Bored Now

We encourage Critter to find non-electronic forms of entertainment whenever possible. Most of the time she just complains about the TV and computer being off limits. Sometimes she surprises us...

Boredom makes the time go stranger...

May the Road Rise to Meet You

I made this for Daisy, my friend and coworker. She’s embarking on a new life-adventure with her boyfriend, and leaving in just a few days. The only way I could think to express what an influence she has been on me in the short time she’s been here was to make her a quilt. One of her favorite colors is orange, and her favorite flower is a daisy, so I named the quilt "Tangerine Daisy." I hope this says it all. Farewell, Daisy. I’ll miss you.

Quilt in progress.

Front Back

On The Map, Next To State Of Confusion

At work my techie coworkers and I have developed a timeline for the campus to move forward with different computer updates. Last summer we updated all school computers to using Internet Explorer 7. Summer of 2008 will see us moving to Office 2007. In January of 2009 we'll begin installing Windows Vista. For now, we are in a holding pattern--running Windows XP updates and keeping our fingers crossed.

Which brings us to Random Work Conversation #34 (after turning on a setting which we thought had turned off over the summer).

Evil PXE to Web Programmer: Hey, the script didn't run.

Web Programmer (who I promise I'll name at some point...): It didn't?

Evil PXE, supressing a chuckle and adopting a stern voice: Damn JewelGeek and her updates! It's put the computers in a state of unworkency!

In Case You Thought We Never Go Anywhere

Ok, so while I was slaving away at work at a two-day summit of fellow coworkers from throughout the company, Critter and JewelGeek took Annie to the beach for the weekend. (And yes, I joined them as soon as I was able.) Here are some delightful shots of the aquarium inhabitants and a few of our delightful visitors...

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la, la!

It's official. I am completely insane. Last weekend, I spent an entire day playing a computer game (about 8 hours' worth; I could hardly walk when I stopped for the night). And while I was happily smooshing CGI monsters, I was also listening to Christmas music. You read correctly - Christmas music.

Every year at about this time, I haul out the Christmas CDs and begin playing them (albeit quietly) in the livingroom while I craft my annual holiday ornament-gifts for my coworkers. Well, one year I started in March and it took all summer to finish up, but that's another entry. Last year, my ornaments completely fell apart before I could even get them out of the house. So this year, I resolved to do something simple, that required no new supplies, and I'd start early enough so if they self-destructed, I'd have time to come up with Plan B.

That meant starting last weekend. Which actually meant Sunday, since I was playing computer games all day Saturday... and I mentioned that already, didn't I??

Critter helped me -- we split out the supplies, and I showed her how to make the ornament, and we went at it. Pretty quickly, we realized an assembly-line style would be more efficient. So I cut squares, she trimmed the squares, then she folded, and I taped.

And Monday, we came back to see that our tape hadn't held, and I'd need to glue the ornaments in place. Oh, and hold them with rubberbands, since they wanted to spring apart. So all week after work, I re-folded and glued all the ornaments.

Then about Wednesday, Critter and I began decorating the ornaments. More glue, lots of ribbon, and some precariously perched ornaments sitting in cans until they dried. Oh, and on Thursday, I found a few more that had come unglued from the earlier attempts to keep them together...

Yesterday (we're on to Saturday now, if you're keeping track at home), we hit the home stretch. All of the trim was on, just needed to finish up a detail that would allow the ornament to be hung. [Sidebar: For my birthday this year, JewelGeek got me a Crop-a-Dile which is this nifty punch that punches holes and sets eyelets that are 1/8 or 3/4 big. I found all kinds of uses for that on this project!] Happily punching and gluing and taping away... I FINISHED all of the ornaments at around 8am this morning. [Did I mention I'm an early riser??]

And then I launched into full swing making the invitations for our annual holiday craft party and cookie bash. We had originally thought we'd host it over Veterans' Weekend, but decided against it. Last year, we held it the weekend before Thanksgiving and had the best turn-out ever. So we're doing that again. Of course, this year we have all of our livingroom furniture in place, so we're not sure where everyone will sit to work on their projects! It will be interesting...

Oh, and the Christmas music is still playing, softly, in the background. I just finished addressing the last invitation, so I really could stop for the night and turn the music off. But I need the inspiration to work on my Christmas cards...

Tuesday's One More Something Else

Random Family Conversation #103

CrafterKat, after finishing her dinner: I need one more something else.*

JewelGeek: No?**

CrafterKat, nodding: Yes. A glass of milk and some Oreos.

JewelGeek, rummaging in kitchen: I don't know... I was told that these were Critter's cookies...

Critter, sighing dramatically: I guess she can have one.

CrafterKat, looking through the tray of cookies: I'll just eat the ones that were made funny. The ones that they didn't put together right.

Critter, sighing again: Are you fingering every one of those cookies?

CrafterKat: No.... But I did lick each one....

Critter, JewelGeek: Ewwwwwww!



Family Encyclopedia Notes:

* One more something else -- The Emperor Penguin's pre-bedtime request after the glass of water and additional story was for "One more something else."

** No -- (noun) means desserts or sweets. When the Golden Poet lived with CrafterKat's parents during college, she would bake cookies. Mr. GoGoGo was trying to lose weight and stay away from sweets. But he cannot resist cookies. He began saying "no" to any suggestion of baking or bringing sweets into the house. We all started calling sweets "No."

Candlelight Debris

A decade ago when CrafterKat and I were in our Celestial Phase, we would routinely go to the little craft showcases over the holidays or visit the outdoor markets on the weekends. We often ended up with little hand-crafted soaps, copper twisty rings with a bead through the center, ceramic pitchers to hold kitchen implements, a bag or article of clothing with stars and moons, or honeycombed candles in bright Christmas colors. On one such trip to the Portland Saturday market, we purchased a candle holder that mounts to the wall. You cleverly put the candle on the little stand and the mirror on the back illuminates the flame. In my mind, this simple wooden plank was, in actuality, a piece of Dark Ages technology and fit our castle home accordingly; if we had more money, I’m sure we would have lined the stairwell with them (to the feast hall bedrooms).


When the Renaissance-skilled crafter unhooked the ever-affordable torch plank from the wall, we noticed why it was so reasonably priced. The mirror on the back of the plank was secured with non-medieval, very twentieth century duct tape. Still, we love this little gem and have it mounted by our bedroom door.


The problem is we rarely remember it is—it is simple ornamentation.


Unless the thirteenth century is thrust upon us as it was Wednesday night.


Six houses in our neighborhood lost power that night. I talked with our neighbors at 7:20 while CrafterKat and Critter were out purchasing items from the Oh-And-My-Teacher-Said-We-Need-This-Too list. “PGE says it will be back on by 7:30,” she told me.


By 8:00, I was lighting candles, including our special duct-taped torch, and combing through the little drawers in our bathroom vanity looking for a hair twisty. Instead, I found a decade of memories and mysteries.


The candlelight was extremely helpful. Or the fact that the darkness was mostly all-encompassing; I had no problem sorting things into Keepers and Keep Not-ers. I tossed lipstick shades I hadn’t worn since before Critter arrived in our lives, suction cups from some failed organizational system that no longer stuck to anything, a single fake ivy leaf from a never-dusted (and therefore tossed) fake plant. An empty bag of razors and an equally empty hotel sewing kit. I amassed a pile of complimentary shampoos, conditioners, and hand lotions for the downstairs guest bathroom.


Box lids with the Clarol hair color I chose three years ago went into the trash. Along with the extra sets of hair coloring plastic gloves that never fit your hands correctly (but might fit the Desert Engineer). Singleton barrettes that had lost their hair mate? Gone. Rusty, dime-sized baby pins? Tossed. Safeway Pharmacy bags, empty of their medication? Chucked. Housing confirmation for a Bella Beach vacation rental? Shredded. The lid to a Feliway jar (as opposed to something from Milliways which would have been in the Keeper pile)? Pitched.


And the memories? I kept those.


Two sheets of paper with scribbled animal doodles from a trip Critter and I took to the coast. A random Tuesday love note. A magazine clipping on how to make a Kir, a Dijon classic beverage. An antique ceramic pin which must have come from my mother. My hospital bracelet from April. The koa wood barrette CrafterKat’s parents gave me from Hawaii.


I’m still uncertain how such an array of things ended up in just three little bathroom drawers. Perhaps it was dark and I couldn’t find a candle.

Tuesday's Menu

Last week was our trek down to Ashland to see some Shakespeare at OSF. After a short, two-day work week, my brain kicked into Long Weekend/Vacation mode. We filled the Tink Tank with suitcases, music, and munchies and hit the back roads to reach Eugene. At Canby, we stopped at the delightful Canby Pub and Grill for a quick dinner.

A really yummy menu and smiling wait staff greeted us. "Our soups for today are Bean and Bacon and Oktoberfest In Summer," she informed us.

"Oh?" I asked, a bit puzzled.

"Yes, it's sauerkraut and weenies." She took our soda order and departed.

I leaned into CrafterKat and murmured, "I think I finally figured out why they aren't serving clam chowder...."

1 CC of Lancombe

Random Family Conversation #422

Critter: I need to find my eyeliner before we go to Ashland. If I don't, I'll just die!

JewelGeek: You'll just die? Do you think hospital emergency rooms see a lot of that?

Critter (laughing): What?

JewelGeek (lowering voice): Nurse, we've got a bad one here. She needs eyeliner! Quick apply Lancombe Smokey Blue!

Critter (laughing): But doctor, we're out of Smokey Blue!

JewelGeek (lowered voice): Then we'll have to improvise! Get some Charcoal Gray!

Critter: Well, that's what I wear!

JewelGeek (admitting her lack of fashion sense): I didn't even know that was a color!

Hogwarts Weekend

Enough said.

Floyd's Looking

As with many families, we have our own set of catch phrases and family sayings that only members of our immediate familial circle understand. Many of them come from a shared love of Bill Cosby monologues, quotes from movies or television shows, or the zinger from some family story we tell again and again.

One such phrase from our Family Encyclopedia comes from CrafterKat's visit to Atlanta. A friend of a friend, chauffeuring her through the various Peach Blossom streets of the city, explained that she sometimes had difficulty coming up with information at the spur of the moment. Like when someone asks you a question and the answer is just in the shadows and you can't verbalize it.

She visualized the process as having a little person running around a huge library in your head, flipping through card catalogues and reference books until he comes up with the answer. Trouble is, he ages at the same rate you do, so sometimes it takes a lot longer to get the answer. The woman named him Floyd and would often say, "Floyd's looking!" when she was ruminating.

Now, to toss in a Bill Cosby line...

"I told you that story so I could tell you this one."

Text of an e-mail in response to "what are you doing?"

To: CrafterKat

From: JewelGeek

Sent: Friday, July 20, 2007

RE: Pig Dog e-mailed! Can he stay with us? Please, please, please?

[...]

The Evil PXE spoke with Microsoft today about Vista licenses.
Oh.
My.
God.

We bought a Volume License from [Local Tech Consortium] which means that we can use one Key for all the licenses we purchased. Fine. Now we have 28 new licenses from Dell. We want to roll those into the one mega-license we bought from [Local Tech Consortium]. Should work just like it did with XP. We’re sort of on the honor system when we buy anything with a Volume License. Dell assured us that we could roll the individual licenses we got with our new machines into the Volume License we had already purchased.

So… Student Intern 1, being the ever so helpful intern he is, installed the [Local Tech Consortium] license of Vista over the Dell license of Vista. He basically wiped the hard drive on a new machine and installed it from scratch. My old computer is sitting in the hallway, unplugged, and to all concerned, is not running Vista. He got an error message saying that the license key he is using wouldn’t work.

So he calls Microsoft with the number Dell gave us.
In the Philippines.
To speak with Floyd.

I’m beginning to think it’s THAT Floyd.

The Evil PXE got on the phone and tried REPEATEDLY to explain what we needed, that applying individual licenses will not work in our environment. We need to be able to image a machine immediately and free up a license so we can install it elsewhere.

Floyd recommended that we uninstall Vista on the old machine. The Evil PXE exploded. "And just how are we supposed to do that? You can't just go into Add/Remove Programs and remove the Operating System... (pause)...Are you a tech? No, I don't think you are because any computer technician would tell you that's not what you do. You erase the hard drive. Which is what we did!"

What if the operating system just failed and we need to re-install the license on the same machine? That’s basically the same thing as was happening in my scenario. My old machine is unplugged but it could have had its hard drive go belly up. How do we instantly re-install the license? And how do we get those 28 new machines rolled into the one we already have?

Floyd’s friend said that the Evil PXE should call another number… Which he gave him… Which the Evil PXE reminded him was the one he already called. In the Philippines. To get to Floyd…

After an hour, the Evil PXE said "screw it" and called [Local Tech Consortium] in Wilsonville, about thirty minutes away. [Local Tech Consortium] apologized profusely and said that the license number he gave us has only 500 activations on it and they’ve all been used up. Several schools in Oregon are doing what we do, trying Vista out on a small set of machines. He has to call someone in Microsoft—Laurie—to have her increase the amount again. Laurie’s on vacation.

“But you can use Montana’s key. No one there is using it yet.”

And so we did.

And it worked.

And we are happy.

The End.

Disneyland Top 10 (Top 3)

And the Top 3...

(read the previous entry first!)

3. PhotoPass – professional photographers stationed throughout both parks; digital photos “beamed” back to a central location; buy all the photos on CD for $50 (and they shoot as many as you want).

2. AstroBlasters – my favorite attraction/ride; cool effects, neato ray guns to keep you coming back time and time again; little green men to worship your sharp-shooting skills.

1. Character Meals – the BEST way to get autographs, take photos, and spend some “quality” time with the characters; all you can eat buffet; kid-friendly and/or health-conscious choices.

Disneyland Top 10

Just back from Disneyland, and still reeling from the crowds, the heat, and the overstimulation. But reviewing our 300+ photos, here are the highlights…

10. Pirates of the Caribbean attraction – the first (and last) ride we take every trip, and many times in between. Even with the “updates” to reflect the movies, it is still an entertaining, imaginative excursion.

9. Pin Trading – an excuse to purchase souvenirs, talk to strangers, and horde your treasure.

8. Fireworks – sentimental journey through the rides and attractions of Disneyland set to pyrotechnics [Um, SUPER cool].

7. Fantasmic – water, laser, music, character spectacle that gets cooler every time I see it.

6. Electrical Parade – still gives me goose bumps and makes me weep with joy.

5. Pirates on Tom Sawyer Island – well-acted, thematic use of the whole island.

4. Aladdin Musical Spectacular – live theatre, updated Genie jokes, and a serious “magic” factor.

(see next post for Top 3)

The Captain

Scott L. Boley
Published: June 6, 2007, Curry County Reporter
March 31, 1948-May 27, 2007

Scott L. Boley, 59, of Gold Beach, passed away May 27, 2007 at his home unexpectedly of undetermined causes.

He was born March 31, 1948 in Klamath Falls, OR; son of Ivan H. "Buck" and Madge (Fitzhugh) Boley. He was raised in Klamath Falls, and graduated from Klamath Union High School in 1966. He attended Portland State University for one year before transferring to Oregon State University where he earned a general Engineering Degree and in 1973, a Masters Degree in Ocean Engineering. While completing his Masters Degree, Scott was employed as a graduate assistant at O.S.U.

On June 13, 1970, he married Dixie Dawn Evans. The couple made their first home in Corvallis while they completed their degrees.

In 1975, they moved to Gold Beach where Scott purchased a fishing boat, the F/V Frances and began his career as a commercial fisherman.

In 1978, their son was born, and the Boleys fished full-time as a family for several years. Scott was still actively employed as a fisherman at the time of his death.

He had served as a Port of Gold Beach Commissioner, a member of the Pacific Fisheries Management Council and a member of the Pacific Marine Conservation Council. He enjoyed fly-fishing, snow skiing, and woodworking.

Scott was an ethical man, and had a strong sense of what was good for the fishing industry, and for the community. He was a creative and irrepressible planter of "idea seeds"; and was forever challenging himself and others to think beyond their paradigms.

Survivors include his wife, Dixie, of Gold Beach; son, Evan T. Boley of Gold Beach; mother, Madge Boley-Walker of Gold Beach; brother and sister-in-law, Vernon and Julie Boley; niece, Charla Boley, and nephews, Brent and Cory Boley of Vancouver, WA.

A Celebration of Scott's life will be held in July at Pistol River Friendship Hall. The family requests any memorials be made to the Curry General Hospital Health Foundation, 94220 Fourth St, Gold Beach, OR 97444, or to Pacific Marine Conservation Council Fish Genetics Scholarship Fund, P.O. Box 59, Astoria OR 97103.

Cutting Chicken

When I moved out of my parents’ house and started living on my own, I was thankful for any money-saving, practical advice and tips. Things like “You only need about an eighth of a scoop of laundry detergent to wash a large load” are not written on the packaging, because, of course, the manufacturer wants you to buy more detergent. But it worked, and saved me a bundle of money.

One of the money-saving tips my dad, Mr. GoGoGo, passed along was how inexpensive whole frying hens are. For about $5 (less, if you watch the ads), you can get an entire chicken. With a slow-cooker, you can cook the whole thing and feast on it for days. Or, you can cut it up yourself, and have the pieces for other sumptuous dishes at a fraction of the price of buying the butcher-cut pieces.

Dad showed me how to cut up a chicken a million times. He got me the fancy filleting knife, with its thin and slender blade that fits neatly between the joints for easy disassembly. He taught me how to remove the skin off the pieces to reduce fat intake. And he’d disinfect the knife, the entire counter, and the cutting board when he was done. I also watched Alton Brown’s episode on cutting up a chicken, too, with the nifty dinosaur skeleton as a visual aid to show joint locations. For a while, I actually hung on to the “how to” pretty well.

I think I’ve cut up 1 or 2 chickens in my day. The fact of the matter is, I think it’s gross. I simply don’t like how it feels between my fingers. I don’t like pulling the skin from the muscle (gross), snapping the leg joint (gross), or even reaching inside the “cavity” for the little baggie of innards neatly packaged so I can throw them away (super gross). Not to mention the carcass. My dad always cooks the carcass for broth – or freezes it to cook for broth later. Um, that means a chicken skeleton in the freezer (gross).

And I’ve discovered a few things about eating chicken, too that made this ritual even less desirable. Once you cut up a chicken, there are still only 2 breasts, 2 backs, and 2 drumsticks. No one eats the wings (too bony), and with the distribution of the parts according to my family’s preferences, I always ended up eating the back (also pretty bleepin’ bony). If I wanted pure, un-bony chicken breast, well, that’s another chicken… So I stopped buying whole fryers and cutting them up myself. The $6 I spend on fresh chicken breasts means I get to eat the good stuff, too, and I don’t have to stick my fingers where the sun don’t shine on dead poultry.

And why is all of this relevant now, you ask?? Well, I’m working on an overall quilt. It’s a quilt made from old jeans – a tradition my grandma started when pristine bolts of fabric were a luxury. She came through the Depression, and learned not to waste the “good” parts of a worn-out pair of jeans. The first step in making an overall quilt, naturally, is to cut up the jeans. I was struck suddenly how similar cutting up the jeans was to cutting up chicken.

Depending on the size of the jeans, in the end, you get 2 breasts (the large front portion from which you can cut the “prime” large squares), 2 backs (the back pocket – bones and maybe some useful meat), 4 drumsticks (strips big enough to cut smaller, clean, no-seam squares), and a couple of wings (strips where a smaller square is possible, if you include a seam). There’s a carcass to toss (the waistband, thick seams, and often the front/back pockets). And some juicy bits that are too small for the main meal, but perfectly good for soup (seamless pieces that could be turned into a strip quilt… but that’s another entry…)

See, Dad, I was paying attention.

The whole "chicken".
The cut-up pieces.
The good bits, too small for the main meal.
The carcasses.

Fractional Bookends

Amidst some sad tidings this week there were some marginal, or rather fractional, observations on Thursday.

As I pulled out of the driveway to take Critter to an early morning choir rehearsal at the high school, I inquired about the progress on her reading book. “How many pages do you think you have left?”

She shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Well, just a rough estimate. 100 pages? 150 pages?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, how much have you read?”

She sighed. “I’m about a quarter of the way through.”

I did some mental calculations. The paperback she was carrying around was roughly 200 pages. 250 tops. And she’d been reading this book for several days, including two hours over the weekend. “Critter….”

“Well, it’s more like a third. I’m about a third of the way.”

I paused.

“More like half.”

Pause.

“I mean, I have about a quarter left in it.”

Pause.

“Enough pages that I’ll finish by June 7th!”

At least Critter has learned her fractions…

That evening at the high school, parents were greeted by over a hundred students from both schools welcoming them to the concert in a lively African song. The band teacher played drums in the front of the stage and the choirs from both schools ringed the back of the auditorium, raising the rafters.

After this rousing welcome, the band teacher brought forth the jazz band who performed the high school standard Witchcraft. It was a small group, not more than a dozen performers, and five of them played saxophone. It was fun to watch and listen but I was a bit distracted by... something. I finally figured it out and sent the following text message to CrafterKat at Intermission:

Is it bad that three different sax players are tapping out 3 dif beats?

The morning after

The morning after the snake proposal, Critter and I were alone in the livingroom. No one else was up, yet. She looked at me, I looked away, and started cleaning the kitchen.

“You know we’re going to say ‘no,’ right?” I said softly.

“Yeah,” she replied equally softly. “Why?”

I thought a moment. A million rational reasons went through my head, as they had the night before when Critter made her dissertation on Why We Should Host the Science Snake for the Summer. Like who was going to clean the mice cage? Who would clean the snake cage? What would we do with the animals while we were on vacations? How could we keep the cats away from the mice and snake? What about the smell?

And even as I formulated my oh-so-logical and completely-calm-and-rational arguments against the proposal, I knew I wouldn’t say any of them. What I DID say was:

“I could sit here and give you a whole list of rational reasons why we can’t have the snake over the summer, but there’s really only one reason that matters: JewelGeek and I don’t like snakes, and we won’t have one in our house.”

“But,” Critter began weakly.

“It’s not a situation you’re going to be able to change, Sweetie,” I said seriously. “We simply don’t like snakes. It’s not rational, but it’s real.”

Critter closed her mouth and nodded. “Okay.” She didn’t even argue. And when JewelGeek got up, Critter didn’t say a word or bring up the snake again. It's not like her to stop fighting, especially if she knows we don't want any part of it. This time, she let us win.

What a great Mother's Day present.

Mother's Day Jasmine

CrafterKat and I had a lovely Mother’s Day Weekend, complete with good food, shoe shopping, and the arrival of a new compound miter saw thingy.

Saturday afternoon Critter had us sit in the living room and close our eyes. When we were told to open them, she stood with paper in hand, partially blocking two vases of spring flowers. I smiled at her thoughtfulness. And she read:

As you may already know, Mizz K. has a snake named Jasmine. Her roommate doesn’t particularly care for snakes and she doesn’t know what to do with jasmine over the summer. Now I know what you’re thinking, “she’s going to ask if she can bring it home for the summer,” and you’re correct!

Having this privilege will give me more responsibility and respect for other people’s property. As well as help me keep my room cleaner!

Some downers about this thought is the fact that JewelGeek may not really like this idea and I can totally see that. Also we will have to have live mice in the house which is another thing for the cats to try to get at. And when I’m gone camping and on vacation with you guys I’ll worry and fret about her and carry on and we possibly may not have a good time.

But please remember I have a friend who lives just up the street and loves reptiles!!!! Cheri knows her way around the house and how to get into the house too!

Now about the food for Jasmine, Mizz K. said she would provide the money for live mice. I can keep them in a well secured cage so they will never be able to get out and we will never smell them because I can clean mouse and rat cages ever so quickly.

So now I hope I have persuaded you to let me take care of Mizz K.’s snake over the summer. Thank you for your time and ears. Any questions I can answer???

Yes. Just one.

Aaaaaaaakkkkkk! Snaaaaaaakkeeeee???!!!!!

Stone Soup

Several days after I had sent that e-mail to the Evil PXE, I found myself in the doctor’s office telling first the nurse and then my physician my symptoms. “It feels like there is a steel stake right through my rib cage,” I finally said, pointing to the middle of my chest. “And I’m not sleeping well.”

After pushing on my stomach (presumably the spot where the gall bladder is located), my doctor agreed to send me for an ultrasound. They’d use this one to compare against the one I had taken previously. Five years ago.

That evening, the scheduling nurse from my doctor’s office called. “I’ll go ahead and call the surgeon on Monday morning.”

“So, I need to have my gall bladder removed?”

“Yes.”

Monday I was told to see the surgeon the following Monday. I spent the week trying to be really good with my diet but ended up having two more attacks during the week. This time, they were occurring in the morning and my lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with me. I called my Mom, the Social Butterfly, to see if she could come up when my surgery actually gets scheduled. She assured me she’d be there but I should try not to set it for June 1st or June 5th as she had appointments on those days. “Well, I figure it will be either be at the end of the month or after our vacation in the middle of June. Shouldn’t be a problem."

Monday came and CrafterKat and I left for the early morning meeting with the surgeon. I explained my symptoms to the nurse. Then the Surgeon-In-Training. Then finally the doctor. He came in with an old 50’s textbook with illustrations of the gall bladder and how they would remove the broken organ. “It’s moderately distended and should come out soon. Have you eaten anything today?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Great. I have an opening at 3pm today.”

Um… Wait… TODAY?

I called my Mom when I got home. “What are you doing today, Mom?”

She paused, piecing the clues together and finally yelled, “Today?! TODAY?!”

I called work and informed my co-worker that I’d be out the rest of the week. My mother arrived a few hours later and drove me to the hospital. When we found Admitting, the nice lady there had me on her list. “What are you here for?”

“Gall bladder.”

“Oh. A mumble-mumble-oscopy?”

“I don’t know… They’re removing my gall bladder.”

“Oh, we get those and colonoscopies all the time. You sure you don’t want one of those, too? A 2-for-1 deal?”

I assured her I didn’t.

Needless to say, the surgery went well but I don’t really remember anything after being wheeled into the operating room and sliding over onto the thin bed. I awoke, curled up on my side, to my Mom’s voice.

I found out later that the surgery had taken longer than expected as I had lots of adhesions and a hazelnut sized stone in one of the ducts. The rest of the week was spent in a Vicadin haze, eating soup and jello, and snuggling cats who couldn’t understand why they couldn’t flob across my tummy as usual.

Thanks to all my friends and family for their kind thoughts, help, and numerous flowers. I’m very happy to be back at work and in good health!

Papa was a rolling stone

Been a bit quiet on the blog front... But there's been a reason. Here's an e-mail I sent to the Evil PXE a few weeks back.

To: Evil PXE
From: JewelGeek
Sent: Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Subject: Just a heads up...

Hey Evil PXE,

I believe I'm losing the war with my gall bladder...

I don't know if you remember, but my doctor diagnosed me with having gall stones a few years back. He said surgery wasn't really an option at the time because I didn't have very many and I should be able to control the gall bladder attacks (vicious gas bubbles that made me want to puke or caused me such pain in my chest that I thought an alien was going to pop out) with a better diet. I did that and it helped.

I got to the point where I could sort of tell when I'd reached my 'bad food' threshold--I'd cut back or not eat the troubling foods and I'd be fine, staving off another attack. I can't eat Nonna's pizza, for example, unless I've been very, very good. Now it's sort of all pizza in general. Sigh.

I've had at least three gall bladder attacks in a week. Last night I was lucky to get about four hours sleep. And I woke up twice from that when I discovered that one of the new cats had peed on my comforter.

I'm weary. I'm tired. And I'm in a lot of pain.

I'm going to call the doctor's office when I get in and get an appointment to talk to him about my gall bladder. Once you have gall stones, he told me, the organ is pretty much broken. I'm thinking that we're beyond the diet phase of fixing it. That leaves surgery. Which I'm scared to death he might recommend.

If he doesn't recommend that, then it's back to diet and I'll still be miserable. Diets and me don't tend to last very long.

I'll see you in a bit.

Burping,

JewelGeek