Well, we went clean up to Toronto this week and TOTALLY skipped the 6 letterboxes in town, as well as didn't plant one while we were there! Argghhh!
We have a good reason, though. My dad sent us my grandmother from Florida and money to show her a good time and we've been doing just that She's been up here visiting us for a few days now and just having a ball. She's 83 years old and recovering from a spill she had in February, so she's moving slower than usual, but she's keeping up the pace pretty well, with the exception of stairs. While we were in Toronto heading to the subway, she was coming down stairs and going one step, one step, one step, etc. when all the sudden, this OTHER old lady, shorter than her and older, comes flying down the steps past her! She gave this lady a look so crooked as to be mistaken for a jealous 5 year old! I look back at her and, like a mom, tell her in a gentle voice, "It's NOT a race, honey," before we both crack up laughing.
She's also where I (the Sprite) get my goofy sense of humor from. We were sitting on the sofa all relaxed after that long trip to Toronto when Foggy (our youngest cat) jumps up on her lap. She tries to pet her, but Foggy can't sit still when you pet her unless you MAKE her, so she's doing her little ADD dance all over her while Shug (my grandmother) tries to make her happy. Finally, she goes "What is WRONG with you, cat? What do you WANT?" in her little soft Southern accent.
I pipe up with "She likes it when you scratch her more than just petting her."
She says "Well, now why didn't you just SAY all that, cat?" and starts doing it.
Meanwhile, Kevin (the Highlander) goes, "You know what she DOESN'T like?" With a totally straight face he goes, "She doesn't like it when you attach jumper cables up to her ears and attach her to a battery. She doesn't like that at ALL." I laugh to beat the band, but Shug looks at him all serious and we're thinking "D'oh, we went too far."
Finally after looking at him for an uncomfortably long moment, she says, "Exactly when was the last time you TRIED something like this?" Kevin is about to say he was just kidding or something and she adds, with an equally straight face "She might LIKE it now!" as if enough time has passed that our cat might ENJOY being electrocuted!
Man, I LOVE the way the nuts just float to the top in my little gene pool! Apples really don't fall too far from the tree! :-D
Anyway, at some point we really WILL get back to boxing, but for now, I think I'll hang out a bit more with the granny and get back to you all after the holidays. In case we don't hear from any of you, have a great New Year and enjoy those shirts!
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Sunday, November 12, 2006
My Underoos Shame
Alright...it's time I came out of the toon closet...
Like the commerical said, Underoos WERE fun to wear and they WERE something super new in underwear. I had not only the Supergirl Underoos, but the Wonder Woman ones. Now, the Supergirl ones just had the red panties with a pic of Supergirl on the shirt, but the Wonder Woman Underoos were the full deal...a red tank top shirt with the golden bird on it and the blue panties with the big white stars. Seriously, the only thing stopping me from looking like was Wonder Woman was not having the crown, the lasso and the armbands (oh, and being a 4 foot something 11 year old African American girl instead of being Lynda Carter, but other than that, I was a dead ringer!).
Did I mention I was 11 years old?
Anyway, my mother commanded me to NOT wear these under my clothes at school and I was really bent out of shape that she would say this. She was forever telling me I couldn't do things without reasons why beyond "Because I said so" and I was CERTAIN this was just one more in the series, since wearing Underoos was what all 11 year old girls did (forgetting entirely that all girls my age were begging to wear makeup and training bras, not racing boys on their bikes through the neighborhood).
After a long battle which ended in my tears and her not wavering, my dad came in and tried to convince me that if I wore these to school (especially since I had to change for gym that day), the girls at my school would definitely laugh at me. I still wouldn't buy it, so my dad sighed and said "Okay, go ahead, hon. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Remember the tampon scene in Carrie?
Okay, picture that (girls coming from all over the locker room to point and laugh), but without the tampons and blood and stuff and THAT was the scene when I busted out my Underoos in the locker room that day.
Years (of therapy) later, I've come to realize that parents sometimes DO know what's best, but 11 year old girls DON'T.
After all, what but sheer jealous rage could have driven those girls to be so mean? ;-)
Like the commerical said, Underoos WERE fun to wear and they WERE something super new in underwear. I had not only the Supergirl Underoos, but the Wonder Woman ones. Now, the Supergirl ones just had the red panties with a pic of Supergirl on the shirt, but the Wonder Woman Underoos were the full deal...a red tank top shirt with the golden bird on it and the blue panties with the big white stars. Seriously, the only thing stopping me from looking like was Wonder Woman was not having the crown, the lasso and the armbands (oh, and being a 4 foot something 11 year old African American girl instead of being Lynda Carter, but other than that, I was a dead ringer!).
Did I mention I was 11 years old?
Anyway, my mother commanded me to NOT wear these under my clothes at school and I was really bent out of shape that she would say this. She was forever telling me I couldn't do things without reasons why beyond "Because I said so" and I was CERTAIN this was just one more in the series, since wearing Underoos was what all 11 year old girls did (forgetting entirely that all girls my age were begging to wear makeup and training bras, not racing boys on their bikes through the neighborhood).
After a long battle which ended in my tears and her not wavering, my dad came in and tried to convince me that if I wore these to school (especially since I had to change for gym that day), the girls at my school would definitely laugh at me. I still wouldn't buy it, so my dad sighed and said "Okay, go ahead, hon. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Remember the tampon scene in Carrie?
Okay, picture that (girls coming from all over the locker room to point and laugh), but without the tampons and blood and stuff and THAT was the scene when I busted out my Underoos in the locker room that day.
Years (of therapy) later, I've come to realize that parents sometimes DO know what's best, but 11 year old girls DON'T.
After all, what but sheer jealous rage could have driven those girls to be so mean? ;-)
Thursday, July 6, 2006
Know how to protest?
One of the boards I post at got into the normal 4th of July heated debate over flag burning ('cause seriously, what board DOESN'T have some yutz coming out strongly for or against it on Independence Day so everyone gets all pissed off???) Somebody posted this, as if to end the whole debate:
"We all need to remember that our liberties are only ours until they infringe or offend others!!!!"
So, I replied with this:
Actually, that's NOT true. Being offended by something is not enough to make it legally stop BECAUSE of freedom of speech. That's why the KKK is allowed to recruit for members on the sidewalks of of several different states to this DAY and I can't do a damn thing about it. It's also why other people are allowed to protest AGAINST the KKK sitting on the sidewalk until they get embarrassed enough to leave.
However, the moment the KKK decides to burn a cross on my lawn or somewhere else where I can see it, it's a threat of violence (based on what it's always meant in the past) and THAT'S why it's against the law, just like what Booknut said about murder not being under freedom of expression. That's why hate crimes were put into law, not because they would offend other races & creeds, but because there is ALWAYS the threat of real violence involved. Burning a flag is offensive to some, but it has always been a symbol of nonviolent protest.
I think the problem in America is that we always want someone else to handle our business rather than confront it ourselves. Somewhere in the 80's, we stopped going out and protesting ourselves and starting demanding that the government step in for us. If you don't like flag burning, why not just go up to that flag burner with a whole bunch of your friends and peacefully protest against it? Or, heck, TALK to this flag burner and see what he's thinking! What if this flag burner was someone who'd fought for this country and been forgotten? What if this flag burner had lost family in the civil rights movement and still sees discrimination in his America? What if this flag burner is a Native American whose heritage and dignity have been entirely stripped by the "American dream"?
America simply doesn't offer the same comforts to everyone and it CAN'T, not by laws, anyway. Too many people have different attitudes and opinions to force them to think your way just by taking a vote and passing a bill. You CAN, however, move LOTS of people with numbers in non violent protest. It takes more time and effort, but anything worth doing is worth doing well. Our whole COUNTRY is founded on the belief that you can protest...remember, most of us came here out of protest or fleeing from OTHER countries that REALLY wouldn't let you have your say.
So, stop waiting for your government to help you...get out there and give those you disagree with a reason to believe in what you say...go make eye contact and talk about what ails you and listen to what ails them, if you're REALLY this upset. Posting to websites in an overzealous way only aggravates tensions and makes no real difference in anyone's approach...just strengthens their resolve to keep their own opinion safe.
In which case, it's probably pretty stupid for me to have posted this anyway! :-)
Then they came back with this part:
Most Vietnam vets I know are dead-set against desecration of the flag. Their country sent them there to protect the freedoms we take so casually. What they were angry about was those folks who didn't give them the respect that they deserved for DOING what their country asked.
So, I replied again with this:
Conversely, most of the vets I know were angry that their country sent them there in the first place because they didn't feel they were protecting us or our rights at all and they lost close friends and family over it. On top of that, there was still less respect given to vets of color at the time and more likelihood they would be sent to the front line, so there's a whole other level of problems inherent with that. Oh, and let's not forget the wars in which Asian Americans have helped out, only to have their families thrown into internment camps. No one can be right or wrong about their personal experiences with this country and what it's meant to them.
It really still reinforces the point I was making...we only meet a limited amount of people in our lives, so we don't always get the full picture of what America is. We've had just as much to pat ourselves on the back for as we've had to kick ourselves in the butt for in this country, so not everyone who lives here has had the same positive feelings about this place. Still, it's all part of America and what that flag stands for, even (and especially) the crappy parts. Just because we know a bunch of people with a certain opinion, we can't claim right or wrong on what America means and what the flag stands for for others. With the good comes the bad.
So, you COULD look at a flag burning as being the burning of what's negative, not what's positive about this country...then you'd have to find out why that person burned the flag and what made life in this country bad for him/her and address THAT need instead of the surface offense of flag burning. Imagine what good we could do in this country if people did that more often...found out WHY a person did something and helped them through that pain or injustice before condemning them for the act alone. Now THAT would be an America to always be proud of!
Haven't heard a thing since! :-)
"We all need to remember that our liberties are only ours until they infringe or offend others!!!!"
So, I replied with this:
Actually, that's NOT true. Being offended by something is not enough to make it legally stop BECAUSE of freedom of speech. That's why the KKK is allowed to recruit for members on the sidewalks of of several different states to this DAY and I can't do a damn thing about it. It's also why other people are allowed to protest AGAINST the KKK sitting on the sidewalk until they get embarrassed enough to leave.
However, the moment the KKK decides to burn a cross on my lawn or somewhere else where I can see it, it's a threat of violence (based on what it's always meant in the past) and THAT'S why it's against the law, just like what Booknut said about murder not being under freedom of expression. That's why hate crimes were put into law, not because they would offend other races & creeds, but because there is ALWAYS the threat of real violence involved. Burning a flag is offensive to some, but it has always been a symbol of nonviolent protest.
I think the problem in America is that we always want someone else to handle our business rather than confront it ourselves. Somewhere in the 80's, we stopped going out and protesting ourselves and starting demanding that the government step in for us. If you don't like flag burning, why not just go up to that flag burner with a whole bunch of your friends and peacefully protest against it? Or, heck, TALK to this flag burner and see what he's thinking! What if this flag burner was someone who'd fought for this country and been forgotten? What if this flag burner had lost family in the civil rights movement and still sees discrimination in his America? What if this flag burner is a Native American whose heritage and dignity have been entirely stripped by the "American dream"?
America simply doesn't offer the same comforts to everyone and it CAN'T, not by laws, anyway. Too many people have different attitudes and opinions to force them to think your way just by taking a vote and passing a bill. You CAN, however, move LOTS of people with numbers in non violent protest. It takes more time and effort, but anything worth doing is worth doing well. Our whole COUNTRY is founded on the belief that you can protest...remember, most of us came here out of protest or fleeing from OTHER countries that REALLY wouldn't let you have your say.
So, stop waiting for your government to help you...get out there and give those you disagree with a reason to believe in what you say...go make eye contact and talk about what ails you and listen to what ails them, if you're REALLY this upset. Posting to websites in an overzealous way only aggravates tensions and makes no real difference in anyone's approach...just strengthens their resolve to keep their own opinion safe.
In which case, it's probably pretty stupid for me to have posted this anyway! :-)
Then they came back with this part:
Most Vietnam vets I know are dead-set against desecration of the flag. Their country sent them there to protect the freedoms we take so casually. What they were angry about was those folks who didn't give them the respect that they deserved for DOING what their country asked.
So, I replied again with this:
Conversely, most of the vets I know were angry that their country sent them there in the first place because they didn't feel they were protecting us or our rights at all and they lost close friends and family over it. On top of that, there was still less respect given to vets of color at the time and more likelihood they would be sent to the front line, so there's a whole other level of problems inherent with that. Oh, and let's not forget the wars in which Asian Americans have helped out, only to have their families thrown into internment camps. No one can be right or wrong about their personal experiences with this country and what it's meant to them.
It really still reinforces the point I was making...we only meet a limited amount of people in our lives, so we don't always get the full picture of what America is. We've had just as much to pat ourselves on the back for as we've had to kick ourselves in the butt for in this country, so not everyone who lives here has had the same positive feelings about this place. Still, it's all part of America and what that flag stands for, even (and especially) the crappy parts. Just because we know a bunch of people with a certain opinion, we can't claim right or wrong on what America means and what the flag stands for for others. With the good comes the bad.
So, you COULD look at a flag burning as being the burning of what's negative, not what's positive about this country...then you'd have to find out why that person burned the flag and what made life in this country bad for him/her and address THAT need instead of the surface offense of flag burning. Imagine what good we could do in this country if people did that more often...found out WHY a person did something and helped them through that pain or injustice before condemning them for the act alone. Now THAT would be an America to always be proud of!
Haven't heard a thing since! :-)
Tuesday, July 4, 2006
Vanity, thy name is EXTENSIONS (or some other hair thing!)
Okay, I don't see how it's possible for ANY woman to not become entirely focused on a mirror when they do dramatic changes to their hair.
As a rule, I usually avoid doing things like makeup, pushup bras and coloring my hair because I like to look the way God intended me to look (we'll see how well such free spirited hippy thoughts last me into my 60's and 70's when the line between boobs and knees blurs heavily, but for NOW...!). I get my hair relaxed because I can't do anything with it when it'a all thick in its nature Native American/afro style, but that's really about as far as I go.
Until last week.
Last week I went to my hairdresser (whom I adore so much, I created a stamp for her) and she had a ponytail. Now, most black women really can't get their hair that long, but I'm dumb enough to believe anything (being a hardcore tomboy), so I'm like "Oh, cool! I so want my hair to get that long so I can do the "Marsha, Marsha, MARSHA" thing Jan does in the Brady Bunch."
She laughed at me and went into her psuedo-commercial voice: "Well, now you, too can have the hair of your dreams...just BUY it!" Then she pulls the hair out...and it's added hair! I'm not up enough on all this glamor talk to say if this qualified as extensions, a weave, whatever, but it was very natural looking and really cute...which meant immediately that I couldn't do it because I can't KEEP things looking cute for more than a day after I leave the shop.
She was really onto the idea of my having one, though, 'cause she told me how easy it was to care for and how once I bought the hair, it was mine, so I could do anything I wanted with it. Once it started sounding like a fun dress-up thing instead of dumb girly-girl work, I started warming to the idea (and before I could change my mind, her assistant rushed out to buy some hair).
So now I have this ponytail that makes me look more like the Native American side of me than the African American...and it really does make me look skinnier than before. I like the way it looks, but now I SWEAR I can't pass a mirror without playing with it! As it stands, I tried on every outfit I liked (lingerie included!) to see the effect with longer hair. I'm thoroughly ashamed, totally self abosrbed and I DON'T care. Like Narcisuss, I could DIE in front of the mirror, so long as the hair sweeps gently over my shoulder in a sort of sexy "come hither while I DIE" sort of way! Kevin isn't helping 'cause he actually likes the way it looks, so he'll let me come in with some new outfit or hair position for the ponytail and "ooo" and "ahh" appropriately.
See, THIS is how it starts! First, it's just a little extra HAIR, then it's a press on nail or two and the next thing you know, I'll be selling my body for extensions and collecting barber shop clippings to make new bangs to replace the ones I'll fry off with the gold highlights I'll have tried to add in myself...AUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!
I can't stay...I gotta go (sigh) brush it out again...!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Reeling In The Years
I just realized something about my past...I don't have folks to share it with.
Let me make sure I don't make anyone feel like crap here...it's not like I don't have friends and a wonderful husband to tell my story to, but none of them were THERE! Like I can't turn to Kevin and say, "Hey, remember how we used to have bike races up Taos Drive all the time?" because he wasn't with me when I did it. My younger brother was there, but his memory's not that great anymore and he wasn't involved in most of the stuff I did, except during the summer. Those fond memories of school that people have...I have some pretty limited ones. Most have to do with starting a new school, turning into a minor social pariah at that school and limited memories of folks that DID talk with me back in those days. (sigh)
I think if I had lived in the same area longer, or kept contact better when we moved, I'd at least have the ability to remember the better moments instead of just the rotten or the really strong memories. I mean, as good as I like to believe my capacity to remember things is, there's something to be said for having friends to rehash that info with. If you do't retell it a few times, you kinda forget how it happened, or you forget it entirely.
Which brings me to my latest discovery...I've found some more folks I hung out with back in high school as of late. Early in my late 20's, a few people found me online and told me that they were sorry we hadn't been better friends, but they thought I was nice and hoped I was doing well. That kind cooled my hatred of school life to at least a level where I started to think that maybe I had more friends than I realized. Now it seems the folks I'm connecting with are actual people whose company I DID enjoy, so I'm getting a little taste of that "remember when?" feeling.
It's really cool to hear things that you lived through from another person's point of view (like I love listening to Kevin's talk about how he and I met!). It kind of rounds out the view you had in your mind and almost validates the experience for you a little...like, "Yeah, that really DID happen!" Even more weird is seeing that I wasn't as big a social pariah as I thought...I just didn't have the world's best opinion of myself (which has totally changed because I am AWESOME now!) LOL
Anyway, so much for the "woe is me" part...I think I'm going to spend a bit more time this summer actively seeking out high school classmates so I can reconnect with my own past...after all, it apparently didn't suck as much as I thought, so what the heck! :-)
Let me make sure I don't make anyone feel like crap here...it's not like I don't have friends and a wonderful husband to tell my story to, but none of them were THERE! Like I can't turn to Kevin and say, "Hey, remember how we used to have bike races up Taos Drive all the time?" because he wasn't with me when I did it. My younger brother was there, but his memory's not that great anymore and he wasn't involved in most of the stuff I did, except during the summer. Those fond memories of school that people have...I have some pretty limited ones. Most have to do with starting a new school, turning into a minor social pariah at that school and limited memories of folks that DID talk with me back in those days. (sigh)
I think if I had lived in the same area longer, or kept contact better when we moved, I'd at least have the ability to remember the better moments instead of just the rotten or the really strong memories. I mean, as good as I like to believe my capacity to remember things is, there's something to be said for having friends to rehash that info with. If you do't retell it a few times, you kinda forget how it happened, or you forget it entirely.
Which brings me to my latest discovery...I've found some more folks I hung out with back in high school as of late. Early in my late 20's, a few people found me online and told me that they were sorry we hadn't been better friends, but they thought I was nice and hoped I was doing well. That kind cooled my hatred of school life to at least a level where I started to think that maybe I had more friends than I realized. Now it seems the folks I'm connecting with are actual people whose company I DID enjoy, so I'm getting a little taste of that "remember when?" feeling.
It's really cool to hear things that you lived through from another person's point of view (like I love listening to Kevin's talk about how he and I met!). It kind of rounds out the view you had in your mind and almost validates the experience for you a little...like, "Yeah, that really DID happen!" Even more weird is seeing that I wasn't as big a social pariah as I thought...I just didn't have the world's best opinion of myself (which has totally changed because I am AWESOME now!) LOL
Anyway, so much for the "woe is me" part...I think I'm going to spend a bit more time this summer actively seeking out high school classmates so I can reconnect with my own past...after all, it apparently didn't suck as much as I thought, so what the heck! :-)
Friday, June 9, 2006
Three Ring Medical Circus Update
So many of you have inquired about our well being and sent us words of encouragement that I thought I should update you all on how we're doing. A few months ago, we were being told that our first pregnancy (after trying for 5+ years) wasn't working out and that we'd have to scrap everything and start over. Needless to say, it was a rough time, complicated by work troubles for both the Highlander and I (him missing work days because of the two herniated discs & stanosis in his neck and me just not enjoying my work the way I used to). Money was tight and our situation looked like a Dickens novel for a while (full of misery, woe and longwinded explanations!).
However, things have improved considerably. We left our fertility specialist Dr. Sperazza (who was a evil sprite-wing plucking brownie/troll), then had a successful and very easy D & C procedure to start all over again. We tried to go to another doctor, only to find out that he was retiring. That would have been enough to sink the ship if his nurse hadn't heard our story and told us we were one of MANY couples that had left Dr. Evil...er, Sperazza. She gave us the number of a wonderful nurse practicioner in our area who's taken us in without any delay. We'll start the process over again within the next few weeks!
Kevin (the Highlander) will FINALLY get to see a neurosurgeon about his neck at the end of this month, but the crippling pain he was having earlier seems to have gotten better after doing some of the physical therapy they recommended...in fact, I seem to have pulled his neck back into at least a tolerable position during one session, so he's been able to take less heavy meds and go to work.
School's almost out and I'll be returning to a regular classroom in the fall, so my world will go back to its normal 4th grade predictability again. But, as Dorothy says "If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"
Anyway, thanks again to all of you who sent us kind words, gifts and other support to help us through the rough patch. The sun is peeking out again and we're seeing light at the end of the tunnel because of wonderful folks like you to lean on!
However, things have improved considerably. We left our fertility specialist Dr. Sperazza (who was a evil sprite-wing plucking brownie/troll), then had a successful and very easy D & C procedure to start all over again. We tried to go to another doctor, only to find out that he was retiring. That would have been enough to sink the ship if his nurse hadn't heard our story and told us we were one of MANY couples that had left Dr. Evil...er, Sperazza. She gave us the number of a wonderful nurse practicioner in our area who's taken us in without any delay. We'll start the process over again within the next few weeks!
Kevin (the Highlander) will FINALLY get to see a neurosurgeon about his neck at the end of this month, but the crippling pain he was having earlier seems to have gotten better after doing some of the physical therapy they recommended...in fact, I seem to have pulled his neck back into at least a tolerable position during one session, so he's been able to take less heavy meds and go to work.
School's almost out and I'll be returning to a regular classroom in the fall, so my world will go back to its normal 4th grade predictability again. But, as Dorothy says "If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"
Anyway, thanks again to all of you who sent us kind words, gifts and other support to help us through the rough patch. The sun is peeking out again and we're seeing light at the end of the tunnel because of wonderful folks like you to lean on!
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Baby afterward
Wow...
I can see why at age 36, I'm not supposed to stay up late anymore. I'm actually hung over from lack of sleep.
For those of you following the story, the crappy doctor is out of our lives and now so is the baby (via the surgery I had this weekend). This is not a bad thing...in fact, it's probably the biggest relief in my world right now, aside from going back to the classroom next year.
Before we did this D & C procedure, I had another ultrasound to see if Dr. Sperrazza was actually wrong, but I have to admit...no matter how wrong he's ever been about attitude and bedside manner, he's NEVER been wrong about a diagnosis. The ultrasound showed nothing there anymore (no baby, just a little yolk sac that the baby would have been attached to), so I finally decided it was okay to do the D & C and get everything out of there. Had there still been even the smallest little fragment of a person, it would have felt like an abortion of my firstborn and that would have been too hard to take.
Plus, I think this actually made it so I could understand what all the doctors were trying to tell me. Even though I was pregnant and we were all calling a baby, it wasn't really a baby yet. It really was cells that had started to develop, but (because God likes to be merciful) didn't develop because the sequence of chromosomes and all that wasn't right. Had I had a baby, it would have been something cruel and unusual, so my body did what it was supposed to. I ahve no idea how long it would have taken my body to get rid of everything on its own, but seeing as how that would have meant a VERY heavy period with VERY bad cramps, I was all ABOUT surgery!
Had it done Saturday EARLY (went to bed around midnight, got up at 4:30am to be at the hospital at 6am to have an 8am surgery) and because of the drugs and such, I'm still in a weird sleep schedule. I didn't go to sleep until almost 4 last night, but I got up at 10 again. So now I feel really off, but that's almost gone, too.
Anyway, more to post once I get back on the normal sleep wagon...!
I can see why at age 36, I'm not supposed to stay up late anymore. I'm actually hung over from lack of sleep.
For those of you following the story, the crappy doctor is out of our lives and now so is the baby (via the surgery I had this weekend). This is not a bad thing...in fact, it's probably the biggest relief in my world right now, aside from going back to the classroom next year.
Before we did this D & C procedure, I had another ultrasound to see if Dr. Sperrazza was actually wrong, but I have to admit...no matter how wrong he's ever been about attitude and bedside manner, he's NEVER been wrong about a diagnosis. The ultrasound showed nothing there anymore (no baby, just a little yolk sac that the baby would have been attached to), so I finally decided it was okay to do the D & C and get everything out of there. Had there still been even the smallest little fragment of a person, it would have felt like an abortion of my firstborn and that would have been too hard to take.
Plus, I think this actually made it so I could understand what all the doctors were trying to tell me. Even though I was pregnant and we were all calling a baby, it wasn't really a baby yet. It really was cells that had started to develop, but (because God likes to be merciful) didn't develop because the sequence of chromosomes and all that wasn't right. Had I had a baby, it would have been something cruel and unusual, so my body did what it was supposed to. I ahve no idea how long it would have taken my body to get rid of everything on its own, but seeing as how that would have meant a VERY heavy period with VERY bad cramps, I was all ABOUT surgery!
Had it done Saturday EARLY (went to bed around midnight, got up at 4:30am to be at the hospital at 6am to have an 8am surgery) and because of the drugs and such, I'm still in a weird sleep schedule. I didn't go to sleep until almost 4 last night, but I got up at 10 again. So now I feel really off, but that's almost gone, too.
Anyway, more to post once I get back on the normal sleep wagon...!
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Three Ring Medical Circus
Well, it's more official. We've been told the baby isn't developing and that we should get rid of it using a D & C procedure. We told many of you about this on the New York boxing boards at AQ and Yahoo, but the part we haven't talked about has been the insane doctor we've been dealing with.
The man has been an insensitive lout from the beginning, blowing off my questions when I ask them (as in "what should I be eating?" and he gives me one news article on not eating soft cheeses), minimizing any pain or discomfort I've told him about (I told him I thought I had a hernia, which to this DAY still looks like a Super Ball sitting up under my skin near my pelvic join, and he told me we "can't worry about that right now, hon"), completely downplaying any hope that we get ("oh, those pregnancy tests can read false positives quite a bit...don't read too much into that, honey") and, finally, telling us we needed this D & C ("Yeah, I don't see a heartbeat today, so let's try again on Friday and schedule a D & C for next Tuesday."). Oh, and CALLING ME HONEY! He lives WAY too far above the Mason Dixon line to get away with that!
The first day of all this recent trauma, it took 3 people to find the baby, my ovaries were so swollen and sore, and when they did find it, I was crying openly in pain. He suggested a second ultrasound and the D & C in the same breath. The second day (when we had the ultrasound and could see that the yolk sac had gotten smaller and KNEW we were in trouble) we decided we'd had enough of his treating me like a thing and decided to talk to him about it. At first, we were just going to go to another doctor for the D & C, but the nurses suggested we talk to him about how we felt instead. "He needs to know he can't treat people this way!" one of them said. "And you're not the first to say it about him, either!"
So, when we sat in his office Friday and tried telling him that we really needed him to be a little less blunt and abrupt with us (after all, we've tried for 5 years and he knows how hard this must be), we weren't attacking him. We didn't have it IN us to attack him with all that we knew about the baby. Even still, he jumped to the defensive and said, "Well, I can't change my personality and if you two decide to quit, then shame on you for not continuing this process."
No, really, he actually SAID that! We hadn't decided to quit at ALL, we just wanted him to understand our discomfort and were asking him to be gentle with us.
I flared up and said, "Or maybe GOOD for us that we'd go and find a doctor who'd treat me like a human being with feelings instead of a defective machine!" He basically blew that off, too and acted like our problem was with the D & C, not his ever-so-delightful bedside manner.
Well, after that, we went to our regular OB/Gyn and after the office staff said she wasn't in, they called her at home to tell her about what was going on. She actually met with us on her day off at her office! She did what he should have done...she told us that 40% of the first pregnancies are lost and that most women don't even know it, told us about chromosomes and how things really had to be JUST right to make sure the baby would turn out right, and most importantly, that we did NOTHING wrong. Honestly, you guys, I thought I had killed the baby myself with pizza the weekend before and by lifting heavy bags. Kevin thought he should have been more vigilant about my diet and what I was carrying.
"If it were that easy to get rid of a baby," our OB/GYN smiled, "don't you think there'd be a run on junk food and heavy bags right now and a considerable lack of abortions?" And, just like that, we knew she was right and we actually both smiled. All that confusion with the doctor and what we really needed was a minor therapy session! I cried and she hugged us both and told us to change doctors right away. "He's getting paid enough to at least be nice to you," she growled.
So that led to yesterday (Monday). Kevin called and asked to change doctors in a polite way. The office person said she couldn't do that and directed us to (horror!) the SAME doctor. Kinda like having a rape victim talk to the rapist about their difficulties, really! Anyway, Kevin let him know that it was not a personal matter, we just understood what he said about not being able to change his personality. We couldn't do that, either, and we just wanted to find the least stressful way to handle all this. We thought we'd be doing him a favor by asking to switch to one of the other doctors in the office.
The guy LOST it! "Well, we doctors have rights, too! We don't need to be stressed out, either!" I wasn't on the phone, but my husband said he couldn't believe his ears. I mean, WHO CARES what he was feeling about this? He has pictures of his 4 beautiful children all over his office and we've tried for 5 years to get ONE, only to run into him and his "feelings". Plus, when we first talked to him on Friday, that would have been a GREAT time to fix everyone's hurt feelings, but he wasn't willing to do that...couldn't change his personality (something I KNOW was a lie because I've seen him be nice and personable to other patients, even to me, as long as the intern is in the room). I've never in my life had a professional act in such a way. I, as a teacher, would never act this way. I wouldn't tell a parent "Well, your kid makes me mad, too, so there!" even if the kid really DID drive me crazy. It's...well, childish and whiny and I'm the adult, right?
So, Kevin said what I was thinking, which was "I guess I don't see how our leaving would upset you, since you're saying this causes you stress." The doctor changed the subject and demanded to know wo was doing our D & C. Kevin said that our doctor had suggested someone and before he could say more, the doctor said, "Well, call me back when that's over and we'll talk...I have to go now, goodbye!" and HUNG UP!
So, this has been one of those weird things that's so messed up, it's actually funny. I know we'll get through this and we'll get another doctor, but I figured I blog about it so people in the same situation know you DO have rights. You do NOT have to see the same doctor. You can choose any other in the same office. We're planning on asking one of the other specialists to take our case, but if they feel strongly about it because of the jerk we're dealing with, I won't put them in that position. We'll just go to another office entirely (which is also our choice and right).
No matter what, though...do NOT let some professional make you feel like you don't matter. A fertility specialist SHOULD care about your needs and should be able to counsel you a little we you need it. It's a stressful time and a hard enough situation without you having to fight for fair treatment. Take it from us...you DON'T have to put up with it and there ARE nicer, more caring doctors in this world!
The man has been an insensitive lout from the beginning, blowing off my questions when I ask them (as in "what should I be eating?" and he gives me one news article on not eating soft cheeses), minimizing any pain or discomfort I've told him about (I told him I thought I had a hernia, which to this DAY still looks like a Super Ball sitting up under my skin near my pelvic join, and he told me we "can't worry about that right now, hon"), completely downplaying any hope that we get ("oh, those pregnancy tests can read false positives quite a bit...don't read too much into that, honey") and, finally, telling us we needed this D & C ("Yeah, I don't see a heartbeat today, so let's try again on Friday and schedule a D & C for next Tuesday."). Oh, and CALLING ME HONEY! He lives WAY too far above the Mason Dixon line to get away with that!
The first day of all this recent trauma, it took 3 people to find the baby, my ovaries were so swollen and sore, and when they did find it, I was crying openly in pain. He suggested a second ultrasound and the D & C in the same breath. The second day (when we had the ultrasound and could see that the yolk sac had gotten smaller and KNEW we were in trouble) we decided we'd had enough of his treating me like a thing and decided to talk to him about it. At first, we were just going to go to another doctor for the D & C, but the nurses suggested we talk to him about how we felt instead. "He needs to know he can't treat people this way!" one of them said. "And you're not the first to say it about him, either!"
So, when we sat in his office Friday and tried telling him that we really needed him to be a little less blunt and abrupt with us (after all, we've tried for 5 years and he knows how hard this must be), we weren't attacking him. We didn't have it IN us to attack him with all that we knew about the baby. Even still, he jumped to the defensive and said, "Well, I can't change my personality and if you two decide to quit, then shame on you for not continuing this process."
No, really, he actually SAID that! We hadn't decided to quit at ALL, we just wanted him to understand our discomfort and were asking him to be gentle with us.
I flared up and said, "Or maybe GOOD for us that we'd go and find a doctor who'd treat me like a human being with feelings instead of a defective machine!" He basically blew that off, too and acted like our problem was with the D & C, not his ever-so-delightful bedside manner.
Well, after that, we went to our regular OB/Gyn and after the office staff said she wasn't in, they called her at home to tell her about what was going on. She actually met with us on her day off at her office! She did what he should have done...she told us that 40% of the first pregnancies are lost and that most women don't even know it, told us about chromosomes and how things really had to be JUST right to make sure the baby would turn out right, and most importantly, that we did NOTHING wrong. Honestly, you guys, I thought I had killed the baby myself with pizza the weekend before and by lifting heavy bags. Kevin thought he should have been more vigilant about my diet and what I was carrying.
"If it were that easy to get rid of a baby," our OB/GYN smiled, "don't you think there'd be a run on junk food and heavy bags right now and a considerable lack of abortions?" And, just like that, we knew she was right and we actually both smiled. All that confusion with the doctor and what we really needed was a minor therapy session! I cried and she hugged us both and told us to change doctors right away. "He's getting paid enough to at least be nice to you," she growled.
So that led to yesterday (Monday). Kevin called and asked to change doctors in a polite way. The office person said she couldn't do that and directed us to (horror!) the SAME doctor. Kinda like having a rape victim talk to the rapist about their difficulties, really! Anyway, Kevin let him know that it was not a personal matter, we just understood what he said about not being able to change his personality. We couldn't do that, either, and we just wanted to find the least stressful way to handle all this. We thought we'd be doing him a favor by asking to switch to one of the other doctors in the office.
The guy LOST it! "Well, we doctors have rights, too! We don't need to be stressed out, either!" I wasn't on the phone, but my husband said he couldn't believe his ears. I mean, WHO CARES what he was feeling about this? He has pictures of his 4 beautiful children all over his office and we've tried for 5 years to get ONE, only to run into him and his "feelings". Plus, when we first talked to him on Friday, that would have been a GREAT time to fix everyone's hurt feelings, but he wasn't willing to do that...couldn't change his personality (something I KNOW was a lie because I've seen him be nice and personable to other patients, even to me, as long as the intern is in the room). I've never in my life had a professional act in such a way. I, as a teacher, would never act this way. I wouldn't tell a parent "Well, your kid makes me mad, too, so there!" even if the kid really DID drive me crazy. It's...well, childish and whiny and I'm the adult, right?
So, Kevin said what I was thinking, which was "I guess I don't see how our leaving would upset you, since you're saying this causes you stress." The doctor changed the subject and demanded to know wo was doing our D & C. Kevin said that our doctor had suggested someone and before he could say more, the doctor said, "Well, call me back when that's over and we'll talk...I have to go now, goodbye!" and HUNG UP!
So, this has been one of those weird things that's so messed up, it's actually funny. I know we'll get through this and we'll get another doctor, but I figured I blog about it so people in the same situation know you DO have rights. You do NOT have to see the same doctor. You can choose any other in the same office. We're planning on asking one of the other specialists to take our case, but if they feel strongly about it because of the jerk we're dealing with, I won't put them in that position. We'll just go to another office entirely (which is also our choice and right).
No matter what, though...do NOT let some professional make you feel like you don't matter. A fertility specialist SHOULD care about your needs and should be able to counsel you a little we you need it. It's a stressful time and a hard enough situation without you having to fight for fair treatment. Take it from us...you DON'T have to put up with it and there ARE nicer, more caring doctors in this world!
Thursday, February 2, 2006
Sleeping With Mom
I had my insemination today, but that's not what sleeping with mom is about (thank goodness for THAT!). The night before, I suddenly PANICKED. I had no idea how to think about things, where to put my mind. Should I be confident, certain that this will work or more guarded, assuming the worst so I wouldn't be disappointed later.
I really worked myself into a frenzy while Kevin slept, so I got up and called my mom in tears. She told me to calm down because regardless of what happened, this was NOT good for making a baby. "You need to make sure that your body is ready for this and staying up crying and feeling sorry for yourself is not going to do it."
"But, Mom, I'm so scared..." I wept.
"Then stop it. Whatever will happen will happen and rather than asking God for what you want, give it to him and let it GO."
What most folks don't realize is when they say they're letting God "take it", they're really asking God for what they want, then hoping he delivers. What you need to do is ask him for the strength to accept whatever is to happen and for the peace of mind in the interim.
After I realized that, she said, "Now, tonight, you go back to bed with your husband, but know that you sleep with me. And I don't want you kickin' and fussin' and carryin' on all night, so get your act together."
Sometimes, when you think you need to just vent, what you really need is a good shaking and then the reminder that you ARE strong and, more importantly, you ARE loved, by the man next to you as well as by a crazy old lady 1400 miles away.
I sleep with unconditional love tonight.
I really worked myself into a frenzy while Kevin slept, so I got up and called my mom in tears. She told me to calm down because regardless of what happened, this was NOT good for making a baby. "You need to make sure that your body is ready for this and staying up crying and feeling sorry for yourself is not going to do it."
"But, Mom, I'm so scared..." I wept.
"Then stop it. Whatever will happen will happen and rather than asking God for what you want, give it to him and let it GO."
What most folks don't realize is when they say they're letting God "take it", they're really asking God for what they want, then hoping he delivers. What you need to do is ask him for the strength to accept whatever is to happen and for the peace of mind in the interim.
After I realized that, she said, "Now, tonight, you go back to bed with your husband, but know that you sleep with me. And I don't want you kickin' and fussin' and carryin' on all night, so get your act together."
Sometimes, when you think you need to just vent, what you really need is a good shaking and then the reminder that you ARE strong and, more importantly, you ARE loved, by the man next to you as well as by a crazy old lady 1400 miles away.
I sleep with unconditional love tonight.
Wednesday, February 1, 2006
Bun Packin'
Well, it's official. After 5 years of trying, we're finally pregnant (apparently, sleeping with one's mother helps!). My boobs hurt, my abdomen feels like I'm going to start my period every five seconds, but I'm honestly and truly pregnant (plus Celtic Quinn & Sweet Heart made a Little Terror cootie with a baby carving just for us, so now we're having a boxer, too!). I took a blood test back on the 16th of February (2 weeks after my insemination on the 2nd) and it has me very clearly over the HCG levels needed.
Of course, the minute I finally let loose the news at Desperately Seeking Suds (of which I had NONE of, of course!), I start a little spotting and some cramping (sharper than the original stuff I was feeling). Plus the doctor says the HCG levels in my last blood workup didn't have the numbers doubling the way they're supposed to, so now they want me to take another test tomorrow. Apparently being pregnant does not necessarily mean STAYING pregnant.
Worried? Yep.
But, like my mom said, "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." And Kevin keeps reminding me he loves me, no matter what. So I figure I got THAT goin' fer me (watch, now the kid'll turn out to be Bill Murray!)
Kinda weird finally thinking about having a baby, though. Suddenly NOTHING in the house looked like it was suitable to me and EVERYTHING seemed expensive to Kevin ("you know how much these things cost to RAISE???"). I want to do a good job, I want to make sure the kid is happy, healthy, can read well, doesn't get picked on about the interracial thing, smart, good at...everything, especially the stuff that pays well, loves everything, but only gets attached to the things that treat him/her well...so much to demand and so little time...
Plus, you feel like you should be MUCH less demanding of God when he finally grants your fondest wish, but still...oh, human greed and need is a rough taskmaster!
Wish us luck, 'cause we SURE don't need more misfortune! ;-)
Of course, the minute I finally let loose the news at Desperately Seeking Suds (of which I had NONE of, of course!), I start a little spotting and some cramping (sharper than the original stuff I was feeling). Plus the doctor says the HCG levels in my last blood workup didn't have the numbers doubling the way they're supposed to, so now they want me to take another test tomorrow. Apparently being pregnant does not necessarily mean STAYING pregnant.
Worried? Yep.
But, like my mom said, "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." And Kevin keeps reminding me he loves me, no matter what. So I figure I got THAT goin' fer me (watch, now the kid'll turn out to be Bill Murray!)
Kinda weird finally thinking about having a baby, though. Suddenly NOTHING in the house looked like it was suitable to me and EVERYTHING seemed expensive to Kevin ("you know how much these things cost to RAISE???"). I want to do a good job, I want to make sure the kid is happy, healthy, can read well, doesn't get picked on about the interracial thing, smart, good at...everything, especially the stuff that pays well, loves everything, but only gets attached to the things that treat him/her well...so much to demand and so little time...
Plus, you feel like you should be MUCH less demanding of God when he finally grants your fondest wish, but still...oh, human greed and need is a rough taskmaster!
Wish us luck, 'cause we SURE don't need more misfortune! ;-)
Thursday, January 12, 2006
A Nice Man?
I've been listening to NPR talk about Samuel Alito, the nominee to replace Justice Sandra Day O'Connor on the Supreme Court. He's being grilled (well, grilled by Democrats, defended by Republicans) about some of the decisions and statements he's made in his judicial career. It looks like he's getting in trouble over his views on abortion and various other watery issues, but the one that caught my attention was the latest, his having been a a part of a group called Concerned Alumni of Princeton (CAP). In 1983, this group, who flat out was for keeping minorities out of Princeton, wrote an essay in their group's magazine called In Defense of Elitism. Part of the essay said,
"People nowadays just don't seem to know their place. Everywhere one turns, blacks and Hispanics are demanding jobs simply because they're black and Hispanic."
Now, the guy signs up for this group, but claims he totally remembers nothing about it at ALL. Then he declares he's not a bigot, his wife starts crying and one of the Republican senators says essentially, "I know he's not a bigot because I've got 500 statements from people who worked with him that say he's a nice person." The entire process comes off as the mean Democrats picking on Alito's wife.
Okay.
First let me tell you what some terribly nice people, people I've even LOVED have said to me.
From a friend's grandmother: "Why, you're just the sweetest lil' n--ger I ever met!"
From my mother-in-law's sister: "Didn't you ever think that the reason your people suffer on earth is because you have a better place than us in heaven?"
From a friend in high school: "I like you, but I really hate other black people." (when asked if she understood that meant my 8 year old brother, my grandmother and a host of other folks she hadn't ever met, she asked why that was a problem)
I hate to break it to Sen. Lindsay Graham, but some of the NICEST people in the world can be bigots. I've seen people who love, hug and coddle little children while taking pictures next to lynched bodies like it's a some kind of family outing. I've seen grandmothers that bake cookies for local charities in segregation protests yelling at 1st grade girls while swinging a black doll with a noose around its neck. I've talked to highly intelligent human beings who really thought it would help African Americans if they were allowed (yes, ALLOWED) to go back to their home country and begin again.
Being nice does NOT preclude you from being fundamentally WRONG.
And joining a little group like CAP is no where NEAR as violent as any of those other ones I mentioned, but that's not that way the North works. The South has had its difficulties with overtly racist acts, but the North has been the purveyor of some very underground racist acts, such as suburbs that don't admit minorities and secret societies or clubs like CAP. They aren't as widely discussed, but that doesn't make them any less wrong. And really, there's no WAY and up and coming Ivy League student could have joined a prestigious Princeton society (whose very name suggests that their belief system is something offensive enough to not mention) without knowing what it was about. Heck, you'd HAVE to ASK with a name as vague as Concerned Alumni of Princeton! "Say, guys, what ARE we concerned about, anyway?" And it's not like he wasn't PROUD of being in the group...the whole reason it's an issue is because he put it on a job application! If this was a dumb mistake you made in college, why bring it up again without being asked?
I mean, I could see if like this was PETA or something and they were putting out these essays...you'd think they were about animal rights and could explain being misled. But what Ivy League student doesn't have the mental wherewithal to ask what a club is about before joining? Is THAT the kind of thorough examination of information you want with a Supreme Court judge?
Now, maybe bigoted isn't the prettiest word. Let's go with prejudiced, something we all can say we are to an extent. We all have biases that tend to cloud our judgement when we make decisions. I don't mind that in the average person, but in a Supreme Court judge, I need a guy who's got the LEAST biases possible. And even if he IS a "nice guy", that won't stop him from crapping on my rights if he thinks in some misguided way that'll help right the wrongs of this nation.
It's bad enough that the Republicans are trying to help this man blow off his involvement with this group, but the hypocrisy of pretending Mrs. Alito's tears should matter worth a darn in this (especially since I'm sure the families who suffered at the hands of those "nice people" I mentioned probably wept a bit themselves) is WAY too much to handle. She does have reason to cry, though. I'd cry, too, if I found out my husband had been involved in a group like that...and then I'd let the committee tear him apart while I had the divorce papers drawn up. :-)
"People nowadays just don't seem to know their place. Everywhere one turns, blacks and Hispanics are demanding jobs simply because they're black and Hispanic."
Now, the guy signs up for this group, but claims he totally remembers nothing about it at ALL. Then he declares he's not a bigot, his wife starts crying and one of the Republican senators says essentially, "I know he's not a bigot because I've got 500 statements from people who worked with him that say he's a nice person." The entire process comes off as the mean Democrats picking on Alito's wife.
Okay.
First let me tell you what some terribly nice people, people I've even LOVED have said to me.
From a friend's grandmother: "Why, you're just the sweetest lil' n--ger I ever met!"
From my mother-in-law's sister: "Didn't you ever think that the reason your people suffer on earth is because you have a better place than us in heaven?"
From a friend in high school: "I like you, but I really hate other black people." (when asked if she understood that meant my 8 year old brother, my grandmother and a host of other folks she hadn't ever met, she asked why that was a problem)
I hate to break it to Sen. Lindsay Graham, but some of the NICEST people in the world can be bigots. I've seen people who love, hug and coddle little children while taking pictures next to lynched bodies like it's a some kind of family outing. I've seen grandmothers that bake cookies for local charities in segregation protests yelling at 1st grade girls while swinging a black doll with a noose around its neck. I've talked to highly intelligent human beings who really thought it would help African Americans if they were allowed (yes, ALLOWED) to go back to their home country and begin again.
Being nice does NOT preclude you from being fundamentally WRONG.
And joining a little group like CAP is no where NEAR as violent as any of those other ones I mentioned, but that's not that way the North works. The South has had its difficulties with overtly racist acts, but the North has been the purveyor of some very underground racist acts, such as suburbs that don't admit minorities and secret societies or clubs like CAP. They aren't as widely discussed, but that doesn't make them any less wrong. And really, there's no WAY and up and coming Ivy League student could have joined a prestigious Princeton society (whose very name suggests that their belief system is something offensive enough to not mention) without knowing what it was about. Heck, you'd HAVE to ASK with a name as vague as Concerned Alumni of Princeton! "Say, guys, what ARE we concerned about, anyway?" And it's not like he wasn't PROUD of being in the group...the whole reason it's an issue is because he put it on a job application! If this was a dumb mistake you made in college, why bring it up again without being asked?
I mean, I could see if like this was PETA or something and they were putting out these essays...you'd think they were about animal rights and could explain being misled. But what Ivy League student doesn't have the mental wherewithal to ask what a club is about before joining? Is THAT the kind of thorough examination of information you want with a Supreme Court judge?
Now, maybe bigoted isn't the prettiest word. Let's go with prejudiced, something we all can say we are to an extent. We all have biases that tend to cloud our judgement when we make decisions. I don't mind that in the average person, but in a Supreme Court judge, I need a guy who's got the LEAST biases possible. And even if he IS a "nice guy", that won't stop him from crapping on my rights if he thinks in some misguided way that'll help right the wrongs of this nation.
It's bad enough that the Republicans are trying to help this man blow off his involvement with this group, but the hypocrisy of pretending Mrs. Alito's tears should matter worth a darn in this (especially since I'm sure the families who suffered at the hands of those "nice people" I mentioned probably wept a bit themselves) is WAY too much to handle. She does have reason to cry, though. I'd cry, too, if I found out my husband had been involved in a group like that...and then I'd let the committee tear him apart while I had the divorce papers drawn up. :-)
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