him and told bad-Stanley stories, there's a lot of grief there today.

hoo-ray!

Seems like Medicaid has granted us an extension until the end of September.  Not only does this buy us more time with current treatments, but it will give me a while to make new arrangements with my job. 

I just had my last OT (for now) for my trigger finger:  6 in all.  I see the hand doctor again a week from today, and then I'll see if I need more OT.  I like my OT guy a lot; he's very sweet and very straightforward.  Caring, too.  I like the new psychiatrist.  After I get my bloodwork done, and if my main doctor OKs it, I'm going back to the GYN to see if I can get that hormone replacement therapy.  My hair is getting thin and my skin is beginning to wrinkle...not to the point where anyone but me notices, but I'd like to keep it that way.  No mas.

Of course, the biggest Medicaid benefit is that Barry is going to get dentures.  His teeth have always been bad, and he's lost and broken quite a few since we met.  The dentist has now pulled all that he needs to pull, and is waiting on approval to start measuring for the dentures.  I'm getting a couple of cavities filled, and have had x-rays and a cleaning, but Medicaid won't cover a bridge or a cap.  at least the missing tooth isn't in front.

I've been helping out with the admissions committee at work -- I help all the committees, but I've worked very closely with admissions.  So they gave me a nice card and a box of Godiva chocolate.  I won't eat it all, but I will eat a few.  I've been excellent about sugar and carbs...and besides, this is work-related .

dizzy

The good news is that the psychiatrist had pretty much the same idea I had, and doubled my dosages of lamotrigine and lorazepam.  The bad news is that the increased dose of lamotrigine is making me dizzy.  This is apparently a normal and not harmful side effect -- I just have to avoid operating heavy machinery.  So I guess I won't be able to drive a huge truck alongside the ice road truckers.  I'll just have to watch them on TV.

We're sort of racing the clock on doctors' appointments -- we recently had to fill out and return a form with our current income for a reassessment of our healthcare benefits.  It was due June 10, so I think we'll be losing Medicaid pretty soon. My boss has promised (in writing) to provide healthcare once I lose Medicaid, but who knows if I'll end up with such an inclusive plan.

I'm still reading the Ruth Reichl book, but coming to the end.  I'm thinking about another non-fiction book afterward, one I haven't read.  I recently download a book about the history of Chinese restaurants and Americanized "Chinese" food in the U.S., so that might be the one.

sucks to be me today

I got laid off.  Business was bad.  I heard eight of the factory staff were also losing their jobs.  There were a handful of people I felt really close to, and it was sad to say goodbye to them.  As much as I enjoyed the three women with whom I worked closely, there were also a few in the design rooms and the factory who were lovely and a great help to me.  The design and factory women were all native Spanish speakers, and spoke English in varying degrees (like me with Spanish, they understood more than we spoke).  When in doubt, we smiled a lot.  I hope to stay in touch with Marisa, who was probably my best friend there.  She works with off-price designs and knows her rocks.  She's closer to my age than any of the women in administration (I think the next oldest woman in admin is 34), speaks good English, is from Argentina, and has a very lovely personality.  I stopped by almost every time I was in the factory, but since her station was right there, I usually couldn't hang out too long.  Ana and Soledad in the production design room and Monica in the one-of-a-kind design room were great, and Marisol and Margarita in the factory.  And Lupe in QC.  Lupe was the only person there who ever asked me to make her a piece of jewelry -- I think Marisa must have told her that I made jewelry, because I didn't talk about it that much.  Lupe said that she loved purple and had no purple earrings -- could I make some for her?  Lupe wears big earrings, often wide, so I did a kind of clustery thing with a lot of wire-wraps around a chain, amethyst chips and oval beads, and then I threw in some tiny Swarovskis, 4mm smoked topaz AB2X, which for some reason threw off purples and worked beautifully.  I just gave them to her this week but never got to see her wear them.

I e-mailed my favorite local vendors to tell them I was leaving and to let me know if any jobs ever opened up.  Ironically, I saw four of my vendors this morning, when I went into Manhattan to source some beads.  I would love to work for any of them, especially Wonder, whose store (wholesale only) is very beautiful and classy, a lot of glass and very tidy displays, and a tank with two decorative goldfish.  It's kind of like a temple of beads, and the guy I worked with there, Tenpa, was lovely.

(Of course, I'll be putting in a lot of job-hunting work:  Craigslist, employers' websites, employment agencies and temp agencies, and I've heard that Linked-In is useful.)

Also, I have to say that Edmond handled letting me go in a classy manner.  I've been fired mean and fired nice, and he was very kind.  He made a point of saying that they loved my work and that I was well-liked and had caught on fast, and would give me a glowing recommendation.  Stephen also said some very nice things to me.  Stephen was not always the easiest guy to work with, but he was basically very nice and we shared a lot of tastes and got on pretty well, for the most part.  It wasn't fun when he was unhappy, but we did like each other.

So I had just a few hours to show Heidi, for the most part, how to do the bead end of my job (Jess will probably take the in-house computer program stuff), and updated her on everything that was outstanding or in process.  Heidi already handles all the stones, but she's going to be seriously overloaded.  She generally works with three or four vendors, but the bead vendors will add about ten more.

Of course, the biggest problems are mine.  Barry's unemployment benefits run out in a month, and I don't qualify for any (I have to work six months within a year to get benefits again).  I have this week's paycheck and next week's paycheck and about 5K in my 401(k), and that's it.  We have no health insurance.  In December, unemployment benefits were stopped for a couple of weeks while congress considered the tax bill.  We considered that our finances would be much better off without the $500 insurance bill.  The plan was for me to be on company insurance as of February 1, and we would buy inexpensive insurance for Barry which we would pay in January, to start in February.  I never officially learned what my health insurance plan would be (my 90 days would have been this coming Saturday).  Someone told me that she got individual health coverage for free, but couldn't add anyone else to the plan.  But she also said she wasn't sure that this was still the deal, and she was higher up in admin than me.  I was counting on it being free or cheap, only for me, and that I would be able to get on February 1.

We kept the pharmacy portion of our insurance plan (which was a crappy plan that basically pulled together a medical plan, pharmacy plan, and I'm not sure what else, a crappy vision plan and/or a crappy dental plan).  We were figuring/hoping that our prescriptions would be the bulk of our January medical expenses.  $50 a month means we can keep getting most of our generics under ten bucks, and most of what we use is generic.

Speaking of health, I had my periodic bloodwork done at my doctor's request, and he found my liver enzymes alarmingly high.  I know that they go up when I gain weight, but I hadn't gained any weight for about a year, and he said he'd never seen those readings so high.  I do have a fatty liver (grosses me out just to think about it), but again, that wouldn't have raised the levels.  The doctor thinks it's probably one of my medications, maybe the metformin (which is for the diabetes).  Anyway, he wanted to do the test again, which we tried to schedule before the end of December, but a blizzard intervened.  (We had, I dunno, a few feet of snow.  My office was closed last week on Monday and Tuesday -- I showed up on Tuesday, along with four others, and even though we all turned around and went home, the five of us got paid for the day, no one else.  And no one got paid for Monday.  But we were asked to come in on Friday because we were behind on inventory, so I actually got paid for the usual five days.

So I didn't get the blood test before the end of the year, and I asked Barry (who has been unbelievably great with errands and phone calls since I've been working) to call the doctor and find out the name of the test, then call the lab to see what it would cost to pay for that test out of pocket.  But the doctor said he could take the blood at his office, and get the test done at a very low price.  He even put the fee for the visit on a tab (though he only charges $40 for non-insured patients), plus he's been giving Barry heaps of Crestor samples, since that's one of our few non-generic drugs.

Here's what else can cause high liver enzymes besides overweight or medication:  jaundice, Hep A, B and C; cirrhosis (sp?) of the liver.  Cancer.  Guess which one I'm afraid of, since I don't have any of the Heps, I'm not turning yellow, and I haven't had a drink since 1986?  The truth is that my body doesn't feel quite right, I'm forgetting a lot of stuff, my hand was trembling when I was working on some jewelry the other day, and I've been unusually clumsy (knocking things over and bumping into things).  I'm hoping these are maybe just signs of the liver enzymes.  But I'm basically not feeling too optimistic about my health.  (P.S.  I checked dictionary.com, and I actually did spell "cirrhosis" correctly.  I guess I haven't lost my spelling skills.)

OK, let's perk things up just a tad with a really cool klezmer/hip-hop video.  The David Krakauer, the klez guy (playing clarinet), is the brother of an old and dear friend of Robin's.  This is a very different sound and somehow it works.



Tweet, tweet, gang.