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.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Saturday, March 28, 2015
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
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
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
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....
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....
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
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.
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.
Monday, January 19, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
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
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
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