Today I lived history. There aren't many moments like this in life, and so far my moments haven't been positive.
Al Gore winning, but denied office. 9/11. Iraq invasion, Saddam's capture. GW winning the second term. Hurricane Katrina.
This election I had the great task of choosing between Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama. I was leaning towards Hilary. I knew Obama was a great leader, a rock star. I knew that when he spoke at the DNC for John Kerry. I just wasn't sure if this was his time. I can't tell you the moment I knew he was the one.
Barack Obama inspires people to be better. To create change. That's an admirable quality. He's brought passion, determination. Hope.
I wish I could be that, if only a fraction of it.
November 4 I watched history, sitting in my living room. Thrilled, overwhelmed. Today I watched history, sitting in my living room. Excited, elated. Ready for the word, to leap, to act, to be better for others.
It's a tough road ahead, no one will deny that. It's not going to be easy. But it's a challenge we have to face.
Cheers to President Barack Obama -- if that's not a reason to celebrate with Pepsi Twist ... I don't know what is.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Shave a couple years off my life ...
The universe gave us a little reminder on Friday not to take what we have forgranted.
My Dad went in for a knee replacement. Nothing urgent, in fact the doctors and nurses teased him he was there by his own free will and was, indeed, asking for it. Knee surgery ... in our world, the world of kidney transplants, three hip replacements, infections, hospital stays running weeks to months and calls in the middle of the day announcing cardiac arrest ... in that world, knee surgery is pretty mild.
So my family very calmly and almost nonchalantly prepared for the surgery. Mom and I took off work to be with Dad on the day of the surgery. They picked me up and we went to the hospital. We checked in and soon they took Dad to be prepped. We got to see him and sat and chatted waiting for the doctor to give the final go ahead by ceremonious marking of the body part to be cut on.
He arrived and looked at Dad's leg. As he was feeling the knee, he stopped and looked at Dad. "What's this lump?" he asked. Dad said it was nothing, a bump from something that happened during the summer, it appeared and never went away. But never got any bigger either.
His doctor shook his head with a frown. "It feels like a tumor," he said. He went on to explain that in addition to elective knee surgeries, he removed cancerous tumors ... tumors that were often discovered when people came in for different procedures or scheduled check ups. "Most of the time bumps bring the tumors out to the surface. Do you know how stupid it would be for me to cut on your knee with a tumor there?"
I think the bottom of all our stomachs dropped out from under us. I had to sit down. Dad put his arm over his eyes. Tumor. Cancer.
"What can we do so I can get his surgery today?" my dad asked.
His doctor explained a MRI would show if it was a tumor or something else like a fat pocket or fluid, etc. "But there's little chance they'll be able to fit you in today," he said.
"So do the surgery and we'll deal with the lump later," my dad decided.
His doctor shook his head. "If I did a biopsy when I was in there today, we still wouldn't know for sure. Because I could only take part of it and miss more behind or beneath it."
He took out his marker and drew a circle on the bed sheet, coloring one section of the circle. The part that changes a person's life.
"Let me make a call," he said. With that he disappeared down the hall.
The nurse hovered at the door ... "Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper. I can't remember if anyone answered.
We could hear his doctor, who I found out is a neighbor of my parents, give orders to nurses around him.
He came back in. "Dr. So-and-So is a friend and is able to squeeze you in. The transport team should get you over now. Then we'll see what'll happen next."
So they cart my dad away. A nurse explains we where we can wait and it'll take 45 minutes to an hour to find out.
We run an errand then sit in the waiting room. Stare at the floor. Look at magazines. Watch the clock. I wipe at tears that keep creeping up to my eyes. Finally they call our name.
We do our best not to run to the prep room. And there, they are prepping. We look to the nearest nurse. Surgery? What did the MRI indicate? "It was just fluid from where he hit his leg. The OR was held for him. We're getting ready to take him back."
Well. That's an hour or so that reduced my life span.
Our hearts and stomachs settle back to their respective places and we take a deep breath. Talking and joking like we were before, this time with renewed perspective for the good things in life. The nurse who hovered previously walked past and said "I see smiles, it must have been good news." I also hear that sentiment and others like "Fluid from a bump" and "Not cancerous" travel down the hallway to the various staff connected to the surgery.
A nurse steps behind the bed and prepares to push it away, said, "Now's the time for hugs and kisses." Dad looks at us and gives a quick wave. "Later."
We go back to the waiting room, almost giddy, so relieved and ready for the wait ahead, because the hard part was over.
Of course that wait was another five or six hours. Nothing like spending 12 hours of one day at the hospital.
Plus another 16 over the next two days ...
I'm so, so tired. I forgot just how much it takes out of you. So emotionally drained and overwhelmed at the same time.
My Dad went in for a knee replacement. Nothing urgent, in fact the doctors and nurses teased him he was there by his own free will and was, indeed, asking for it. Knee surgery ... in our world, the world of kidney transplants, three hip replacements, infections, hospital stays running weeks to months and calls in the middle of the day announcing cardiac arrest ... in that world, knee surgery is pretty mild.
So my family very calmly and almost nonchalantly prepared for the surgery. Mom and I took off work to be with Dad on the day of the surgery. They picked me up and we went to the hospital. We checked in and soon they took Dad to be prepped. We got to see him and sat and chatted waiting for the doctor to give the final go ahead by ceremonious marking of the body part to be cut on.
He arrived and looked at Dad's leg. As he was feeling the knee, he stopped and looked at Dad. "What's this lump?" he asked. Dad said it was nothing, a bump from something that happened during the summer, it appeared and never went away. But never got any bigger either.
His doctor shook his head with a frown. "It feels like a tumor," he said. He went on to explain that in addition to elective knee surgeries, he removed cancerous tumors ... tumors that were often discovered when people came in for different procedures or scheduled check ups. "Most of the time bumps bring the tumors out to the surface. Do you know how stupid it would be for me to cut on your knee with a tumor there?"
I think the bottom of all our stomachs dropped out from under us. I had to sit down. Dad put his arm over his eyes. Tumor. Cancer.
"What can we do so I can get his surgery today?" my dad asked.
His doctor explained a MRI would show if it was a tumor or something else like a fat pocket or fluid, etc. "But there's little chance they'll be able to fit you in today," he said.
"So do the surgery and we'll deal with the lump later," my dad decided.
His doctor shook his head. "If I did a biopsy when I was in there today, we still wouldn't know for sure. Because I could only take part of it and miss more behind or beneath it."
He took out his marker and drew a circle on the bed sheet, coloring one section of the circle. The part that changes a person's life.
"Let me make a call," he said. With that he disappeared down the hall.
The nurse hovered at the door ... "Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper. I can't remember if anyone answered.
We could hear his doctor, who I found out is a neighbor of my parents, give orders to nurses around him.
He came back in. "Dr. So-and-So is a friend and is able to squeeze you in. The transport team should get you over now. Then we'll see what'll happen next."
So they cart my dad away. A nurse explains we where we can wait and it'll take 45 minutes to an hour to find out.
We run an errand then sit in the waiting room. Stare at the floor. Look at magazines. Watch the clock. I wipe at tears that keep creeping up to my eyes. Finally they call our name.
We do our best not to run to the prep room. And there, they are prepping. We look to the nearest nurse. Surgery? What did the MRI indicate? "It was just fluid from where he hit his leg. The OR was held for him. We're getting ready to take him back."
Well. That's an hour or so that reduced my life span.
Our hearts and stomachs settle back to their respective places and we take a deep breath. Talking and joking like we were before, this time with renewed perspective for the good things in life. The nurse who hovered previously walked past and said "I see smiles, it must have been good news." I also hear that sentiment and others like "Fluid from a bump" and "Not cancerous" travel down the hallway to the various staff connected to the surgery.
A nurse steps behind the bed and prepares to push it away, said, "Now's the time for hugs and kisses." Dad looks at us and gives a quick wave. "Later."
We go back to the waiting room, almost giddy, so relieved and ready for the wait ahead, because the hard part was over.
Of course that wait was another five or six hours. Nothing like spending 12 hours of one day at the hospital.
Plus another 16 over the next two days ...
I'm so, so tired. I forgot just how much it takes out of you. So emotionally drained and overwhelmed at the same time.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The things I find when trying to expand my horizons
Perfect for the conservative to mourn the day ... or a great gift to make your favorite liberal suffer. Bi-partisan Beauty ... everyone suffers!
Clever? Yes.
But more painful than the occasion calls for.
Clever? Yes.
But more painful than the occasion calls for.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
I just want to take a little breather
I've been having a hard time this week. I have no motivation. I have no energy. I have very few moments where two brain cells communicate enough to come up with any "good" thoughts. (note: plenty of dull, lackluster, plain and unastonishing thoughts, but nothing inspiring)
I had a fantastic Sunday ... I had dishes finished, three square meals, clean office, 2009 budget started, bank statements entered in both online checking account and paper register, clean room, multiple loads of laundry done. Christmas decorations put away, and I started patching the various nail holes around the house. Plus two awesome football games to round out Wild Card Weekend ... But the trade off seems to be I get to be miserable the rest of the week.
I shouldn't, be telling you this but there are dishes everywhere! Clean, dirty .... the counter space is becoming seriously limited because I have no interest in putting them away or washing them. Dishes are my downfall. Majorly.
But it's hitting every part of me ...
It takes everything I have to get up in the morning. Damn my bed for being so warm and cozy and comfortable in the morning! Monday I woke up at 7:40 (when I leave at 7:50) because I didn't update my wake up time from that I used during vacation.
Today I vowed that when that alarm went off I would get up, put away dishes, make coffee and eat breakfast. Well wouldn't you know ... I opened my eyes finally at 7 ... well after my alarm went off ... and rolled over for ten more minutes. Gah! The best part? I forgot the coffee I made at home! I got to the office and went to grab my bag and coffee ... and no coffee. So pretty much nothing went right this morning.
Then at 11 this morning I had a big fucking run in my nylons. Come on! I demand to cash in some kharma points.
I feel very sluggish and useless at work. Get one thing done, 12 more things that should have been done last week.
It's too early to have the winter blues because my god there is so much winter left.
And now, of course, my internet music player is being spazzy. That hard to play music? Yeah, I guess so.
Here's hoping for better days ....
I had a fantastic Sunday ... I had dishes finished, three square meals, clean office, 2009 budget started, bank statements entered in both online checking account and paper register, clean room, multiple loads of laundry done. Christmas decorations put away, and I started patching the various nail holes around the house. Plus two awesome football games to round out Wild Card Weekend ... But the trade off seems to be I get to be miserable the rest of the week.
I shouldn't, be telling you this but there are dishes everywhere! Clean, dirty .... the counter space is becoming seriously limited because I have no interest in putting them away or washing them. Dishes are my downfall. Majorly.
But it's hitting every part of me ...
It takes everything I have to get up in the morning. Damn my bed for being so warm and cozy and comfortable in the morning! Monday I woke up at 7:40 (when I leave at 7:50) because I didn't update my wake up time from that I used during vacation.
Today I vowed that when that alarm went off I would get up, put away dishes, make coffee and eat breakfast. Well wouldn't you know ... I opened my eyes finally at 7 ... well after my alarm went off ... and rolled over for ten more minutes. Gah! The best part? I forgot the coffee I made at home! I got to the office and went to grab my bag and coffee ... and no coffee. So pretty much nothing went right this morning.
Then at 11 this morning I had a big fucking run in my nylons. Come on! I demand to cash in some kharma points.
I feel very sluggish and useless at work. Get one thing done, 12 more things that should have been done last week.
It's too early to have the winter blues because my god there is so much winter left.
And now, of course, my internet music player is being spazzy. That hard to play music? Yeah, I guess so.
Here's hoping for better days ....
Friday, January 2, 2009
Copyright Infringement or Restraining Order?
I would like to go on the record and say the "ShamWow" guy on the commercials creeps me out. And the women who say "Sham ... WOW!" should be shot. Seriously.
And, I saw it in Target today. Same price. Not sold in stores? Didn't look like an imitation to me ... and if it was, they should totally sue for copyright infringement.
"Are you following me camera guy?" I wonder, were you following your cues and spots scary man?
And, I saw it in Target today. Same price. Not sold in stores? Didn't look like an imitation to me ... and if it was, they should totally sue for copyright infringement.
"Are you following me camera guy?" I wonder, were you following your cues and spots scary man?
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