Fuck This Fucking Blog

That about sums it up, eh?

It's crazy. I used to love this place and now I just think it sucks. All I do is spew bile and there's no fun in that. There were actually a couple of posts between this one and the last, but I never published them since they were just vile and better left unread by anyone. Including me.

Anyhow. I have a new roof on my house AND garage and a new patio slider door and front door on my house, all told coming to somewhere in the vicinity of $10,000. It was totally worth it, though. Now I can actually heat the house in the winter instead of heating the outdoors and scooping snow off my floor that came in around the door--not THROUGH the door, AROUND the door frame. Yeah. Nice, huh?

My dad built this house in 1979. Nearly everything used in its construction was the cheapest that could be had, including a lot of the lumber coming from an old church (my mom swore the house was haunted with the ghosts of those whose funerals were held in that church, but I look at it that my house has God's own blessing on it). He once told me he built the whole house for about $10,000. The whole house built 30 years ago for what it cost me just for a new fucking roof and some doors. It's not hard to believe, though, considering he used odd-size doors and windows (which of course are no longer manufactured so you can see the problem I have now that I need to replace them????? CAN YOU SAY "SPECIAL ORDER"?????), 3/8" drywall instead of 1/2", and drop-tile ceilings IN EVERY ROOM (STYROFOAM tiles in the basement--I'm not shitting, they really were). He hung cedar siding and stained it this shitty rust-colored brown (it's fucking ugly, trust me) and then never took care of it so it's gone beyond "weathered" to just plain nasty and looks even shittier now sitting under that new roof, so that's my next project when I grow a new arm and leg to saw off in order to pay for it. The biggest relief came in replacing that patio slider, which never had a screen door and no way to install one on the frame and, hence, no way to take advantage of the cool night air unless you want to be eaten by 4,326,782 mosquitoes the size of 747's.

We grow 'em big here in Michigan. Don't let them try to fool you with that "The robin is the state bird" bullshit. Our state bird is the Anopheles quadrimaculatus.

But, again, I digress. After 30 years of Michigan weather with little to no maintenance, my house was in rough shape when I got it after dad built himself a new house (using GOOD shit, of course). And ugly. I hate ugly. I've tried hard to remedy that. That new front door alone set me back close to $1500, BUT IT'S SO PURTY!

The crew that did my roof and doors didn't fuck around. They tore off the old shit, did repairs, and re-shingled the house AND the garage and hung new doors in three days.

Three fucking days. I almost shit my pants.

DH has been "remodeling" the inside of the house for 6-1/2 YEARS and there's not even ONE FUCKING ROOM completely done--and it's not for lack of materials since the garage is so full of shit I've bought for the house that you can't even park the car in the goddamn thing. I don't expect it to ever get done unless I hire those guys to come back and finish it--without FUCKING IT UP and then blaming it on me.

Conquering the Beast - Part II

OK. So here's what happened. Amidst all the grinding and clanking inside my head, bells and whistles started going off. I was in an entirely different type of search mode when I pulled up a new Google window, exercising my mental, mechanical, and "electronical" prowess.

I wanted one I could get my hands on immediately, but the one at Radio Shack looked shitty. Best Buy didn't sell the kind I needed. I finally came across one at Circuit City, exactly what I had in mind, and the Saginaw store is only an hour's drive from here so I ordered it for pickup in the store. I bought a USB external hard drive.

I brought it home and gutted the HDD from my Pavilion (hence, the transplant), installed it in the external drive, and hooked it up to my husband's computer - AND THERE WAS ALL MY SHIT!

I am so amazing, I should be patented or something. I figured that one out all on my own, after the "experts" said "too bad."

Although I ordered a PC last Friday, it won't be ready until Wednesday and I need to work NOW, so I informed DH that I was appropriating his computer in the meantime. Of course, he was pissed (because I'd have access to his "personal" things he hides from me, like chats with his "girlfriend." OH.OH.OH. Aside: Last week he tells her that I am "shorty life," to which she responded, "I'm sorry" {since when does the "girlfriend" of a cheating "husband" feel sorry that his wife is dying???} and he said "I don't need pity," which then prompted her to tell him how brave he was - I'm the one who's fucking dying but HE'S the one who's brave????? What-the-fuck-ever!!!). He was even more pissed when I said I wanted the tower brought down to my office from the upstairs bedroom where he had it, arguing with me about it, even though there's no regular fucking phone line up there for me to hook up my OTHER job's equipment, only the ethernet cable, and I need both.

So he brings it down and - strangely - the NIC won't work, so I can't get internet access to do my fucking work anyhow. And of course, "What did you do to my computer?" even though 'twas not I who unhooked and moved it.

Conquering the Beast

My closest friend of the past 6 years has passed from this realm to the next, leaving me bereft and suffering. We spent so much time together, it was as though we'd become one, inseparable as that piece of duct tape that gets folded over onto itself after you rip it off the roll. I knew my friend inside and out, doing my best to help when a virus struck and dancing with glee with recovery, all the while -naively - expecting the relationship to last. The passing was so sudden, so unexpected, I was left stunned and alternating between tears of grief and rage, finally moved beyond devastation by the transplant gift that had been left behind.

July 24, 2008 - Rest in Peace

HP Pavilion 310n

You were a good computer.

Cause of death? The decision (whether made by Hewlett-Packard or by Microsoft, I know not), to load XP System Recovery software on the hard drive instead of giving you a FUCKING DISK like they used to (you want a disk, you gotta pay for it, even though you technically already paid for it when you bought the computer).

System Recovery and its related shit is stored in a protected partition on the hard drive, and no software CDs of any kind, including the OS, were included when I bought the computer NEW from Best Buy. The files are right there and CDs cost too much and blah blah blah (the bullshit I was fed the first time I used this function a couple of years ago, by some dough-head at HP). Fine in theory, but what happens when your OS becomes corrupted and you cannot access that function, even in Safe Mode?

In April, I was moaning about my computer being slow and locking up all the time, supposedly because I didn't have enough RAM (annoying little pop-up system messages told me so), so I went and got some more RAM: $60 for 2 cards to the PC's maximum capacity of 512 MB. Yes, I spent that much money on a 6-year-old computer. I was so amazed at how much faster it was after that, I could have kicked myself in the head for not having upgraded years ago.

The all-gooey-inside feeling didn't last long, though.

I started getting system pop-ups again, I checked and found that my system was only running 256 instead of 512. I don't know why this happened, but I thought about calling Centon about a replacement (lifetime warranty!!!). Unfortunately, I was working (and it was the middle of the night), so I started up my Sony Digital Voice Editor, but it wouldn't do anything. Task Manager showed it "not responding." This happened once before and I just had to uninstall and reinstall it, so I tried that. It still didn't work. I didn't get too worked up at that point, knowing all was well and good in the weeks prior and I could roll the PC back to a restore point.

Wrong.

System Restore chose not to cooperate, so I tried System Recovery. I've used this function twice since I bought the PC, both times using the Big Daddy and completely reformatting the user partition and starting from scratch. This actually takes a lot of convincing on your part (ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS? ALL DATA WILL BE LOST - no shit, Sherlock), but this time I was not having the problems I had before and chose the "nondestructive" recovery, which claimed it would not harm my files and other software. Click. Click. Click. It starts its thing and I twiddle my thumbs for 30 minutes.

Time to reboot. No problem. HP and Windows screens. The famous chimes that cry at startup. Then.... the HP registration screen? Ummm. OK. It's already filled out with the junk from before, so I click "Next" and move on. Finally, up comes the sound card test screen, where you tell the system whether or not you hear sound. I hear no sound, but the little asshole in the sweater doesn't give me any help in figuring out the problem. Instead, he opened his virtual "door" and left my screen. Prick. I'll work it out later, I think, and clicked "Next" one more time.

That was the last "Next" my Pavilion ever saw in its life.

The computer froze. Not a component was stirring, not even the mouse. After about 20 minutes of cussing, I killed it at the switch. When restarting, the Windows screen loaded and waited, then went black. After a few minutes, there's a pop-up telling me that I had an LSASS.EXE SYSTEM ERROR, when trying to update the password, the return status indicates that the password is not correct.... then suddenly it shuts down and restarts. Again and again. I hit F8 to get into Safe Mode, but it was the same error, as it was with LNG. It would have looped like this for all of eternity had I let it, but I had mercy enough to pull the plug.

NOW what the fuck do I do? My work's on there. My photos are on there. ALL OF MY SPREADSHEETS are on there.

I got onto another PC, furiously searching the web for an answer. There's 800 million tech forums out there, someone's got to have an answer; I know I'm not the first person this has happened to. I was right, and multiple people had posted on multiple forums about THE EXACT SAME ISSUE: lsass.exe system error, password, blah blah blah, and no CD issued. Those responding on these forums were OH.SO.HELPFUL. Most instantly threw out "Sasser virus" as the answer with a link to get rid of it, obviously not understanding the exact nature of the problem; after all, how are you going to click the link if you can't even boot the system? One wiseguy, seeing that there was no CD and snickering behind his hands, only asked "Who'd you pirate XP from?" without giving any kind of answer. Knowledgeable AND helpful. Another popular one was "XP failure, use your CD and reinstall." How do I fix it if I don't have a startup CD because THEY DID NOT ISSUE ONE WITH THE PC? Answer: Do a System Recovery. Yeah, that's helpful, seeing as how THE OS HAS TO FINISH LOADING TO BE ABLE TO DO THAT and since that's what's not working....

OH.MY.GOD.

I can deal with the fact that my computer died and I have to replace it, but my primary concern was all the stuff I had on there - photos of my kids, the only IRREPLACEABLE things on the computer - that had not been backed up yet and how do I get it off the disk? Again, the forums were oh-so-helpful in answering that question, too. Most just responded with some variation of "Too bad, the computer's screwed and so are you." Others suggested using (and paying through the nose for ) a data recovery service.

I was on my own. As usual. But I had little gears grinding hard inside my head.

I changed tacks, looking at stuff kind of related "around the edges" of my problem. Eventually I came across some information that, in a flash of clarity, made me realize those dudes on the tech forums just talk to hear the sound of their own voices (or to see their avatar proudly displayed as though it conveys some type of authority in the world of silicone and ether), imparting advice upon the desperate and the ignorant, all the while ignoring the single most important lesson ever taught in the history of mankind:

2 + 2 = 4

If the problem is the OPERATING SYSTEM, why is my data "screwed"? These are separate beasts prowling in jungles on separate continents, so to speak. And why do I need to pay for data recovery when the data files should not be corrupted, just because the OS files are? (And why can't Microsoft give you a motherfucking C: prompt when XP is installed on your system so you can fix the problem yourself, those dirty bastards!)

I conquered the beast. I'll tell you how, but next time. This post is too long.

To Flare Or Not To Flare

I love my neurologist dearly. She's one of only about 4 doctors I would (and have) trust with my life. But I think she's dead wrong on two counts:

1. She can't find any quick and SOLID proof that there is something else going on with me than just MS that is slowly but surely eating my life away from the inside out.
2. She's diagnosed me as remitting/relapsing MS even though I have never had any clear-cut "remission" of symptoms nor even any clear-cut "flares" for that matter, other than the bout of optic neuritis last summer.

Until now.

When the shit hit the fan with my body a couple of years ago, it started as a slight weakness in my right arm and leg. It was nothing that affected my life in any way, shape, or form other than being an irritation and a "subjective feeling" of being weak when my examination and testing routinely came back normal, with the exception of the times I've had "reactivation mono," which is essentially - and most people don't know this until they're afflicted - the Epstein-Barr virus you contracted in high school comes back to haunt you. There are markers in your blood that show you've had the virus, and some of those titers will never go away, ever, because you DID have it. Others of these markers go up and down, indicating a reactivation of the virus in your system.

**Quick aside here: It's fascinating to me that EBV has long been considered a culprit in the pathogenesis of MS, that it can reactivate at any time, particularly when ill or stressed, etc. (the exact same factors that can exacerbate an MS flare).

Anyhow, 1 year 11 months ago (dear Lord, has that much of my life been eaten up by this disease already???) I developed SUDDEN onset of PROFOUND weakness on my entire right side, which progressed over the next few days to include my entire left side and then started moving up to begin compromising not only my facial muscles - I developed facial droop highly suspicious for stroke or at least Bell's palsy and could neither eat nor drink for days, yet my doctor couldn't get me in any quicker than 2 weeks and ER doctors had previously dismissed me as a fake - and eventually my muscles of breathing and bowel and bladder function.

I was FUBAR'd for about a week and a half. Of course, by the time I got in to see my primary doctor, most of it had resolved except for the right-sided weakness, which was dismissed as "stress" and would best be treated under the care of a psychiatrist. (Yeah, she went there. And bought property. That's why I don't see their office anymore.) After that, I was pretty consistent until last July when the optic neuritis destroyed the vision in my right eye, eventually leading to my diagnosis of MS. All this time, though, I never had a "remission" as is defined by those who define such measures (usually for insurance billing purposes). After the optic neuritis, though, I started declining - gradually - and never having an acute "flare" (proven by MRI scans that no new active lesions were identified) but continuing to become progressively weaker and more fatigued and confused and depressed and at times maybe even clinically diagnosable as psychotic. But I was still classified as RRMS instead of - what in my opinion should be - secondary progressive MS or perhaps even primary progressive.

MS does not define me as a person, but it's a really big fucking irritation. I've tried to be all "yeah, whatever" about this whole thing, accepting and dealing with it and moving on with my life and all that happy horseshit. I ain't playing that game anymore, though. After only 23 short months, I am ready to take my marbles out of the circle and stop playing - and kick sand over the circle just because I'm pissed off about losing.

I had another of my epiphanies on life, the universe, and everything. It came yesterday, Saturday morning, after my dad came to my house to make sure I was up for work on time and found me on the floor of my office, unconscious and unresponsive. The pisser of it was, he actually walked in on the SECOND episode. I woke up around 7 a.m. with a massive Charley in my left calf that wouldn't let go and got up to put some Ben-Gay on my leg. As I was reaching up to put the tube back on top of my desk so the kids couldn't get it, I passed out and fell on the floor. I came to a little while later to my daughter sitting on the floor next to me, laying on my face and crying because I was someplace she knew I should not be and not responding. But I couldn't getup. Nothing worked right. I've been constantly dizzy (like 100% of the time, even moving my eyes in my head makes me keel over) for about a week now and even when I did finally get my arm and legs to obey in some fashion and tried to get up, the dizziness decided to call in unconsciousness for backup to keep me on the floor. Eventually I was able to speak and tell dad "no" when asked if I wanted an ambulance. He woke DH up, who saw me on the floor and started screaming, which scared my daughter even more, but he picked me - in all my bulk, even though I weigh as much as he does or more - off the floor.

I was fucked for the rest of the day. I'm still fucked. I always knew I was not long meant for this world, but I can say now that I see the end in sight and it really pisses me off. It pisses me off about losing and it pisses me off about giving up.

But maybe now someone (in the medical profession) will listen to me when I tell them something is wrong.

Unhealthy Obsession

I realized just now, at 6:41 a.m. on July 17, 2008, that I have an unhealthy obsession with data in general and the organization of data in particular.

I feel an overwhelming need to put everything in Excel. I think I would die if I didn't have access to it. Well, probably not DIE, but at least have a really big hole in the middle of my entity where Excel belongs.

My budget and bills and many other records are all neatly organized in Excel spreadsheets, each month its own separate sheet within the workbook, columns and rows keeping everything organized, colors and fonts to draw focus where needed, everything in order right down to the last comma and dollar sign.

I created a continuous yearly calendar with a section for notes for the month, each date consisting of two rows and one column, borders and numbering in place. It's easy to copy over to the next year, tweak a couple of formulas, and keep it going to the following year. I fiddled with the fonts and justification to make it aesthetically pleasing, but I didn't use any colors this time. Regardless, it's truly a work of art.

I used to do all of my billing and invoices for my independent contracting business in Word. They were neat and orderly, receiving a face lift now and then with font changes and lines and anything else I could use to make it stand out, distinguish it from the 40,572 other papers sitting on the doctor's desk, so he would remember to pay me. They served me well for more than 10 years, until earlier this year when I just couldn't resist the urge anymore: I was tired of adding lines manually on a calculator billing took forever doing it that way, the more accounts I worked (besides the fact that one of the kids stole my $65 printing calculator left over from my college accounting program days). Why am I torturing myself when Excel will do the work for me!?!? At first, I created billing sheets for each doctor and attached it to the invoice (with a note in the "details" pointing to the Excel data, of course!). Then recently I started sneaking copy-and-paste Excel tables into the invoices, to keep it all on one page and reduce the number of trees I contributed to murdering. Finally, I gave up and generated the entire invoice in Excel. Even that process has morphed recently, each invoice as a separate file now each DOCTOR as a separate "book" with each INVOICE a separate page within. Instead of hundreds of files in dozens of folders and subfolders, I now have 6 files - period.

The depths of my obsession should have become apparent when I made a "camping checklist" (I ranted about my camping stuff before) before my vacation recently so DH wouldn't forget things, said list proceeding immediately from his fingertips into the trashcan. "I know how to pack, I'm not stupid." Columns dividing gear, clothing, food, etc.

In retrospect, I can see that this isn't a new issue like my memory problems, something I can readily attribute to cognitive or psychiatric consequences of MS. In cleaning up my computer files - the time during which I decided to streamline the doc's accounting processes - I notice that I've been sneaking Excel worksheets into my life for years.

When You-Know-Who started bitching and moaning that I wasn't sending "her" money to her and filed a contempt motion against us for violation of the custody orders, I started a log: Each month I cut her a check for 1/2 of the girls' Social Security benefits received and recorded the date, amount, check number, and any amount she indicated to me (in writing!!!) to deduct, like 1/2 of their school lunch costs. After she cashed each check, I entered the date cleared by my bank.

Some dickweed keeps leaving my DVDs lying around, since putting them away when they're finished with them would be too easy, and many are lost, broken, or deeply scratched; another dickweed borrows them without asking then sells them on eBay. I have a list of all of the DVDs I've bought, separated into genre, with a column for those that are missing. (This was part of a document for my house insurance listing everything I owned, something about it being a cost of replacement policy.)

I didn't have the time or inclination to go buy real blueprint paper, so I made a grid to "blueprint" my staircases, each square representing 1 inch.

With the second FT job I worked a while back, I kept a workbook with each pay period - you guessed it - on a separate sheet with days, times in/out, and lines transcribed. We didn't have a "time clock" to punch, but we had to enter all of that into the time card at the end of the pay period. My time sheet book had formulas to calculate daily hours worked, lines per hour, downtime, and gross earnings. I have another that I made for my current job, when they wanted me to start documenting what I was doing each and every minute of my 8-hour shift every day (a story for another day).

I haven't gotten a notice yet on my 2008-2009 federal student loan interest rate and monthly payment amounts, but I have a spreadsheet to enter them into when I do, tracking the 10-year trend of this information, complete with the change in each from year to year since I went into repayment.

When I was working 2 full-time jobs and 1 part-time job, classically "employed" at 3 different companies, AND self-employed as an independent contractor for between 3 and 6 doctors across 4 different accounts, I made a schedule to plan my time, columns Monday through Sunday, time in 24 rows of 1-hour blocks, midnight to midnight. Each job was color coded, so I knew what I should be doing at any given time, when I could schedule a doctor's appointment and even when I could sleep.

The fuse box in our house had something not quite right going on with it. Although my office had been split across 2 breakers and the kitchen had been split across an additional 2 breakers (high usage areas, to prevent tripping the breaker), every time someone would turn on the microwave in the kitchen at the other end of the house, the whole kitchen and one side of my office would blow. We needed to map out the fuse box to see which breakers controlled each area of the house, since things got kind of buggered during the remodeling, so I made a chart.

There are no depths to which I will not stoop in order to create an Excel worksheet for something, but I can't organize my desk to save my life. Whenever I need an ink pen, I have to sift through a mountain of papers, which curiously are often hard copies documenting my passion for data organization, even though I have filing cabinets. Filing doesn't involve using Excel, so it doesn't interest me.

If There's a Way to Screw You

Some overpaid and otherwise completely useless dickwad in The Michigan Government is gonna find and exploit it, and probably thoroughly enjoy the experience.

Want a job? Too bad, move to another state (or the country to which your last job was outsourced). I've already ranted about the atrocious unemployment rate here in Michigan (highest in the nation and far above the national average since like 2001, I believe), and companies continue to flee. We hear "It's okay, we don't need industry/manufacturing. We have TOURISM." (Support 10 million people on tourism? In someone's overworked imagination that might work, if tourists are only non-residents willing to throw money at us, but there's a bit of a problem when the tourists are RESIDENTS [think trickle-down here]. Does that mean you have no business enjoying your own state since it won't generate external revenues, so FUCK OFF and stay home?) Dandy. Then the other day someone was telling me about new "tourism taxes" going to go into effect (surcharges on motel rooms, etc.). Now that we've driven off industry with the Mighty Upraised Middle Finger, it's time to turn it on tourism, too.

But I digress. Besides taxing us more here on things like gasoline and cigarettes, etc., than our surrounding states' residents pay, the bullshit has now extended to our CELL PHONE SERVICE. Forever, my Alltel bill was about $56 a month. This month it's over $58.

??????????

On the last page of the bill (in itty-bitty letters, of course): ATTENTION MICHIGAN RESIDENTS. A surcharge for E-911 (which I could have sworn I was already paying for, so now I gotta root through a stack of papers dating back to 2004 when I got the stupid thing) is being assessed on our monthly bill, varying by county. Of course, MY county happens to charge the second-highest rate: $2.12 per month.

I don't use my cell phone for 911. I use my REGULAR PHONE, on which I also pay for E-911, so now I get double-poked and for something I don't even use?

They raised our state income taxes, expanded the sales tax, and done other shit I'm not even gonna touch on cuz it would probably give me a brain aneurysm, so I have to ask, WHAT'S NEXT?

On the high side, I did happen to exploit that "tourism" factor a bit last week, in Michigan's Upper Peninsula and in the Lower Peninsula's northern wonderlands. I have TONS of great pictures, as soon as I get off my ass and get them downloaded from my camera. . .

Another Hmmmmm.........

My right arm weakness has progressed and regressed and progressed some more, each time leaving me with less function to the point where now my arm is basically useless. Trying to find some type of support or bracing system that would maintain my arm in a position to still be able to use my fingers (which are as yet unaffected, just the muscles in my shoulder girdle and upper arm) is pretty much impossible. I found one that was meandering down the lines of what I wanted, but of course would not provide me the functional ability I want to be able to sign (speak) to my husband and to work.

Hmmmmmm...... my sparks of creativity are being fanned, and maybe it's time for this dough-head to enter the "inventions" market, designing my own brace.....

OMFG I'm Gonna Leave a Damp Spot

I finally cussed my last at Firefox and banished it to the realm where IE has been for the past couple of years, since I first fell in love with the Fox. I have a new love now, and this one has me all creamy in my dreamy and whatnot- Opera. Not only am I able to quickly and easily download my shit I need to without fucking around with completely asinine "add-ons," I HAVE VOICE CONTROL.

How much better than that can you get? "Opera, Home." Up comes Google. "Opera, Mail." Holyfuckinshit, there's my email. "Opera, Page Down [or Up, Top, or whatever floats your boat]" and the god damn thing navigates around where you tell it to.

WTF was I thinking all this time, bowing down and kissing that dirty brown fox's ass? I am singing the Opera now, baby.

My Love Affair

My love affair with FireFox is over. I'm so pissed at FireFox right now, in fact, that I'm half tempted to remove it and all remnants of it from my computer.

Where things worked exactly like I wanted them to before, now nothing works right and sometimes does not even work at all. The thing that has me MOST pissed off, though, has to be the "Down-Them-All" add-on, which I use for downloading my work files. One click, and it's all done! Now the dirty bastard will NOT start the downloads and I have to click each and every link to start the download manually. I've had to resort to Flash Got, which works but is still a pain in the ass.

Oh, and this motherfucker keeps refreshing my screen every 12.4 seconds while I'm in Blogger, which is driving me up the wall.

I guess it's time to either uninstall and reinstall and if that does not work, uninstall and cut off its balls so it cannot reproduce on my computer.

There's always Opera......

For Better or Worse

I love when someone challenges me, presents me with different sides of an argument or issue and gives me something meaningful to mentally and philosophically grind on, something I did not have before to incorporate into my own beliefs system and/or opinions--especially when that someone happens to be a person whom I admire and deeply respect as I do Shannon.

In one of my recent rants, I went off half-cocked and more than a little pissed and, unfortunately, offended her. I will not apologize for my opinions, since they're mine and mine alone and I don't expect others to embrace them, only to respect them as being mine. However... because I failed to express myself adequately - too much going on all at once in my head and my fingers couldn't get it all out, much like a mush-mouth that can't speak fast enough to keep up with racing thoughts - and the lack of clarity with which I presented my opinion left it open for interpretation as offensive, I do apologize for that. I should have expounded on my statements and explained my feelings.

Shannon left an amazingly thought-provoking comment regarding that post:

As a 34 year old adult, it's easy for me to say that nobody could force or coerce me into anything but I'm not at all certain that confidence of self is easy to find in any 16 year old pregnant girl. Especially a 16 year old unwilling or unable to tell her own parents about the situation with the mother of her boyfriend so married to the idea of aborting that she forged a consent form. That's some pretty powerful persuasion in my opinion; no the mom didn't drive her there but it doesn't sound like she encouraged the girl to explore all of her options. Being able to have sex doesn't imbue with intelligence, obviously, but being 16 means by virtue of limited life experience the people who are advising you should actually have your best interest at heart. This was obviously not the case.

While I'm not sure what having the other mother in jail will solve, at the end of the day if it's all about responsibility then it would seem right that she should do the time for doing the crime.

I won't get into the logistics of what electing McCain could well do to a woman's right to choose, as in yes you're technically correct about his ability to ''pass a law'' but it's
no secret that any ruling effecting choice (or making it an issue of states rights) would come from the Supreme Court and we all know who appoints those judges.

And as a point of fact, without involving the Supreme Court, a law was passed banning so-called ''partial birth abortion'' (a medical procedure that doesn't actually exist, by the way) which effects not just a woman's right to choose to continue a pregnancy but effects the right of families to choose life or death for mothers with pregnancies that go horribly, horribly amiss. I cannot fathom anyone reading Cecily's story http://www.uppercasewoman.com/wastedbirthcontrol/losing_my_twins_or_how_i_became_the_internet_poster_girl_for_partial_birth_abortion/index.html) and speaking so easily of women who somehow need to take responsibility or the implied judgment of somehow learning a lesson by continuing an unwanted or worse, deadly, pregnancy.

Obviously, I am pro-choice but I am also apparently one of those you feel need to take responsibility because my first pregnancy was both unplanned and a complete surprise (pill + condom) which ended with my son dying after a month of intensive care. By your math, because in this ''birth control saturated society'', I am no brighter and am, in fact, just as ''stupid'' as the 16 year old. Months later, I was again pregnant after again practicing safe sex to a ridiculous degree KNOWING that any future children would meet the same end as our Jackson. The decision to not continue the pregnancy was taken from me when I mis-carried but there is no way in hell I would have continued that pregnancy knowing the end result would be another infected child, born only to suffer before succumbing as did his brother before him. To know that in your opinion my option had I not had a mis-carriage would be a wire hanger saddens me at a visceral level.

To which I respond, respectfully:

As a 35-year-old adult, I can reflect on myself as a 16-year-old with nearly 20 years of hindsight. At 16, at 18, at 21, and even now at 35, I was and continue to be a strong-willed individual with a solid beliefs system, not rigid and inflexible but resilient enough to be open-minded without fear of being easily swayed into complacency, compliance, and conformity. I equate that to "confidence of self" and it is part of what defines me as an individual. I knew then and continue to know now that the consequences of my silence, as I stated previously, would be far more grave than owning up to the reality of the current situation - not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. Anyone who does NOT know or understand this has been failed by those whose duty it was to teach them this and other invaluable life lessons.

Persuasion or not on the part of the boy's mother, some part of this girl WANTED that abortion, whether she acknowledges it or not - she may not even realize this and is likely having conflicting feelings about the pregnancy, the abortion, and every action and reaction occurring since - or she would not have gone to the lengths she did, seeking the forged consent and then using it. "Persuasion" was probably also a factor in her parents' actions against the other mother and yet one more set of circumstances this girl fell into and allowed herself to be swept away by.

I agree with you 100%, the woman who signed that form failed this girl in every way imaginable, but that was not what had me so pissed off at the time, and I stated as much. Although the girl was not her own daughter, this woman took on a modified role beyond that of "boyfriend's mother" the day her son impregnated the girl--and she had a responsibility not only to the girl but TO HER OWN SON to (as you perfectly worded it) "[encourage them] to explore all of [their] options." I also agree, sexual capabilities and intelligence have absolutely nothing to do with each other. In fact, I've witnessed situations where they were mutually exclusive: While working in an OB/GYN office, I encountered a 19-year-old patient in the midst of her 4th pregnancy who had no clue that sex caused her "condition," and obviously neither did her boyfriend - unless he did and was withholding that information from her, which to me is an act of malice.

No, having this woman in jail will solve nothing in the end. Judging by her actions, she seems the type of person willing to do anything to accomplish her own goals, no matter what the cost, an entirely selfish motivation and desire to manipulate others including her own child and another child under her care, and she will likely never change. She violated the law. She violated the children's trust. She violated the parent-child relationship within another family. She deserves more than just a year in jail, but unfortunately that is what she got. In no way was I defending her actions, because in reality I think she's even more stupid than the girl: She was manipulating people in order to satisfy her own needs and desires (the larger part of me seriously doubts her claim that it was in her son's interest so he could go to college, the case more likely being she wasn't "ready to be a grandma," while the girl was only manipulating people at the behest of her own parents).

As for the McCain discussion, I only pointed it out because of the literal terms it was presented on the message board: "If McCain does pass the law..." Too often I see the failings of the education system in action in general ignorance of how the government actually works. What you say is true about the Supreme Court and appointments of justices and the ramifications of their decisions for all of us--their interpretation of the "law" subjective based on their experiences, education, beliefs, and particularly politics, but that is just the icing on the cake in my argument that the law and lawmakers and lawyers need to be less consumptive of people's decision-making ability and less destructive of people's lives as a result.

I consider myself to be "pro-choice" as well, but I apply a different definition to this term than most do. By MY definition, pro-choice is not strictly tied to the abortion issue but in securing every individual's right to make their own choices, no matter what the topic of discussion. Each of us must make life-changing decisions and WE are the ones who must live with the consequences. Some faceless lawyer or panel of judges should never have the right to dictate those decisions to us, forcing us down a path of consequences we as individuals - not the judge - must live with, without having made that choice for ourselves. If I want to have an abortion or not, choose to vaccinate my children or not, send my children to a public school or not, wear my seat belt or not, smoke cigarettes or not, consume salt and grease and candy and caffeine or not - those decisions are mine to make and I am willing to live with the consequences, but they should not be made for me and I should not be forced to live with the costs when I had no part in choosing. In the ultimate decision-making process, we must each choose for ourselves:

Enter ye in by the narrow gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many be they that enter in thereby. --Matthew 7:13

No politician or judge can make that decision for me, and this is a driving power guiding me in every decision I must make; I don't need SCOTUS attempting to push me through what I believe is the wide gate, ya know?

Thank you for the link to Cecily's story. I did read through some of her posts and agree with some of her points but would also like to expand upon them with my own, colored with my own "pro-choice" standard, the most profound being this:

So it's easy to read my story and say, oh, yes, in case LIKE YOURS, abortion should be legal. But... when laws are passed that make it difficult for that teenage girl to get to exercise the right to control her own body--hey, I'm looking at you, Ms. Clinton, for not standing up harder against the parental notification laws--or for the professional woman to be able to fill a prescription, quietly, for RU486 at her local pharmacy so she can make her choice as well, or that harried mother to do the same thing--when those laws are passed, it's women like me that die. When you cut corners, you don't save babies lives. You kill women like me.

Let me say that again. When you compromise on abortion--when you sacrifice even the smallest corner of choice--you kill women like me. You create a culture of fear among doctors that puts lives like mine at risk.

There should be no abortion debate. There should be no compromise on abortion. There should be no concessions or sacrifices regarding choices and absolutely NEVER be a manipulation of the doctor-patient relationship by ANY branch of the government - from the legislature to the judicial system. A decision like this should be made strictly by a woman and her partner and her doctor. PERIOD.

While I do not generally agree with the practice of abortion (including "partial-birth abortion," which although is not medically classified as such - there is no CPT code for a procedure by that name - there is, in fact, a late-term abortion procedure to which this is referring, as Cecily stated in her post), I believe there are cases in which it is warranted - those "acceptable" cases, as she describes them. I have found myself exceptionally disgusted, seeing a young woman denied an abortion simply because she was a Medicaid recipient, refused while at their expense, yet the state was willing to provide for prenatal care and delivery and "heroic measures" made in an effort to save a severely deformed infant (who would be the recipient of intensive, aggressive, EXPENSIVE medical care FOR LIFE) as well as the mother, whose life was jeopardized by continuing the pregnancy and carrying to term, let alone trying to deliver - a cost of potentially hundreds of thousands of "taxpayer dollars" versus a couple of hundred and at immense emotional distress to the woman. For what reason? Policy. Dictated by politicians. Enforced by the courts. Consequences of which lived with by the patient. It's not a conversation I take lightly by any means, and the point I was trying to make was not at all about "somehow learning a lesson by continuing an unwanted or worse, deadly, pregnancy."

As for you and your situation, I must mention that I have been reading your blog for a while and am aware of your circumstances only insofar as you have chosen to share them with [us] me. I must at this point, as politely as I can, tell you that you have taken out of context my "responsibility versus birth control" argument and applied it to a completely different situation. Apples and oranges and all that. I stated, "She got knocked up. It happens." It DOES happen, and I think few would argue that point. However, I was not implying her stupidity factor as being related to her failure to use (or lack of efficacy of) birth control methods and her resultant pregnancy, but to her willingness to kowtow first to her boyfriend's mother in having the abortion and subsequent willingness to go along with bringing charges against her, claiming she was "coerced." Maybe she was and maybe she wasn't forced (she was definitely poorly counseled, as you pointed out). I don't know, I wasn't there; but again, a part of this girl must have wanted the abortion or she would not have done it, nor would she have gone to the lengths she did to have it done in the first place, then aggravating the situation by casting blame elsewhere. AGAIN, maybe she didn't understand her feelings and desire to terminate her pregnancy and didn't know how to deal with the emotions that followed. The point is, she is stupid in that she seems to lack ability to think for herself, doing what everyone else tells her to do.

You, Shannon, are nothing like this girl. "By [my] math," you were exercising birth control and got pregnant. It happens. No method of birth control (other than abstinence) is 100% effective. You were being responsible in your actions to try to prevent pregnancy, yet when it happened you stepped up and accepted it, courageously by what I gather, so there is no correlation between you and this girl whatsoever. With your next pregnancy, you continued to act responsibly, prior to, during, and after the fact. You were faced with a decision that I honestly cannot say how I myself would have reacted, but I understand and respect your (as a mother, I will say NEED) need, wanting to spare your baby the same fate as his brother. I applaud your ability to do this in a capacity that seems (to me) compassionate and caring and MOTHERLY. There is no way stupidity would enter into a reckoning of you and your actions - EVER - and nowhere in my reading of what you have posted have I ever gleaned any inkling that you laid the blame for your situation at anyone else's doorstep.

Finally, as to the wire hanger, I feel you have misconstrued (due to my lack of clarification) my objection to the original comment in this regard. First, I was appalled that someone would believe that women would need to "resort" to anything, particularly something as vile as a coat-hanger abortion (as a result of a decision forced upon them by bureaucrats who have no one's welfare in mind besides their own) when there ARE other options available, even in the event that abortion were illegal, if one is resourceful enough to seek them out. With that in mind, if a woman is ignorant enough to "resort" (I hate the context in which that was used, and I generally just don't like that word anyhow, it implies weakness) to just lying down and accepting mandates from the dictators, without seeking other alternatives or just standing up for her right to be a cognizant human being, then she gets what she deserves. I know it's harsh, it's cynical, it's probably even an ugly way to think, but if we don't stand up for our own rights, who will do it for us? Where we have allowed ourselves to be led as a society saddens ME on a visceral level.

Thank you, Shannon, for inspiring me to think deeper on this subject, for your comment, and above all for your willingness to challenge my opinions and thereby giving me a chance to grow in my beliefs.

Oh, Look - Another Buzzard Circling

Some of the stories in the news lately have had me craning my head toward the sky, seeking the source of the shadow swooping 'round and 'round over the carcass of the once-great late United States of America.

More often than not, the base depravity of the so-called "human beings" occupying the cozy chunk of real estate on the third rock from the sun is made even more glaringly obvious by those whose actions are invoked in hundreds of news articles circulated around the globe. Reflection on what they have done to warrant their 2-inch column (or equivalent) in the multitude of news services, coupled with acknowledgment that these. . . piles of walking, talking feces. . . biologically spring from the same genetic material as me, curdles my soul and makes me wish I were a cockroach rather than a human. They make me realize that we, as a society, are little better than termites burrowing into the unprotected foundations of our own "humanity."

It's only a matter of time before the exterminator shows up.

Man Shot Dead While Stomping Toddler to Death
This human stain deserved not a quick death via bullet to the brain but a mad and frenzied stomping into a mass of flesh incapable of being identified visually - by the very police officers and the crowd forced to witness the brutal slaying of a baby that certainly did not ask to be born to such a pile of shit. He deserved to get back exactly what he gave out. On one hand, I applaud the officer who had the courage to end this monstrosity's rampage and snub out any future attempts he might have made on subverting civilization, knowing that had he gone to trial he would have claimed "mental illness" and gotten off with a slap on the wrist. On the other hand, though, part of me wishes the crowd had done exactly that right back to him, said officer looking the other way and whistling as someone hosed his brains off the concrete the next day.

Mother and Girlfriend Torture 5-year-old Boy
This is yet another FINE example of the walking, talking piles of feces walking the planet, a true piece of shit who chose to spread her legs and breed without consideration of what kind of responsibilities parenting might entail - besides cruising to the bank to cash the welfare check. This bitch needs to be burned with cigarettes all over her body, including her genitals, and have her hands held onto a hot stove until her fingers curl into useless lumps of flesh and then be suspended from a doorway, leaving her there to ultimately suffocate much like those crucified in Biblical times.

Trip Chaperone Sued in Student's Death
This one just pisses me off on general principal. We're that fucking sue-happy in this country, that the parents of an 18-YEAR-OLD GIRL sue and WIN a nearly $700,000 judgment against another parent because their daughter - their 18-YEAR-OLD ADULT-AGE DAUGHTER (who gives a shit she was still in high school, she was NOT a minor, not a child, and therefore under the law responsible for her own actions) - whom they obviously did not teach proper life lessons to, including PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY AND ACCOUNTABILITY - became drunk and fell off a balcony to her death? I'm sad that the girl died, but I'm SICKENED by the fact that her parents successfully sued someone who took their child in good faith to a function at which the "child" refused to abide by the rules, and who gets punished? Not the perpetrator. Not the parents whose parenting skills are dubious at best.

No, it doesn't work that way in America, does it? We're not responsible for our own actions, someone else is responsible for them. Only thing is, how long until the other shoe drops and we have to suck it up (or take a backhoe through the sphincter) when the tables are turned?

Stupid People and Abortion

I can't help myself from going over to the ABC News website and particularly the comments sections of controversial articles, even after the last bout of stupidity shown by some of the members (not to mention the moderator or whoever it is that manipulates.... I mean, MANAGES these posts).

Not long ago I felt guilty, of what I'm not exactly sure, but kind of like I was rubbernecking at a fatal car wreck. Now I realize that I am witnessing not an automobile collision but bona fide train wreck: The United States of America. More on that later.

So, I'm reading this article about a woman who forged a consent form for his son's 16-year-old girlfriend to get an abortion and was sentenced to a year, but what she did in and of itself is not what got me on my soapbox tonight. I could really give a shit less that she did something so ignorant (I do think it took one HUGE set of balls - if there's one lesson we should have learned from so many of our Congressional and Presidential leaders over the past few decades, it would have to be NEVER PUT IT IN WRITING!) or even that she violated the parent-child relationship of another family.

No, what bothers me is this:

• The woman did NOT accompany the girl to the clinic to have the abortion, merely (illegally) signed a statement that she was the girl's mother and knew the girl was having it done. Interestingly, though, she has been accused of "coercing" the girl into having the abortion done against her will. Mysteriously, I find no mention of her forcibly dragging the girl to the clinic and, in fact, was proven by evidence at trial not to have even been present.
  
• The girl is being presented as terribly aggrieved, coerced into doing something she did not want to do. If she didn't want the abortion, why did she go, especially considering the fact that the one "coercing" her was not even there to make sure it was done? If she didn't want the abortion, why did she go so far as to obtain an illegal consent from her boyfriend's mother? If she didn't want the abortion, why didn't she tell her parents she was pregnant and being forced to do something that is just OBVIOUSLY so against her moral fiber BEFORE having it done, when it could have made a difference, instead of waiting to tell them a month after the fact?

Then, of course, we get to my favorite part: The comments board. I think I find it so fascinating because where else in the world will you find such blatant stupidity intermixed with interesting little nuggets of wisdom. Part of me, though, still finds it shocking that this stupidity is so proudly offered up in black and white, for the entire world to see. This one in particular, though, was by far my favorite:

I do not know how the mother of the daughter played a role in this, but there are many daughters who feel they cannot speak to their own parents especially on situations like this. I believe if a girl is old enough to have sex she is old enough to make her own decisions. All teenagers make mistakes so I am 100% pro-choice, and the girl would not have had a great oppurtinity to really explore her life. Teenager mothers are more likely to drop out of high school and not complete college. The settlers came to America for freedom so why should our government oppress women like this. If McCain does pass the law where abortion is illegial women will resort back to using clothes hangers and could more then likely bleed to death. I am proud of this mother for doing this, and she has given the young girl a chance to live her life.

She got knocked up. It happens. It's not like our society's not SATURATED with information about birth control (argued on the message boards because it's not 100% effective, even though they persist in "forgetting" that there is, in fact, one form of birth control that is 100% effective: Abstinence. Don't spread your legs, don't stick your member where it doesn't need to be, and you won't get pregnant - 100 PERCENT OF THE TIME. Just like the premise "ignorance of the law is no excuse," ignorance and/or failing to educate yourself (or your children) about the consequences of their actions is no excuse. Have sex = Get pregnant (or diseased, again, a story for another time). My position: This girl is just plain stupid, and she tried to cover her stupidity (proof she's a politician-in-waiting) with more stupidity and assigning the blame to someone else.

As for not wanting to talk to her parents, if *I* were being forced into doing something like this and I didn't want it, short of hog-tying and gagging me, throwing me in a lake with a cement block attached to my leg, you can bet your ass I'd be crowing from every rooftop, knowing the consequences for my silence would be far worse than those of what got me there in the first place.

How can someone be 100% Pro-Choice just because "all teenagers make mistakes"? What the FUCK does that have to do with not accepting responsibility for your actions and dealing with your guilt in a manner that does little more than punish a third party for your choices? This woman sitting in jail will NOT alleviate the girl's guilt feelings and now, by her own and her parent's actions, she has probably lost the support of her boyfriend - the father of the baby - who will have his own grief issues at the loss of his child, compounded by the betrayal by his girlfriend. Allowing teenagers to have an abortion because they "made a mistake" does not instill in them a sense of responsibility. It only opens the door to a lifelong commitment to lack of personal responsibility. "I fucked up, I want a do-over." Since when does "REAL" life allow do-overs?

"The settlers came to America for freedom so why should our government oppress women like this." Where the hell did that come from? How is the government oppressing women like "this"? Like what? Why should the Nazifems oppress MEN like this, "this" being stripping from the man, without whom that child and hence the woman's "right" to choose would never have existed, any "right" to have a say in what happens to HIS child?

Finally, my favoritest part of all, "If McCain does pass the law where abortion is illegial women will resort back to using clothes hangers and could more then likely bleed to death." First of all, McCain can't "pass" any law without it having first been approved by the Congress and presented to him to pass it. Why are so many people SO FUCKING STUPID when it comes to the workings of the government? Why are so people SO FUCKING STUPID that they need to start looking for a scapegoat before there's anything concrete to hang on the goat's head before sending him off into the wilderness? Why are people SO FUCKING STUPID that they feel they can't accept responsibility for their choices and actions that they will have to "resort" to anything?

If women can't accept responsibility for their actions and decisions and use good judgement, I say LET them "resort back to using clothes hangers." Let them bleed to death. It's just one less stupid, useless person consuming valuable oxygen.

I Always Knew..... (Part II)

One of my spewings on another journal:

When I grow up, I'm going to be a doctor, and I'm going to take only cases of people written off as hypochondriacs, nutcases, or malingerers. I'm going to stir vigorously to see if that's really fruit lurking at the bottom of the yogurt cup. . . or a rat turd in disguise. I'll start by taking every minute detail of their histories, right down to the last sniffle, cough and wheeze, when and where and how and with whom they've inserted their various appendages or vice versa, and every medication (or miscellaneous object) ever stuffed into an orifice (or other route of entry). Then I'm going to think. . . . A lot. . . . I might even draw a flow chart, since I think they're cool. On a dry-erase board. With a lot of colored markers. I'll get to the root of the issue and find out if they really are whack jobs, hacks, or - GOOD GRIEF, HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN??? - someone who is actually sick but no one listens to because they're too busy looking at the hand extended for copayment.

I have a few theories about certain aspects of "modern medicine":

1. Many people in the profession don't have the balls to find and then present proof that someone is malingering, for fear of being sued. I, on the other hand, have HUGE balls, (metaphorically speaking). They are brass and I polish them regularly. I say, "Bring it on," knowing I will eventually drop their house of cards. Yes, it's a lot of work, but worth it in the end because it gives credence to and protects those who truly do suffer from whatever malady these boneheads have cooked up and pretend to have. Malingering is near the top of my list of evils perpetrated against society.

2. (This one makes a lot of people furious, but I can't help it, it's my opinion and mine alone and I don't ask you to share it, just respect me enough to listen to it, for mine eyes have seen WAY too much.) It is my position that 97% of so-called "mental illness" isn't illness at all and should NOT be treated as such. If it ain't organic (i.e., structural damage caused by defect or trauma, measurable biochemical response, etc.), then it ain't mental illness. There's an epidemic of "mental illness" in this country, with >25% of the adult US population diagnosed as mentally ill. People need to quit popping the psychocandy into their faces because all they're doing is altering their brains and intentionally creating that "biochemical response." The difference between illicit drugs (LSD, Ecstasy, meth) and legal psychiatric meds (including those shoveled into kids by the wheelbarrow for ADHD) is the method of production/packaging and who's pockets are being lined. They elicit virtually identical chemical responses in the brain, but Big Pharma's not getting their cut when dealers sell it cheaper.

3. Each person knows his or her own body better than anyone else ever could. After all, they're inside it every day and the best the rest of us can do is LOOK at it, maybe touch it. If it's not something obvious like a 12-inch gaping laceration or a gangrenous toe, we could miss it. If a person truly believes something is wrong, they're worth listening to.

This is the history of my favorite "hypothetical patient" (me) and analysis by my favorite "hypothetical medical practitioner" (also me, sans license and all) along with (paraphrased) responses from "actual hypothetical doctors."

1988: Epstein-Barr infection.

1990: "Idiopathic seizure disorder," petit mal seizures disappearing after a few months.

1992: Broadside auto accident with "minor trauma" to C-spine cord.

1994: Rollover auto accident with "minor trauma" to C-spine cord.

1995: Pernicious anemia after 5+ years of fatigue and sleeping spells diagnosed as everything from narcolepsy to CFS to stress of parenthood, begun on vitamin B12 injections (gradually going from working on a farm to being confined to a desk due to weakness and fatigue).

2002: "Idiopathic seizure disorder" revisited, grand mal seizures with alarming frequency and resistant to treatment but subsiding about a year later and not returning.

2003: Minor right arm and leg weakness pretty much ignored by everyone (myself included), felt related to C-spine.

2004: Progressively worsening but mostly irritating rather than havoc-wreaking right arm and leg weakness, MRI of the neck showing herniated disk and syringomyelia.

After that, it's all downhill. . .

August 2006: Sudden profound right arm and bilateral leg weakness, migrating to respiratory and facial muscles with lethargy, slurred speech, dysphagia, difficulty breathing, incontinence, spasticity, and immobility. Internist: "It's all in your head. You work too much, you have too much stress, and this job is giving you medical school-itis. Here's the name of a psychiatrist." "Are you listening? I want a neurologist, not a psychiatrist." "There's no indication for that." "That's nice, make the appointment anyhow."

November 2006: Neurologist: "Your brain MRI is clear. It's probably the syrinx. Here's the name of a neurosurgeon. Maybe it needs to be drained."

January 2007: Neurosurgeon: "You're faking. I can't help you. Go back to your doctor."

March 2007: "Look, I know there's something serious going on here and I need answers. I'm getting worse by the day and my kids feel like they're watching me die. I KNOW it's MS and I feel like I'm running in circles." Neurologist: "I doubt it's MS, since your MRI was clear. It could be muscular dystrophy or fibromyalgia. We'll do an EMG and send you to Cleveland Clinic."

June 2007: C.C. Specialist: "It's not muscular dystrophy. I suspect myasthenia gravis. Let's run some blood work and I want another MRI of your head and neck, and then you can follow up with your regular neurologist. She'll send you back here if needed."

July 2007: Sudden complete loss of vision in right eye. "It's optic neuritis. I've been telling doctor after doctor for months and months I believe it's MS but no one listens, and this is a cardinal sign." ER doctor: "Your CAT scan doesn't show anything acute and I don't see a reason on physical exam for your visual loss." "CT, especially without contrast, is not sensitive enough to pick up an MS plaque unless it's pretty damned BIG, so I don't know why you wasted my time doing it when you should have done an MRI. You're an asshole." "I'm sorry you feel that way, but as you know, I'm not a neurologist OR an ophthalmologist." Neurologist: "We'll get another MRI." "Fine, but I've also scheduled an appointment with an ophthalmologist on my own." "Good. Ask him to send me a report, and I'll give him a call." Ophthalmologist: "I see blurred disk margins on the right, which fits optic neuritis, and your latest MRI does show plaques consistent with demyelination, so you're probably right about the MS."

August 2007: Neurologist: "Yes, your MRI now shows plaques and when we compare your current study with the prior one, we can make out where some of these larger lesions were just beginning, but we need to run additional studies to confirm, visual evoked potentials and a lumbar puncture, before we can start you on medications."

November 2007: Neurologist: "Your lumbar puncture and VEP results were consistent with MS, so we can begin treatment."

My ON occurred in July with positive MRI findings but I was not given a "formal" diagnosis until November. I was denied any form of treatment those 5 months including for the acute episode and my symptoms continued to progress, relentlessly and more rapidly. I had no "remission." I had no "plateau." I had no "reversion to normal or near-normal function." I now live with permanent visual loss and hemiplegia. Had I been treated with a preventive such as Copaxone when I first suspected MS 16 months earlier, might some of my function and quality of life have been preserved? I believe it to be so. It seems wrong to force a patient to suffer "x" number of episodes or exhibit "x" number of lesions before allowing treatment. What about the 5% with MS who have a normal MRI scan? Do they just suck it up and live with the knowledge that they face possible permanent loss of function before they can get the treatment they need to try to slow their disease?

This is one of the things that turned me into an asshole: Knowing I had MS, told I was faking, written off as a psych case, ignored by those sworn to "first do no harm" yet led me to worsened disability by inaction. My nightmare is in the fact that it has happened before, diagnosed with pernicious anemia with critical levels but initially denied the therapy that ultimately saved my life because "we need to do more tests," leaving me with permanent CNS damage including neuropathy, possibly the seizure disorder, potentially even the MS that has claimed a portion of my life.

Over the course of 16 months, I deteriorated from an active mother of 6 working 120 hours a week to a bedridden lump. Other stressors heaped upon me during this time in a deliberate attempt to put me in a hole covered with 6 feet of dirt, by someone wanting to step into and take over the life I'd built for myself and my family, had me on the brink of emotional, spiritual, and physical collapse. Higher forces reached out and brought me back from the edge of that abyss, but I was drained and struggled through the next several months before finally being placed on Provigil, which has breathed new life into me and given me the strength to fight and win the battle against evil trying to destroy me. Again, why did I have to wait so long to get the medication I so desperately needed many months before? I have aspirations of becoming a physician assistant, and I will do everything I can to advocate for the best interests of my patients.

In the meantime, I read. Diseases like this were made for people like me, because we don't just lie down and accept it. I read everything I can and I think. I think about whether there is a correlation between some other event in my history, things that could have predisposed me to or triggered my eventual slide into MS. I've seen information about possible links between EBV and MS; for years my symptoms were routinely dismissed as "reactivation mono" when they could have, in fact, been early progression into MS. I've read about MS'ers often suffering from vitamin B deficiencies and wonder if mine is a factor (besides B12, I have B6 recently discovered). Could the trauma to my spinal cord that led to my syrinx also have triggered the development of lesions, spurring my immune system to attack?

I wonder.

I wonder.

I wonder.

I am seeking the answer, and I know that someday I will find it.

I Always Knew..... (Part I)

Diseases like multiple sclerosis (MS) were made for people like me.

Since I received my formal diagnosis in November of 2007 - 15+ months after the acute onset of profound right-sided upper and lower extremity weakness and debilitating fatigue that has not subsided since August of 2006 even after having gone into "remission," (full or partial recovery of "deficits acquired during the relapse") and 4 months after a bout of optic neuritis leaving me with residual near-blindness in my right eye, a constellation of symptoms that should have diagnosed me immediately but for "protocols" in the medical establishment - I have continued my search for answers. The question was never "Why me?" I already know the answer to that: Diseases like this were made for people like me. We don't give up. We find answers. We challenge the complacency and the COMPLICITY of an establishment that has willfully (and mayhap maliciously) chosen to relegate us to the annals of medical obscurity because it's not pandemic, it's not seminal, it's not a major-league hitter like diabetes or cancer, and worst of all.... it's not a money generator. It's a relatively rare condition that follows no predictable course and has no foregone outcome. At best, it's a curiosity, to be poked at with a bendy-straw from time to time because there's not enough money behind those doing the poking to buy a cattle prod.

I know I am not alone in my quest for answers:



You might ask, "What, exactly, IS the question to which I need an answer?" To be quite honest, I'm not really certain; but what started as a nebulous splotch in the middle of my psyche began spreading and finally coagulating, forming a scab to be picked at to make it start bleeding again.

I love to read. I read everything I can get my hands on (again, with the exception of romance novels.... good for nothing more than toilet paper or campfire starter). I love to think, reason, suggest and analyze and reject and counter-suggest, arguing with myself in a way.

I was begun on Copaxone in November of 2007, after I finally got my hard-fought diagnosis. It was so hard because I couldn't get anyone to listen. I was told I was stressed, it was all in my head, I needed a psychiatrist. I was told I was faking. I was told it was bad karma. My own persistence, my internal drive to not lie down and accept candy-coated bullshit at the price of $20 a whack (my office visit co-pay), my frank will to prove I was neither a nutcase nor a malingerer, and above all my maternal instinct, would not allow me to stop seeking the answers I needed and, in the process, finding out what the actual question is.

Deep Thought: I think the problem such as it was, was too broadly based. You never actually stated what the question was.

Now, I certainly don't intend to ponder 7-1/2 million years to get my answer (I don't think it's 42), and I most definitely will not be waiting another 8 million years to find out the actual question. Much like Ms. Elaine, I will be picking at that scab, lest it heal over and fall off, to be forgotten with nothing more than a tiny scar.

I am not a scar.

Okay, for This Week

I'm finally done (kind of) fucking around with my blog template again. I'm pretty pleased with myself this time around, too. It's slicker 'n snot on a doorknob, if I may be so bold. OH, of course I may? Why, thank you. I finally put my blog roll back up, too (about damn time, huh?). I found a template that got me all excited and I tweaked it all up all by my lonesome, from a 2-column to 3-column format with some trial and error (mostly error). I also added some "page" posts, where I can collect my favoritest of my favorite funny shit and whatnot.

Now to get over to my other sites and do sometime to spice them up, and then maybe I will actually get back to BLOGGING something.

It's just been kind of crazy around here lately, either I feel like shit or I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with work, most days feeling like shit AND overwhelmed with work or feeling like shit BECAUSE I'm overwhelmed with work.

I should just quit work and go live in a box.

Dude Needs to Get a REAL Job

You may remember Roy Pearson, the former judge who sued for $54 million for a pair of pants. Dude's back in court suing again, this time for $1 million in damages and his job back, claiming he was wrongfully fired, ". . . protected as a whistle-blower and . . . the city used the fact that he was being 'vilified in the media' to cut him out of his job" (because of the pants case).

I wonder WHY????? *sarcasm dripping* I would have fired him, too, a former judge filing a lawsuit as absolutely asinine as that. Had he sued only for the cost of replacing the pants (or even the entire suit, as he was wont to mention in his claim) instead of exhibiting his greed, the case probably would never have reached the public eye - and he probably would have won. Now he just looks like a moron.

Time to get a REAL job, buddy, and quit trying to live off the backs of others.

Mother's Day

I've been a mother for a long time (to me, anyhow), 16 years to be exact. When my two oldest boys were little, they proudly presented me with their perennial Mother's Day creations made in school, toiled over meticulously and then stuffed in a bookbag for the bus ride home, sometimes sobbing over the wrinkles and rips their gifts had suffered. I treasured each and every one of them, no matter how tattered and torn, because I knew they were made with love.

These marvelous tributes to Mom stopped with the boys leaving elementary school and walking through the doors of middle school and later high school, and my heart ached over not getting those ripped and wrinkled masterpieces. I had to acknowledge the fact that my babies were growing up and I was getting old(er).

Some years later, I married and became pregnant, twice back to back, and a few months after that my husband's 2 young daughters came to live with us, bringing our number to 8. We've tried to make our new family happy and nurturing, to give all of our kids the best chance at a bright and successful future and, for the girls, to try to ease some of the pain of their past. Of course, I was ecstatic at my "second chance" to surround myself with little ones. No one ever suspected that the fatigue and muscle weakness I was experiencing, at the time only irritating, was the beginning of the rapid decline that would eventually lead to my diagnosis of MS. Everyone, however, suspected that the horror from the girls' past would continue to haunt us and it has, casting a shadow and eating a hole in our lives in a way that no disease ever could.

Today is Mother's Day. Today, besides the flowering cherry tree given to me by all of my kids (with help from Dad), I received gifts from my girls. My 3-year-old proudly pulled from her bookbag a wrinkled and smashed poster she made at school for just this day. My 6-year-old gave me a poem with her handprint, to remind me of how small she once was after she has grown into her own life. My 7-year-old gave me a card listing the reasons she thinks I'm the best mom and why she loves me so much.

It refreshed my heart, my spirit, my well-being, getting these works of art that had flowed through their tiny fingers as their love for me found its way out of their gigantic hearts, tattered and torn in just the way I like them, and somehow they remind me of myself: No matter how wrinkled and broken I become, my children love me anyhow, because that's just the way love works.

I've come full circle, and the tree planted today in my honor will grow and thrive and stand as a testament to what it really means to be a mom.

It's Called "Population Control," People

People with serious diseases are finding themselves getting handed the shitty end of the stick when it comes to insurance copays on their medications. The medication costs can be enormous, and the insurer wants the insured to foot a bigger portion of the bill than their previous traditional copays of $10, $20, whatever, to 20% to 33%. The list of diseases in this article just happens to include multiple sclerosis, which you all know is my newfound "friend." These people with severe and chronic illnesses are the ones least likely to be working and earning an income in the first place, so let's sockittoem.

In terms of cold hard cash: The Copaxone injections I use for my MS cost $1740.13 for a 30-day supply, of which I pay a $40 copay. Under this "tiered" system, I would pay anywhere between $348.03 and $574.24 a month for my medication. This is an 870% to 1435% increase in my out-of-pocket cost just for the medication. This does not include the cost my employer and I fork over to the insurer in the first place just to have coverage, said cost having increased many-fold since I started working at the company a mere 7 years ago. Also keep in mind: This is not a medication to CURE my disease, merely to "try" to prevent acute exacerbations. This makes just so much sense, really. They'll NOT pay for medication to try to PREVENT an exacerbation, but they'll cover the much larger bills associated with hospitalization and testing and inpatient medications administered, etc., for an acute exacerbation. Yeah. Kind of like not paying for birth control or abortion but paying for prenatal care, labor and delivery, and then yet another child that will be covered on the policy.

So my choices are:
1. Fork over the cash (which is almost a whole week's pay) to get the medication to try to keep from getting worse and ending up on permanent disability, foregoing those pesky incidental expenses like rent, groceries, and electricity. I'll be living in a box on the street, but at least I'll have my medication!
2. Use my cash to pay for those pesky incidental expenses (above) and stop taking the medication, progressing in my disease process until I "expire." (That means "DIE" for those of you who don't know that medical term that bothers me for some reason, like we have a fucking date stamped on our butt cheek like a gallon of milk.)

I'm not wealthy. I can't afford to buy these medications. So I will just have to suck it up, accept the fact that I am poor and destined to die quicker than a wealthy individual who has the money to buy them to prolong not just their life, but their QUALITY of life.

That's why it's called population control. I've seen it for years, known it was happening and tried spreading the word but just being called a fruitcake or conspiracy theorist for my efforts. I've seen a young woman die of a completely treatable cancer just because of her insurance carrier's "policies." I've seen another woman beg and plead for money to abort a deformed fetus that would not survive delivery and likely would have killed the mother during said delivery, because Medicaid, her only healthcare coverage, would not pay for it: Two birds with one stone?

Kicking Myself in the Head

Or I would, anyhow, if my leg reached that high but it d0esn't so I'll just imagine that I'm doing it.

I sooooooooo wish I had upgraded my RAM years ago.

I also wish I'd bought a wide screen monitor years ago.

I like the feel of my new keyboard, too, but neglected to pay attention to the "little things," like the hot key combination needed to switch between PCs with the KVM switch. . . DOES.NOT.WORK. on this keyboard. You have to push the button for the PC you want to use, on the switch itself.

Everything else is peachy, though.

Oh.My.God

If I didn't have a reason to love Tiger Direct before, I do now. I ordered my goodies on Sunday night. I selected ground shipping, 3 to 7 days. I expected my stuff around Friday. Today is Tuesday. My stuff was delivered TODAY. TWO DAYS.

If you need ANYTHING for your computer, go to Tiger Direct. GO. Just do it.

Now I'm off to go play with my new toys, and hopefully get them all hooked up so all will be right with the world.

What a Great Idea

Diesel has inspired me to a great idea [ALL. . . HAIL. . . DIESEL], but I think I'm going to take all the credit for it anyhow, because I'm entitled to be an asshole every once in a while. It's just a shame that the truly great ideas seem so few and far between. Then again, maybe it's all perspective.

I've gone all over the place here with everything from ranting and raving about stuff I see in the news to whining and moaning about my disease and personal trials and tribulations with a little humor and a whole lot of weirdness thrown in for good measure. After all, as the name implies, whatever floats my boat. However, I have a feeling it might be a source of morbid fascination for the folks who dare to come back for a second visit, let alone those who actually feel brave enough to add this site to their feed readers (amazingly enough, there are a few, you poor souls), to see what kind of crap comes out of my mouth (or keyboard) next. I think it's time to recover and clean up this train wreck.

Anyhow, Diesel was busy with one of his own little hoo-hoos, and he was throwing out ideas for blog names that might indicate something more impressive than your run-of-the-mill stuff that is in abundance all over the net and recycled ad nauseum and perhaps making more of an impression when applying to one of his other sites, Humor-Blogs.com. Go read what The Man has to say, since he explains it much better than I can, and at least he's coherent. Great post, Diesel.

Anyhow, I have no desire to just drop and run from My Boat, it's kind of like home, but I do have a new site in the making (thanks for the name inspiration, Diesel), Mainlining Mountain Dew. I have a URL but nothing's up yet, so give me time. THAT'S where I'll be concentrating my humor and witticisms, stupidity (i.e., Future of America), and the great emails and pictures people pass along to me that I want to share. There will likely be duplicate stuff there from here, since some of the stuff I've put up here was pretty fucking hilarious and deserves to be recycled.

Til then, lotsa love,
A.

P.S.: Dude, I'm totally stealing your idea and don't feel the least bit bad about it!

I've Finally Done It

I got so tired of this computer freezing up on me, even AFTER removing XP SP2, I finally broke down and ordered more RAM like the IT guy at work suggested I do years ago. I went all-out at Tiger Direct and ordered TWO of them, 256MB each, the maximum my HP Pavilion is configured for. Keep your fingers crossed that this is the cure for my computer's ills and I stop getting that irritating "virtual memory is too low" message when I open 2 or more applications or even just use Firefox. It seemed a good deal, $60 total, and that's a helluva lot less than a new PC would cost, which would probably have Vista on it, and I'm not ready to give up XP. I don't need another PC; I just need to make this one do the job it did when it was all shiny and new.

I could go wild on Tiger Direct, if I had the money to do it and no sense of self-control. I let slip a wee bit and ordered a few other things I needed/wanted:

• A 20" LCD monitor. I can't see shit anymore and the dude at Office Max (I detest that store but was in dire need of a new office chair and dragged myself in there Saturday. It's so comfortable, I could sleep in it!) said a bigger screen might help. I got a nicer monitor than the cheapest one ($200) they had, for the same price. I shopped around and found one I liked at another store for about $240, then found a similar one on Tiger for less.
  
• A Trulink USB and PS/2 KVM switch with audio. Keyboard manufacturers seem to have decided to stop making PS/2 keyboards and mice for some reason, since the stores only seem to sell USB stuff (unless you want a junk $13 PS/2 keyboard that lasts about 2 months) and I need a new one, but my Trendnet KVM switch (which I love), quite unfortunately, is only PS/2 and not compatible with a USB adapter. It's so sad. It's a good switch and only a year old, but I'll package it up and keep it just in case. (Pack ratting)
  
• A Logitech Wave USB keyboard. I saw one in Staples (another store I detest but drag myself into when I need supplies) and liked it. It felt good to my hands and wrists, which is obviously vital in my line of work. So now I will have a USB keyboard to plug into my new KVM switch. I didn't get a mouse, since I have a couple here that are relatively new, all PS/2, but since the switch takes BOTH, it's all good.
  

I'm excited. I can't wait for my stuff to come. I could have paid extra and gotten it next-day or 2-day, but it's a good lesson in patience to have it shipped via ground in 3-7 days. Gives me a couple of extra days of gooey anticipation about my new toys and time to collect storage boxes for my old equipment.

Now, don't think I'm a freak for keeping the old stuff. It's just that if it's not BROKEN (broken stuff goes in the trash) but maybe just getting a little worn out or I don't like the shape or feel of it (I'm really peculiar about the feel of my mouse to my hand, and I hate mice that have no scroll wheel, and sometimes my headsets smoosh my ears against the earpieces of my glasses in a way I don't like), I hold onto it in case of emergency. That way, if whatever I'm using DOES break, I have backup until I can get a replacement. I work nights, when the stores are closed, so running to Office Max at 3 a.m. is just not an option.

In anticipation of our "rebate" checks, hubby-man and I ordered a new bed (thank goodness some stores still have layaways). He's been harping for months about how bad our old bed is getting and yelping whenever the Tempurpedic and Select Comfort commercials come on. Those just seem like they'd be out of my league money-wise (I admit I've never priced them but have a vivid imagination). So we went into the local furniture store and he fell in love with a Simmons mattress they had, and it was on even on sale. This store, where we've bought a lot of furniture over the years, can put it in layaway for you at the sale price. They also have free delivery. It's a hometown store and they don't just care about moving merchandise but actually satisfying the customer. They're all-around good people and know us by name (they also have a Radio Shack in the store and I send hubby-man there to buy my equipment for work, and the woman there is learning sign language). A few years ago I bought a solid oak entertainment center and glass-doored bookcase there, none of that Sauder crap they sell in Wal-Mart and Meijer, and 2 matching recliners. They were even able to match the color and pattern of another chair (different name, even) that I'd bought years prior at a different store! I'm also excited about that.

I've had a busy couple of days, and it just keeps on staying busy. Tomorrow's my appointment with the surgeon about my gallstones. Ugh.