Ship's Blog: November, 2007

A few weeks ago, I spent a Saturday morning snuggling with the cats in bed, sipping coffee and reading New Scientist magazine. As you do. I was reading the "cheating death" issue, a fun-loving exploration of the current science around dying and resuscitation. When Kathy interrupted me to ask about our appointments that day, I had to take the opportunity to share what I was reading.

"Did you know that shortly after blood flow stops, a kind of 'death signal' ripples through the body, causing cells to self destruct?" I told her eagerly. "Apparently this is the big obstacle to resuscitation."

"Actually, I did know about that because it happens with injury, too. Remember that football player I told you about, Kevin Everett? They used hypothermia on him to stop his spinal cord from self-destructing."

"Oh, right," I said, continuing to read with fascination.

After a pause, though, I scrunched up my eyes and turned my face away from the open magazine. "Ew. Ew. EW!"  Read more »

The beautiful Lola asks for please, no photographs right now. She's resting.

Thank you for all the kind comments about Lola; I'm glad to report that she's doing okay. She's pretty sore ("Mom, was somebody doing something with my BOTTOM?!?"), she has fur missing from her front legs, and she still feels a bit odd from the experience, but she's at home and that's always a good thing.

The doctor told me that Lola had an odd reaction to the anesthesia, or perhaps the Valium used to calm her down. She began panting and her eyes were jumping about wildly. When I picked her up, I could tell that she was distressed and disoriented. I don't think she was clear that it was mom coming to get her. I sat with her on the floor of the bedroom for a long while until she was able to understand that she was at home and safe. Then she purred desperately for a while, rubbing against me and looking only a little bit insane about the pupils. Tilly, for all her "I hate my sister" mantras, was remarkably gentle and concerned, sniffing her without hissing and settling less than a foot away as though to comfort Lola.

I won't know the results of the biopsies until Friday. The doctor did tell me that the ultrasound showed that one of her kidneys is not normal. It's small and oddly shaped. Right now she has good kidney function, so the other kidney is handling the slack, but I suppose it is a concern when she grows older. Another thing not to think about right now.  Read more »

This morning, I had to take Lola to the veterinary specialists for a consultation. Poor little kitty has been to the vet so many times this year, as we try to keep her (apparent) inflammatory bowel disease under control. With her most recent flare up, her vet confessed that she was at a loss about what to do next, so she referred me to a gastro-intestinal specialist.

It's stressful, because I want so much for Lola to be healthy, and yet at the same time, I don't like scaring her with all of these trips to the vet. She is such a sweetheart; in the exam room, she burrows into me to hide. I can hear feel her heart race and hear her hyperventilate. I wish she understood why we had to do this.

Well, today was supposed to be just a meeting to talk about her condition, but the vet recommended an upper and lower endoscopy, saying she could do it today. Now, previously Lola's regular vet mentioned a surgical intestinal biopsy, which is much more invasive than endoscopy, and I declined at that time for a variety of reasons. Today, I knew we had to do something, and at least this wouldn't mean cutting her open, so I said yes. Good thing I fasted her after midnight just in case that was important.  Read more »

Last week, I came across some very old journals where I had written down my dreams. By very old, I mean that I was eighteen when I wrote them. The dreams were pretty interesting, but I can see why I didn't keep up with writing them down. They tended to be so darn complex that it would be like writing a novella. At some point you just have to get on with your day and forget the iridescent aliens who planted that reverse propulsion bomb you had two minutes to diffuse, even if the showgirls had outfits with that fabulous design you really wanted to remember.

One dream of the distinctly not complex variety, though, involved spiders falling on me from the ceiling. As I read the dream account, I remembered dreaming that dream. It was so vivid at the time. Creepy! I put the journals away.

The next day, I gave my father a call to wish him a happy thanksgiving, and we started talking about whatever was up with him. As he was explaining his plans to see my brother, what should happen? A spider dropped down on me from the ceiling! I squealed, slapping at my face like a mad two-year old, trying to get it off of me. The spider fell to the floor and then disappeared under the bed. Don't ask me how, but my father didn't hear my yelps of, "Ack! A spider just fell on me!" and he kept talking.

Okay, that was a strange coincidence. Until the next day.  Read more »

Our hairstylist has a station set up in the back of a nail salon. It's not uncommon for Kathy and I to overhear the conversations from the pedicure chairs while getting our hair colored.

Last visit, a woman with long blond hair was loudly describing a spa trip to a friend, all while the nail professional massaged lotion onto her feet. The lavender body wraps, she insisted, were not to be missed, and she described the experience in detail. She had such a good time that she made reservations to try a new spa next week and this time, Shorty and Hooyay were coming with her.

All I could think was, what? She's not inviting Butt-head or Rocky?

Boy, are they gonna be pissed.

This past week has been a whirlwind of art, music, Doctor Who, and laundry, with a couple of migraines thrown in. While none have added up to a great story (thus my silence) I do have a few snippets to share.

Time Keeps on Slipping, Slipping, Slipping...

The week after a time change (damn daylight savings time) is always confusing for me. I walk around in a fog and everything feels just a little bit...off. It's not that I get any more or less sleep, it's just that things are...slightly wrong. I think it is 11 a.m. and when I glance at the clock, it's 10:05. "Wrong, wrong, wrong," says my lizard brain.

Meanwhile, "bad, bad, bad," says Tilly's tabby brain. That's because suddenly, with no warning, mom starts feeding her an hour late. Just like that! And she even acts casual about it, like this is nothing new.

On top of that, none of Tilly's efforts to fix the problem seem to work. Running at top speed across the room to leap on mom's chest and then rocket away in the other direction doesn't work. Spending an hour meowing non-stop at mom's feet doesn't work. Spending all day looking like the most persecuted cat on the planet doesn't work!

Possibly the worst thing is that mom actually tries to justify her actions with some lame story about how humans, except those in Arizona and parts of Indiana, possess the power to change Time at will. As if. If she's going to lie, you would think she would come up with something better.  Read more »

This week I joined the 21^st century - at least, in a musical way. Kathy gave me my Christmas gift early and I'm now the proud owner of an Apple iPod Touch. Isn't it purty? Just like on the commercial!

Look, that's my website I'm browsing! Wait, that's THIS ARTICLE! That's like, taking a picture FORWARD IN TIME! Okay, the iPod Touch is not that good. But, um, I am.

I had delayed getting any sort of MP3 player (the Touch is more than that, of course) because I don't listen to much music. I'm "special needs" when it comes to music; I just don't spend much time with it and my taste is rather unevolved. But I decided I wanted this because, you know, maybe if I had music to listen to, it would make me more successful at working out.

So, Kathy was kind enough to give me my gift early, in the name of health and wellness and cool gadgets. But before I could take advantage of all its groovy features, I had to get used to the iPod Touch.

As it turned out, this involved a lot of swearing for the first day.  Read more »