I rescued a cat. I feel terrible.

I had a doctors appointment today (1 year post-op!), which means I worked from home and walked. On my way home, I noticed a little lump of fur in the leaves by the side walk. It hissed at me, and then meowed pathetically. And when I looked at it straight on, it hissed, and then meowed again. Heart breaking meows, like I am so sorry for that hiss, but I dont feel good right now and I am scared, and I am cold, and I am alone...

Well, I couldn't unsee that, I couldn't unhear that, and I couldn't walk away. I have no idea what to do though. I am on the side of a busy street, with no other pedestrians. This cat doesn't have a collar, and might be mean. I pull out my phone, and look for cat rescue, which leads me to animal control, who tell me to take the cat to a vet clinic. I call the vet clinic (because really? You can just leave stray, injured animals there?), and they say, well, actually, take it to the animal hospital. If the cat looks injured (and this one seems not right about the back legs), its going to need care all night, and we go home. A guy came by to check on the cat, and said it had been there since 6am. He also didn't know what to do. But now I have been talking to the cat, and it let me pet its head a bit.

I am going to help this cat.

I go back to the doctors office and get a box with a lid. I take my sweater off and put my coat back on. The cat is shivering, and it doesn't mind when I throw a sweater on it. I figure I can cover the sharp bits with the sweater to move it into the box and slam the lid on. But the cat doesn't fuss at all when I pick it up. It also cant move its hind legs when I get it in the box. Its legs are sticking out so I cant get the lid shut.

I just have to get the cat to the hospital.

I am talking to the cat the whole way home. Its ok. You are having a bad day. Almost there. You are so brave. Good kitty. Its ok, buddy. ... And the cat is talking back. That same, lonely, scared meow. The hospital is close, and they gladly spring to action. Lets get him into a room, and have a look, they say.

Now the cat is warm and alert. And friendly. He nuzzles the microchip scanner the detects nothing. He nuzzles the vet tech as she pulls him onto a clean towel. He looks for a new hand to nuzzle as the vet tech pinches those back legs to see if he feels anything. Nothing. She says he has no circulation back there. She takes him back to see a doctor, and they tell me Thanks for bringing him in.

I am going to hold my cat and cry now.

I am pretty sure they are going to put that cat down. They probably already did. Matt says dying by the side of the road would be worse than going to a cat hospital. And that is true, but now I feel like I lost a cat that was mine for a while. I feel like I lied to the cat. I feel like if I could be so moved by a cat, why do I not do more to help with human suffering? I feel like I should not have left the cat to be put down by strangers, when I might have stayed with it. I feel like my rescue backfired. I almost want to call the hospital to see what happened to the cat, but the outcome seems so obvious. For a minute today, I thought I was going to be a hero, but now I just feel heart sick.

Biannual Blogging

Things kinda fell apart there for a while for me. I've been doting around with various forms of antidepressants for a while and without entirely noticing it I had fallen back pretty hard with my attempted solution. It's meant something of a personal reset, but I think I'm doing better now, and Jessie agrees.

I'm much less busy now. I don't run as often or as long, and I haven't touched my VR project in a couple of months. It's intentional. I wanted to spend some time just relaxing with my free time and seeing what that did for me, instead of turning every moment of the day into currency to be spent against future happiness. Current happiness has some value too. So for the last few months I've just been playing video games in the evening. Because I want to. I don't have to do job hunting or skill developing or anything else I don't want to do. I just pick something I enjoy and I'm doing that for a while. It's gone well.

I'm back on antidepressants as well, and it's helping. The side effects aren't as bad as the symptoms they help with, so there's no reason to complain. It does seem to make everything just a little bit easier to process, a little less of a burden. I like that.

Hobbies...I'm trying them out slowly. I'm less interested in finding some activity that will bring me some measure of bliss I'm just...trying stuff. I'm taking a portrait drawing class. It's all right. It's not making me think I need to get seriously into portraiture, but I like taking it. After the class is over, maybe I'll take another. Or maybe I'll try something else. I'm trying not to be so damn intense about it.

Work...I dunno, man. I still don't like it at all, but I'm trying to complain about it less. They pay me a lot of money, I try to focus on that. I'll work on things in bits and pieces and see what I can do with my career, but it's not worth wrecking myself over. Nothing is.

Fran lives here now. We bought a condo for her and helped her move over from Florida. It's great to have the help. We get to go out on date nights and she helps with chores, and when the kids get into regular school, critically, she'll help to pick them up. It's expensive, and our finances have taken enough of a hit that I'm eying our budget more carefully. Date night is a nice perk though.

To the kids: Tyler continues to improve his attitude in fits and starts. He got really angry a lot for a while there, but has gotten better at managing his anger. Growing older helps, as does a buffet of other things we have tried, I assume. Also moving up into the next class where there is more to do and more to challenge him. His reading is definitely coming along. Every time he reads me a book he gets a piece of chocolate. I'm willing to keep this up indefinitely if needed. He has been carrying a big plastic t-rex around with him lately. He asked if the t-rex could sit at the dinner table with us today. I said yes, and the t-rex was quite well behaved. Also Tyler ate two bowls of Squash soup, which is nice.

We have started to play some video games together, too. He likes to play minecraft and to explore and jump into lava. He gets a really big smile when I let him be in control and he walks us forward into a pit of lava and we lose all our stuff. I don't mind, it's a big smile.

Casey is a full-on Toddler now. She walks around a lot, and even likes to walk instead of being carried sometimes (because that's what her big brother is doing.) She is starting to talk more and more:

PPPPPPtttt = Please

Peessssss = Please also, but with Less spitting. I try to encourage this one

Ma-Me Ma-Me = Give me that!

Raaar = The sound that lions and Bears and Dinosaurs make

“I know” = What daddy says to her when she is fussy, and what she says in response

She's a pretty champion Babbler. She likes to hold books and make lots of sounds at you, which is what she assumes you are doing when you read a book to her. She also gives kisses and hugs and nuzzles on command, and likes to wave hello and bye-bye to strangers, which is the cutest goddamn thing in the world. Also she wears pigtails sometimes which are so cute they should be illegal. She's flipped over to liking mommy more now, which does happen with kids, but it was nice when she thought I was the best. I'm sure she'll be back eventually.

Micronews:

I've started eating Soylent for Breakfast and lunch. Being as I have been eating the same thing for breakfast and the same thing (nearly) for lunch every day for the past decade or more, it's not a huge adjustment.

We lost a set of keys, and getting car keys replaced is real damn expensive.

Jess may get Lasic!

Next blog should be in 2016 sometime...

-N

Mom and Dad's Wedding Announcement

In going through Nana's momentos, I found this. I am always amazing by what she still kept. She and I sat together while she ruthlessly parsed out old photos, giving them to children and nieces or nephews, or just straight to the bin. Before she moved to Bothell, she was feeling particularly unsentimental about objects, but this gem she kept. Or at least, she allowed me to "hold on to it for her" at my house.

Preecs-Warner Wed

Buried in other albums are choice photos from the wedding itself, including the remarkable pink tuxedo. I just think it's lovely that this treasured clipping still exists. Especially given Nana's fondness for newspaper clippings.

Eulogy I read for Nana 8/16

For those of you I haven’t met yet, Martha was my Nana. Nana was a role model in so many things: being a loving wife, mom, grandmother and great-grandmother, being an engaged political citizen and community member, aging gracefully, staying open minded and always learning. I learned a lot from her life and her stories. But perhaps the most important thing I’ve tried to learn from her is how to really listen to people with love. 

When I was in college, I would visit her and Papa, and they were so excited to listen to my dreams and plans. And what I noticed is that she was always listening in a way that reflected the best in me. I told her about my ambitions to study science, and work to discover new drug treatments- she told anyone who would listen I was going to cure Alzheimer’s Disease. When my husband Matt got a job at PACCAR doing sustaining engineering, she told her friends he was making a greener truck. Now, of course, she is my grandmother- it makes sense that she would hold me in high esteem. But since I have been able to spend time with her as an adult, I’ve realized :This is how she listened to everyone.

I am so fortunate that when Matt and I moved back to Washington from Pittsburgh, she decided to move closer to us. It was a huge adjustment for her, but she took it on with an enthusiasm for change that it uncommon for people her age- or frankly people my age. So, thank you to the friends in Spokane who let her leave, and thank you to her friends in Bothell for helping her to never regret the decision to move.

 

I was impressed by how considerate she was of new friends- she used to carry a little notepad to write down people’s names as she met them so she wouldn’t do them the injustice of forgetting their names. And she didn’t limit her circles. When she realized how many of the nursing staff at the Chateau were immigrants, she got a map, and would ask each of them to point out where they were from so she could really learn about them and their histories. Many of the servers in the Chateau dining room are young, and she gladly nourished their ambitions for school and careers and travel. Because she always made time, and paid attention to people in a really personal, compassionate way, she brought out the most patient, considerate side in others.

Since Martha’s passing, I have heard from so many people how sorely she will be missed. Thank you all for recounting your stories of how kind and generous Nana was with her time and attention. As you all know, She made friends quickly. She delighted to share and celebrate your fantastic stories with me-athletes who completed amazing feats swimming huge distances in open water, artists who were perfecting a craft shaped by years of practice and the thrill of travel, and even one guy single handedly restoring an amphibious landing craft in Portland Oregon. When Nana describes her friends to me, they always sound young, vital and full of a joy for life, which is something she just brought out in people. 

She just had a way of warmly acknowledging everyone to make them feel special.

When I defended my doctorate, she proudly traveled to Pittsburgh to listen to my seminar and defense. At the after party, she pulled out her camera and took pictures of every single person who came to wish me well- not just the faculty and my close friends, but the post-docs, the undergraduates and the techs. There were probably 100 people there. She was thrilled to celebrate with all these people who must have played an important role in my education; she knew they must be special because they turned out to support me. She chatted with every single person at the party, and for weeks afterwards, people told me how charming my grandmother the photographer was. 

A few years ago, we took a trip to Winthrop with Nana and my mother-in-law Betty. There were people who looked like me and my husband, who were returning from bike rides or hikes, people who looked like Betty or even Nana, who were perhaps gallery shopping or RVing.  Nana wanted a picture of us happily enjoying lunch at a brewery, so of all the available patrons, she of course turned to the table of surly-looking, leatherclad bikers pounding beers at the table next to us, and asks them for a photo. One of these tough guys hops up with a “Yes ma’am,” very happy to oblige. I was already bemused with the interaction, then she sincerely asks him about his shirt- he is wearing a Caribbean beer shirt, with bright colors and scantily clad ladies. And Surly McBikerGang lights up and tells her about the joy of lazing on the beach and partying in Belize. And she of course has heard such wonderful things about Central America from her dear friend who has a tree house in Costa Rica… the way they hit it off, I thought he was going to buy her a beer. But that was Nana: she always saw the best in people- these weren’t thug bikers, these were a few guys enjoying each other’s company just like us, and she brought out the best in people just by treating them like they truly are treasures. 

I hope to spend the rest of my life working to be as warm and loving to every human I encounter as she showed me how to be. To Nana, everyone was special, and everyone was worthy of her time and attention.  She will be sorely missed, and fondly remembered by everyone who had the great pleasure of knowing her.

Forever GreatNana

This morning, the lights dimmed for the last time for our beloved Mom, Nana, Gramma, Auntie, and friend. She was blessed by the presence and support of her niece and fellow Christian Scientist, RayAnne who was with her at the end reading her entries from Science and Health. It was quiet and peaceful, consistent with her life.

We remember her as all the vessel of all the admirable qualities the human spirit can express: kindness, strength, compassion, courage and on and on. At 66 years old, I still wanted to impress her, make her proud, be a good son to such an amazing mother.

She survived the Depression, WWII, teenage boys, 30 years of retirement, 65 years of marriage, 5 years of widowhood, and a lifetime of friendships. 94 years covers a lot of human history and family life. She never seemed to let any of it defeat her for very long. A bright outlook, a generous spirit, and determination to see good in everything and everyone around her seemed to carry her through.

In her last years here at Chateau Bothell, she continued her relentless goodwill, making friends, doing good works, finding activities to engage her active mind. We are spending time in her little nest here extracting the library books and literature that she continued to absorb in her final days. Her email account is crowded with appeals from a host of liberal, compassionate causes that she believed in and supported. Apparently, the Democratic Party has lost a real pillar.

I find it a bit ironic that the first sign that she really was slowing down was when she took a header into the sidewalk on Father's Day while trying to WALK to church. That's a quarter mile up and down hills and, in retrospect, a real stress test. Her last "public" event was when she came to Cousin Kate's house two weeks ago for a family dinner. I was oblivious to her situation because she really wasn't letting it show. More sensitive table mates got us to recognize that she was struggling. That was the first ER visit that started on the path to this day. Mom allowed us to impose enough "traditional" medicine to recognize the course of events as we saw them, then we returned to her home with RayAnne's guidance and gracious support.

She is at peace. Someday, we will be too. Into His Loving Arms, we commend her spirit.

An entry from Texas

Yes, I know, I'm staggeringly infrequent, but I'm busy as hell. You have no idea. Between work, kids, exercise, and learning how to do VR stuff, I have no time left to just relax. Blogging is, as you can imagine, pretty far down on the list, but I like having these to look back on, especially as the kids grow up.

Tyler, first, has turned 4. He's growing bigger all the time, asking more questions (and more questions that make sense) and is generally more pleasant than he was at three. This doesn't mean he's not still a complete monster at times. (Like today, for example). But the trendline is going up, which is good. He's starting to read basic books, which is nice. He's hard to motivate, though. If he doesn't know he likes something, he's loathe to try it. Reading, therefore, is mostly a function of figuring out how to motivate him to want to try something new. He does it little bits at a time, though, and we have a lot of time to continue raising him, so I think odds are good he'll get it down eventually. Especially when he figures out that reading is the key to figuring out how to play video games. I think that will help a lot.

Casey is growing up fast too. This week, in fact, she's starting her transition up to her toddler class! It's sort of a baby+ class, actually, she only has 5 kids in her class, and they are all kids that have moved up over the past couple of weeks, so the fact that none of them can really walk means it's not a full on toddler class. But, critically, this does mean our day care bill goes down a little bit, which is nice. This also means, potentially, that we have passed the maximum amount we will ever have to pay for day care. (Unless you count college as day care, which might be a fair assessment.)

Her first birthday party up in Washington was very nice, and we all got together for an impromptu Preecs family reunion. She had a blast eating through her cake (she went at it with a lot more gusto than Tyler did) and was very smiley at everyone. She's a quite smiley lady.

Her molars are finally coming in, and she isn't happy about it at all. Luckily her pacifier does a good job of soothing her past mouth troubles, but that whole process looks pretty uncomfortable, so I can understand some fussiness and clinginess.

She's very close to walking, too. She wants to come up to you and grab your thumb with one hand (one hand only, she was doing two for a while, but has realized she can get by with one and that frees the other hand to grab stuff, so now she insists on one hand. Unless you're helping her stand up.) and walk around the house grabbing things.

She's starting to communicate a little bit too. Whenever she drops things over the side of her high chair she says “oh oh”. And when she asks if she is all done she sometimes says “Aaaa Daaaan”. Or sometimes “aaah aaaaah aaaa daaaa aaaa”. It's a work in progress. But it's seriously cute.

I'm working on new stuff. I've decided I want to be a VR developer. Or perhaps just a Technical Artist, which is a profession that I've just made up that involves doing the technical side of creating visual effects in computer graphics. Things like animation, automated modeling, stuff like that. I don't know if that's something that people actually do, and frankly I don't know if it's something I really want to do either, but It's something I'm trying, and it feels like progress towards something, which is important, because it gives me hope. Whether or not anything actually comes from all this work is less important, at times, than feeling like I'm just doing something to advance myself in a direction of better happiness. As opposed to just...stagnating.

To this end, I attended a VR (Virtual Reality) game Jam a few weeks ago. What is a game Jam? Glad you asked. Video games are, at base, computer programs. And a Game Jam is when people get together for a concentrated period of time to see how much 'game' you can make in just a couple of days of work. The things that come out of them are often very rudementary, proof-of-concept things, but some serious games have come out of game jams, and it forces you to see if your game concept works, and allows you to get good feedback on it.

I didn't go to create my own VR game. I went for two reasons. 1) to Meet People and 2) To see if I could help on someone elses game in order to increase my experience with Unity programming. (Unity is the software that allows you to program and script your game. It's what most everyone is using to create things for VR.)

It was incredibly stressful, but I'm super glad I went. I was able to hang with people that clearly had more Unity background than I do, and I got to make VR beer pong, which isn't going to set the world on fire anytime soon, but it was a simple, easy-to-understand game concept, and I was able to help and learn a lot about what I do and what I don't know how to do in Unity. Plus we got to demo our game to a bunch of people, get some good feedback, and play around with nifty VR equipment that won't be on sale until later this year. I felt pretty fancy. There's still a lot of work to do if I'm going to try and make a serious career out of this, but like I said, it's progress, and it feels like moving forward.

I'm working on another VR music video (in my 'free time', so VERY slowly), I'll try to post some screen shots of things, I'm sure moms and dads of all generations would love to see my early, early prototype stuff.

Micro news!

Going camping this weekend. Should be hot, but also *s'mores*.

Jess is still awesome at hockey.

I've been running some pretty long distances lately. 3 miles used to be my limit. Now a 'short run' for me is around 4 or 5. My record long run is 11 miles. I think I'll try to do a half marathon in the fall sometime when it's cooler.

I usually weigh less than 200 lbs now. Which is pretty impressive. If I ever get down to 190 I'll be at high school weight. Except, of course, with more muscle now.

Casey is getting weaned off of bottles and has grown out of her cloth diapers. This vastly reduces the amount of chores I have to do when I get home. Kids still are a lot of work, though.

There are a lot of video games coming out, and I don't have the time to play almost any of them. That's how I know I'm serious about using my time for exercising and programming.

That will do for now. I'll try to update everything again before another three months go by. I'm sure there will be great stories to tell between now and then.

-N

Home ownership

Matt and I have been working on some next level adulthood lately. My commute is bad enough to motivate me to get into the office at 6:30 most mornings, which means we have a habit of early bedtimes and quiet evenings. Today I decided to try to ride my bike (and bus), which took a little longer than usual. I was trying to tell Matt the tragicomic story of my commute...
...So when the bus finally DID show up, I got my bike wedged the wrong way into the bike rack and the bus driver had to get out to help me...
But there are all these bugs flying around. Ick. Big, fat, stupid bugs. That sorta look like termites. Im still committed to this story, ...
...When I finally got the garage door open, I realized that the bike cave has a number combo lock, which I dont remember...
But Matt has moved into responsible homeowner mode, and he is walking around the porch, killing bugs, and trying to guess where they are coming from. It was hard to end on a triumphant note, but I forged ahead.
...So I realized there is another bus I can take from the freeway stop I am at, to the freeway stop close to the house, so I just got on the next bus to show up, and pedaled another mile home...
During my lame story about how I can ride a bike, Matt uncovered a burgeoning hornet next, and a Raccoon Latrine. One of two latrines he found, in fact.

Matt was feeling domestic, and wanted to deal with these things right away, and I was feeling skeeved out, so I did the research (and boiled the water), and he did the action. You can picture me shouting out the window to him: Honey, its round worm you have to be careful of. Put on some boots and a mask.

The good news is that the first bugs are not termites, but flying ants. Yes, that passes for good news here.

Tyler's Birthday Party, et. al.

We just got back from Tyler's fourth Birthday party.  We had it at 'pump it up'.  We have been there several times before, but never for one of ours.  Tyler had a great time, though we had to take care of a few rough patches when he got hungry.  Lots of running around and bouncing.  Casey had a good time too.  She liked watching people and watching the big bounce houses and watching the walls and everything so much that eventually she just got exhausted and fell asleep on my shoulder.  Very sweet of her.  We had chocolate cake, everyone had a good time, and the whole house except for me is napping now.  I went out and raked leaves.  I think I need to do some gardening this weekend too.  It's spring, which lasts for like 2 weeks here in Texas.  Should take advantage of the outdoors now that its tolerable.

Update on the kids!  Tyler seems to be slowly growing out of his obnoxious phase.  Jess and I were talking and she was lamenting that he was growing out of the 'cute' phase.  He's not going to be three anymore.  I laughed at her.  I hated three!  It was the worst!  Glad for it to be behind us.  Here's to better years to come.  Tyler is also old enough to have proper Legos at this point, which is great for me, cause now I can buy them under the cover of buying them for him (they will not always be for him.

Casey is growing up big, too.  She can cruise with one hand, and is *desperate* to be able to walk like her big brother, has been for months.  She wants in on walking as fast as she can.  She's getting there, too.  Her legs are getting stronger all the time.  I think as soon as she figures out the last bits of her balance, she's be unstoppable.

Casey's first word was MaMa, this is true.  But her *favorite* word, at least for now.  Is Dada.  She is 100% Daddy's girl.  Whenever she sees me she leans out and stretches out her arms so I can pick her up.  There are times when she will let mom get her, but just as often, she turns right back around and tries to get on me.  Which is nice, I didn't get that as much with Tyler, so it's good to have a kid that thinks you are the greatest in the world.  She also has started to babble a bit, and even says, I'm convinced, "Tyler".  Which sounds a lot more like "Da-duuuh".  When Tyler leaves the dinner table, Casey always wants him to come back.  She likes that older brother, and Tyler likes that he has someone that wants to pay attention to him all of the time.  He roughhouses with her a little, but is careful, more or less.  I have to teach him to pay attention to Casey's face and sounds so he knows when to lay off.

I have decided to become a VR developer.  This has meant that in the past few months, I've bought an Oculus Rift dev kit, learned C#, learned Unity, and have been modeling things in Blender.  I am, of course, not *great* at any of these yet, I only get to work on things after everyone else in the house is asleep.  But there was a VR Austin meetup group that I took a little VR music video to and got a lot of positive feedback.  People liked it, simple as it is.  I learned a few nice things, and have ideas for what the next iteration of my music video will be.  My plan is to do this until I either get good enough that people will pay me to make VR music videos for their band (hello, Austin!) or that someone hires me to work on VR stuff instead of defense stuff.  It might work, or it might not, but it feels like I'm *doing* something, and so I don't feel hopeless anymore.

Micro-News!

We got a big fancy TV and moved the 'old' TV upstairs in front of the treadmill.
I've been running a LOT.  My long distance record is 9.5 miles.  I'm considering signing up for a half marathon at some point.  Jess is signed up for a 10K next month, because she has started running long distances too.  Not sure what sparked this, but I have an app called "Zombies, Run" which keeps me well motivated to run more often and run longer when I go.  Able Township needs me!
I'm playing *way* fewer video games now. All my time is spent raising kids, working, programming, running, or catching up with Jessie.  Not much time for anything else.
Jess is a manager now.  She is super important.
We are considering the purchase of additional real estate, but there's a lot of math involved before we know if it will work.
Casey has her 8 front teeth in now.
We will be traveling up to Seattle soon to visit family, that will be nice.
Went to the Austin Rodeo.  Tyler had a great time on all the rides.  Pig race was fun too.  No cowboy hat for me, yet, though.

Till next time,

-N

Dr. Lori and the Antiquities

So, having lots of retired time and contemplating things to do around the house, we went to the Seattle Home Show this week. Always seem to find good ideas and sources for projects, a fun thing to do. So Monday we enter the hall and are immediately distracted by the beginning of the "Dr. Lori" show. We had seen her here before and I wanted to watch her whole act.

Dr. Lori is a voluble rotund East Coaster with a PhD in Art history and Antiquities who makes her living as an antiques appraiser. She's a regular on the Discovery channel, has written 30 books on the subject, been on Leno, Conan, every local newsmagazine worth mentioning and has been hired by the Home Show for years to give 2 shows for 2 days giving free appraisals to guests of any number of American antiques, sort of a walk-in Antiques Roadshow. She is loud, funny, unapologetically critical of "pickers" who are trying to buy stuff to sell under the guise of appraising. She thinks we ought to know what is or is not valuable of our possessions. She figures we pay her for a skilled evaluation and we can decide if we want to pursue selling for a fair price. She regularly gives horror stories about people selling treasures at garage sales out of ignorance but she does spend a good bit of time deflating stories of family treasures that really aren't anything special except in the mind of the owner. She is knowledgeable about the widest array of stuff I can imagine, political ephemera, furniture, jewelry, art works of all types. We watched her first show on Monday and had a great time. After we walked the aisles until closing we came home and I persuaded Connie that we should take some "stuff" to Dr. Lori the next day.

So, Tuesday morning, I gather the disassembled family sewing stand that has been passed to our keeping from Nana plus a pair of Tlingit sealskin slippers that were gifted to me by a grateful post-op patient from one of the villages several years ago and went back to see Dr. Lori. If you remember the sewing stand, it is 3 feet tall and has an 18 inch round cabinet with lots of little nooks and hidden chambers inside. Its a dark veneer with some warping  of the lid, several small dings and a lot of imbedded mother-of-pearl scroll work. I've always thought it was sort of quaint but shabby, not having any love for cheap veneered modern furniture that isn't "real wood" and aware of the wounds it has collected over the years. The slippers are real baby sealskin and fur, way too big for me, but something I believe Poppa would wear when he visited us in Juneau. Nice beadwork ravens but clearly modern. My patient made them for me, these were not antiquities.

Dr. Lori has the audience bring up their stuff to her platform with brief forms describing the pieces and one by one she assesses and appraises the items. The sewing stand is down in front, too big for her table. She interrogates each owner for a story, with lots of humor and wisecracking at the foibles of ignorance and delusions that can accompany family items.  I'm not sure I understand her system for how she goes about the order of events but I've gotten the sense she saves her bigger reveals for her last items. And she's not looking at the sewing table for a long time. We notice in the course of her meandering spiel, she leans over the table to take an I-phone picture of the slippers without comment. Eventually they do come up. Connie is "presenting" them because there is one appraisal per person. How did we get them? A gift from a grateful Native patient. What does your husband do? Used to be an Eye Surgeon? Now he lays around the house? You like him laying around the house?  This is your husband? So doctor, why are my arms getting so short?? All rapid fire zingers and laughter abounding. These slippers, you like them? Well they're actually very slippery. Of course they are! They're seal skin! Haven't you seen those beasties sliding around the rocks and things?? Eventually she stops with the one-liners and says, "Beautiful Native made footwear, $800 to $1600". Probably as much or more than Medicare paid me for the surgery at the time.

Finally she comes down to the front to look at the table. "Gordon, do you like this table?" Well, its been in the family for many years and is supposed to go to a grandchild someday. "GORDON, do you LIKE this table??? Well, its seen better days, its got some condition problems, its just a veneered wood..."GORDON, you're looking at a nineteenth century piece with 21st Century eyes. Yes we think of veneered furniture as pretty low brow today but in the 19th Century, this was their very best work! Its gorgeous, its beautiful, its worth an easy $5000!!!" Lots of o-o-o'ing and ah-h'ing and chagrin on my face. And as a topper, the next and last lady presents some natïve dolls that she bought from an old Inuit lady who was trying to pay her electric bill. The one she brought, of many she bought, she paid $50 for. Embroidered features on stuffed seal intestine body parts, real human hair. How much would she take for this doll.  The lady takes a deep breath and says "Maybe I would sell it for $1000". Dr. Lori says "Well that's OK but you'd be leaving $9000 on the table. This is a $10,000  Doll!" We bring down the house.

Afterward, Dr. Lori has me pose with the her and the sewing table for pictures. Maybe they'll go on her FaceBook page or her many websites. I just know I'm in her library of finds off the street. And now I have to think about promoting the sewing table to a more prominent place in the household. And upping my insurance coverage as well....

New Job!

One of my big worries about my recovery process from surgery is that I was losing my job at the same time. I worried that I'd languish is a sort of post-recovery doldrum for too long, and my job hunt would be derailed. I was doing a lot of work up until about mid-December, and then... holidays, pre-op,... I just didn't have a lot of time. Mercifully, my old job asked me to let them know if/when I might be able to help out with some contract work, and that spurred me along after the recovery. This was good, because it basically masked the effects on my resume of taking a month off for surgery, and gave me some practice at working, which helped me gauge my recovery better than watching TV and playing solitaire.

I had applied for a job at Tableau in December, and was called in before the holiday. I was really excited about the role- my old manager recommended me for the job, because he works on the team. With another former editor of mine. And they are both very happy with the work, the vibe, the boss, etc... And Tableau just does very cool stuff (data visualization- or making pretty graphs). I was tickled when the hiring manager told me during my interview that while he wasn't sure how the team would decide to hire for this role, he thoughts I was a good fit, and that the team was growing. So if not this opening, than soon. He'd be in touch. I thought I must be as shoe in, but I was only slightly disappointed when I learned, on the way home from the hospital, that I didn't get the job.

Imagine my happy surprise when I received a call from that very recruiter at the end of January asking if I would be willing to talk about a different role on the same team. Oh sure! I was concerned because of the three roles on the team (Instructional Designer, Technical Writer, and eLearning Specialist), the third I felt least qualified for, and of course, that is what they wanted to talk about. Would I ruin my chances of getting a job on this team if I blew this interview? I let my old coworker/officemate convince me I have a lot of eLearning experience, and I went in with an open mind.

In this interview, I reinterviewed with two people I had already met, and clearly, the tables had turned. They asked as couple probing questions, but were much more concerned with my interest, and selling me on the fit. The hiring manager made it sound like this was a sure thing, and the he very much hoped I didn't take something else in the meantime. After the interview, I went to lunch with my old manager, who is a tech writer on this team. He reiterated that they were really hoping to find a place for me, and I asked him why they would bring me into the role I am least qualified for. He gave me confidence that the team would be patient while I learned what there is to know, and that everyone really was a kind, and enthusiastic as they appeared in the interview.

Great, now I WANT this job, I'm excited about this job, and I still don't have a lot of confidence that I can get this job. I was on pins and needles all weekend, wondering when I might hear... something? Anything?

Monday afternoon, I got an email to set up a call with the recruiter. Matt confirmed that she would only want to talk to me if there were good news to discuss- not bad news to deliver. Indeed there was an offer. I took some time to think about it because there were terms I couldn't quickly parse over the phone, and factors that the recruiter couldn't weigh in on. I contacted my future boss to ask him about flex-scheduling- oh sure, he really wants to make that work. I signed the offer, and agreed to start on March 2.

That leaves me plenty of time to continue healing and get in shape, finish my current contract, visit Gramma W and Noel's family, and maybe even get my own house in order a bit. I guess my worry about falling off into a jobless abyss was unfounded- or if not unfounded, at least surmountable. I'll share more about what I actually do, once I figure that out.

In other news, I've been jogging a bit, hiking some, and am officially cleared to slowly bring back any other form of activity I like. Recovery is going well. We've started some major effort to rearrange furniture at our house, which may take some time to settle. Matt's stepmom sent me her old hockey skates, so we are looking forward to giving that a (slow, stuttering, awkward) attempt this weekend.

So, ChocolateFest on a diet with ComicCon on the side...

In a break from the heroic accomplishments of my children, Connie and I had a diversion during SuperBowl Prep weekend. I had made an attempt to send some Christmas newsletters to old friends and colleagues now that we're retired and have no excuse for missing. One of my old Med School classmates got back in touch to let me know she was actually coming to Portland to work for a few weeks and asking if we could get together.  In looking at things to do down there, we saw the announcement for their annual ChocolateFest, a sampling extravaganza with wine tasting tucked in as well. We decided to meet for lunch, then take in the festival  before returning home on Saturday.

Arriving at the Oregon Convention Center to meet our friend, we were amazed to see the sidewalks clogged with young people in a galaxy of super-hero/action-figure/comic character costumes. Apparently, we were sharing the event Halls with the local ComicCon, and man, the locals were into it. Easily 90% of the outfits we saw were completely out of my experience or awareness. At least Star Wars and League of Justice folks registered with me but not much else. Very impressive and entertaining!

We couldn't find an immediate parking spot, no surprise, so we drifted out until we found a comfortable Vietnamese place with a corner table we could hi-jack. Regina was a true Georgetowner, undergrad and med school, daughter of a G-Town faculty member, Cradle Catholic, the whole bit. She was one of my immediate group that headed toward OB-Gyn after graduation. She actually took it farther, doing a fellowship in Maternal-Fetal medicine, basically High-risk OB. We listened to her story with a mixture of pride, sadness, and hope.  It has been tough for her.  She had a couple of attempts at joining practices with other OB's which failed. The last one, about 20 years ago, ended up as a financial disaster as well. For the last decade, she has operated as a Locum Tenans, taking short and long term positions in practices all over the country, ergo the trip to Oregon. She has had to rebuild much of her life since these misadventures, emotional, financial, and professional. And, as near we can tell, she has. She has a home, a career, and contentment.

Another of my immediate student group came to mind. Another G-towner with deep roots there who married right after graduation to a fellow MD but whose life went off the rails immediately with the onset of MS. Her husband left her, her practice ultimately halted with the advance of her disease, and she died 12 years ago, long before her time. These were not thoughts that made me feel pity. Rather, I have a sense of gratitude for the exceptionally satisfying course our lives have taken and the pride we can have in our own family's start toward successful lives in the deeper meaning of those words.

So, yes, we found compelling permutations of high percentage cocoa with spices, flavors and tastes we never before imagined.  But we were also reminded of how sweet life can be, even after very hard times.  We drove home safely with a few nummy presents in the back seat. We probably did some damage to the principles of the South Beach Diet but it was a good visit. Not sure if we're gravitating toward Road Trip mentality, but it was fun.

I had my kidney out- Hospital Edition

It's been three weeks since our big transplant surgery. In the lead up to that, Matt, Kelsey, GW, Nana, Shaoshu and I had one of the best Christmases on record. Everyone was very mellow, we ate a lot of egg dishes and candy, got to sit around the fire, sleep, laugh and enjoy eachother's company. I think everyone was trying not to be nervous about their respective roles, and it was just really nice to reconnect a little before the surgery. I had plenty of time to get in my final work outs (no missed days in December!). A couple days before surgery, Kelsey and GW and GW's parents moved into an apartment closer to the hospital. This was obviously a good choice long term, but my house felt really empty without them.

The day before surgery, I was on a liquid diet, so Matt and I had a quiet day at home. During the day, I felt quite brave, and was getting intermittent check ins from all corners. Thanks to everyone who called and texted. But as the day started to fade, and I tried to pack a bag, and think about sleeping before my 4am wake up call... well, sleep didn't come easily. Packing a bag was hard. Will I be able to wear clothes? (Answer, nah, a hospital gown is fine, but my baggiest PJs helped me get home). What will I need to sleep? (eye mask and ear plugs) Books? TV? What will I feel like watching and doing? What will Matt need to keep him busy while I am healing? Will he spend the night? In the end, we each packed basically an overnight bag, which seemed disconcertingly light. Weeks before I had assured Matt that if everything went as planned, he could go home to sleep at night, but the day before hand, I just wasn't so confident that I would feel brave in an empty hospital room at night. He readily agreed to come prepared to stay for a while.

As the evening wore on, Matt went to fix something in the garage (read: he was anxious), and GW sent me a great short video of Niel DeGrasse Tyson, which reminded me I should watch Cosmos. I've been reading Death by Blackhole, which has the right amount of funny and technical for reading until I am quite sleepy, and Cosmos has a similar tone of optimistic wonderment that helped take my mind off of what was coming.

I should probably mention here that I assumed I would be pretty much obliterated by this surgery. I was hoping I would be too drugged to remember how much pain I was in, and I was very afraid that I would be making a slow crawl back to self sufficiency. I was told recovery takes 2-6 weeks, which I was taking to mean I might be able to walk, feed myself, and possibly sit at a computer for a few hours after a month. All this kinda made me think that the start point was going to be pretty bad. I was resigned to all of this, I figured it was a trade for a fraction of the suffering GW had to deal with, I would just get it in one big dose. I had just made up my mind to go through with it, even when I wasn't feeling especially brave, like at midnight the night before surgery.

Somehow we slept, albeit briefly, because check-in was at 5:30am. No traffic at that time. I decided to look forward to seeing Kelsey and GW and his parents, and try not to think about... you know... We got settled into a room on the transplant floor, that was a couple doors down from GW. I got hugs from everyone, which was so good. You know how frail you feel after eating nothing but juice for 24 hours? Yeah, not like a brave person, so the hugs really helped. And the hospital room was just too bright, too foreign, not to get a little antsy. When they came to put my IV, the nurse asked if I wanted lidocaine to numb the spot. I started to say no, and then thought 'I'm having a hard enough time holding it together, why not just let this lady be nice to me?' I decided right then I would take anything I was offered that seemed like it would help, even if it might make me seem super wimpy. I didn't want to be tearing up over an IV, or anything else. It's courageous enough just to be the donor, without trying to be a tough guy the whole time too.

I poked my head in to GW's room, where he was cacooned under heated blankets, also trying not to be nervous. The were supposed to take me down an hour before him, so we said our goodbyes, and I waited in my bed for someone to wheel me away. Both Matt and I were feeling at little giddy with anxiety by this point. Being there, I really knew I was here to Do Some Good, everyone was being terrifically kind, but... OMG, they were about to cut my guts out! I was wheeled into the pre-op room, which was full of nervous middle age people in gowns, some of them shuffling into the restroom, most of them lying in their own hospital beds with a loved one looking on. Matt and I were trying to feel youthful and brave, when another bed rolled in- for whatever crazy reason, they brought GW down an hour early. I know that must have been torture for him, but I was SO happy to see him. He got parked next to me, so I got extra hugs from Kelsey, and we could keep joking and chatting up to the last minute. He made my nurse bring me a Bair Hug- the inflating, warm air circulating, blanket. The nurse told him that he could wear his beanie, which made us realize we should have got Renal Riot hats for the big day. My anesthesiologist stopped by to chat, and was just amazed to see us carrying on like this right before surgery. All the nursing staff and surgeons were loving it. This is where we took the high five picture that got a couple hundred FB likes (not to mention instagram). The nurse offered to set our families up in a family waiting room, where they could get updates from surgery. It felt like we were getting VIP treatment.

And then they wheeled me in. I got one last hug and kiss from Matt and Kels, and a high five from GW. With no one holding my hand or encouraging me, I suddenly felt very alone, very tiny, and not especially brave. I think the hallways to the OR might be one of the longest hallways in all of Seattle. I was told that when we got in the room, the anesthesiologist would give me something to "calm down" prior to starting surgery, so I figured I just had to get in there, and things would take their course. The OR nurse introduced herself on the way (really, we had that much time rolling down this hallway), and she told me to expect some of the other people in the room (I have no idea who now, but I was glad she mentioned that). The asked me to move myself onto the operating table. By now I almost forgot that I was still able bodied for a few minutes, and happily did the sideways scoot. They hooked up my IV, told me they were going to do some... other stuff, who knows... and I had a last minute sense of calm...

...The next thing I remember, was the recover room. A nurse had come to chat with me, and I was amazed that my mouth seemed to be able to make words. This is probably because my nearest experience with surgery was having my wisdom teeth out, when my mouth was packed with cotton. I remember thinking I felt more lucid than I expected, and wasn't in pain yet, although I don't remember having my eyes open. Someone a few beds down was crying for their mother, and the nurse told me not to worry, that person was confused. to which I said, "I understand that. I'm feeling pretty confused myself..." But I knew, I knew, my mom was nearby and was going to give me a hug really soon.

In my memory, I was magically transported to my hospital room, where people (I assume Matt, and Kelsey and my parents where there) told me I was looking pretty good. I remember thinking I felt pretty good considering. I was allowed to eat ice chips which seemed nice, I felt thirsty and my throat was a bit sore. The nurse wanted to look at my incisions. I was a little afraid to see, but there was a big pressure bandage over my hips, so the big cut was a mystery for now. The little cuts had bloody gauze under clear plastic sticker things. I would later learn that under that were steristrips, basically the sticker versions of stitches. Overall, it looked worse than I hoped, but much better than expected. I got a button to administer my own pain meds, and like I said, I had determined I didn't really need to tough out feeling discomfort. Everyone else already had heard the good news, but at some point I was told (and remembered) that GW's new kidney was working. And working really well. Hooray!

A weird thing that the night shift nurse explained to me was that some of these drugs don't necessarily make a person sleepy. By the evening, I had been up and chatting with visitors most of the day. Matt has asked for a cot to be brought in to sleep next to me. I had barely slept the night before, and I just... didn't feel sleepy. My throat was hurting more now, from the intubation, and my (wonderful) nurse brought me nasal spray for my itchy nose, and lidocaine lozenges for my throat. I sat up and watched Star Trek: Next Generation and Kung Fu Panda cartoons with a few cat naps for most of the night. When the nurse would come in and wake Matt up (I was usually awake), he would hold my hand across the gap in the beds. I tell you, there is something really comforting and encouraging about having someone hold your hand while we are in a hospital bed.

Later that night, GW called me from down the hall. He wanted to know I was doing ok. His first question on waking up was about me, but he wanted to check on me himself. And then he told me he was doing really well. The kidney was working so well, he was dropping 30mL of fluid a minute for most of the day. And he said he felt pretty good. And I gotta tell you- that was the moment that I felt like it was worth it.

The next couple days were punctuated by a number of firsts. The drugs I was on made it terribly hard for me to focus on anything, so time seemed to move shockingly slowly. By the night of surgery I stood beside my bed for the first time. The next day I was allowed to eat Jello, my first food since Saturday. I took a few steps out of bed. The surgeons came to check on me, and told me I could eat my first solid food that afternoon. I took my first pain pills by mouth. Shaoshu came to visit, Kelsey went home to sleep. I walked down the hall to see GW. He came down the hall to see me. I went to the bathroom myself. I got to use body wipes to "bathe." A resident came by to take off the big bandages, revealing a few bloody steristrips hiding tiny cuts. I learned how to cough with a pillow pressed on my stomach. I put on underwear. I started walking laps of the hallway, gingerly holding my stomach in place.

The day after surgery, the surgeons, giddy from seeing GW's success, popped into to brag about my kidney and told me I could probably go home the next day. This sounded crazy to me, but the next day, we had found a painkiller that I could tolerate, I was walking short distances confidently and could eat food. Although it seemed comfortable to have a nurse prepared to answer at the push of a button, I knew both Matt and I would sleep better at home, so we left the hospital around 2:30 that afternoon. A pre-med volunteer wheeled me down to the car. I was wearing my biggest PJs, had a pillow between my stomach at the seat belt, and we timed our exit to shortly after my dose of painkiller.

I'll give more updates on the rest of recovery later soon, but for now, I'm back to job hunting and working, and about to head over to Nana's for tea.

Casey can do new things now

Casey is getting older, day by day, and she's started to pick up a few tricks.  Tyler does too, of course.  I thought I'd write down a few because it's always fun to go back to see how they grew up.

Casey has been calling me dadadada for a while.  When I come pick her up from day care, she gives me a smile and crawls over to me, then lifts up hands in a clear sign of 'pick me up'.  Then she looks at me for a while and says "dadada..." a few times with a slightly confused look on her face.  It's very nice of her.

She's also started in with Mamama now, too.  She said mama before dada, but I think I'm the first one she actually spoke to.  

She has started to mimic us.  The game we had where we would clap whenever she shook the container of beano has evolved into the game where we clap for her and then she claps for us.  Then she claps for us and we reciprocate.  She also likes to mimic our head shakes.

She also did one of the most toddler things I've sever seen her do.  I was munching on an apple and I figured I'd give it to her to chew on.  I had eaten around the sides so it was vaguely bottle-shaped.  She was really into it for a while, she liked the flavor and could get her hands around it, but the problem was that she knew what she was supposed to do.  When you get something like that in your hands, you get your mouth around one end and suck on it, and then food comes out.  Well she tried that for about 3 minutes, grabbing and sucking, grabbing and sucking...but no food was coming out.  Then all at once, she stopped, put the apple down, and started crying.  She wanted food, and she knew how she was supposed to get it, but it wasn't working right.  It was very sweet and heartbreaking, so we gave her some apple for lunch.

Tyler is learning new things too.  Here are his jokes:

1) Do you have a mustache?  Because I mustache you a question.
2) Knock knock
    Who's there?
    Banana.
    Banana who?
    Orange.
    Orange who?
    Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

He's also started playing with Legos instead of just duplos.  He likes the minifigures a lot, especially Emmet and Wildstyle.  I've sent off for box of random lego blocks so I can build things that aren't just out of a regular set.

Other things:

1) I'm going to PAX this weekend!  The Penny Arcade Expo.  It's my first time going, and it's just an hour down the road.  I'm quite excited, hopefully I'll have as much fun here as I do at ReaperCon.
2)  I have also come to realize I haven't painted any Minis since last ReaperCon.  I should either start or just figure I'm too busy for it for now.
3) Because I've also started practicing the Piano again.  I've gone through my book of beginning songs, and am considering getting a better keyboard and taking proper lessons.
4) A reorg happened at work, and Jessie is a manager now!  Good for her!  I'm still in test.

-N