Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Something Kind Of Cool

A few years back, I posted about another little girl named Juliana whose journey was documented on TLC. I was moved enough by her story and experience to write to her family and send a donation. Two days ago, I received a holiday card from Juliana's night nurse, Jeanne. I figured that donating money had put me on their mailing list. Along with the card, I found the following letter:

Dear Janet,

Since the note your wrote to the Wetmore's you may have seen Juliana's documentaries, Born Without A Face and Building a Face. The film crew was here last week filming another update. They were fascinated by the amount and quality of mail Juliana has received, and filmed me reading from several of the letters. As a courtesy, I am letting you know that I read a portion of the letter you wrote, because you expressed so eloquently what many people feel. I did not reveal your name or address and gave no information that would identify you, I just read the part of your letter, the part that says, "I feel like knowing about Juliana and your family has somehow made me more connected to the entire human race. I feels such compassion for her and it makes me a more caring person in general". I don't know the name of the documentary yet, or when it will be aired, but I'm sure everyone watching it will be moved by your words.

I am so amazed that something I wrote 2 1/2 years ago stayed with her and still held meaning. It was one of those little gestures that, truthfully, I almost never take the time to make. But I did and it has come back to me in a powerful way.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Guest Blogger!

Blog, schmog....who has time for this? Now I am stooping to the lowest of the low. Elissa posted a story her 8 year old started and it inspired me to post the one Juliana is currently working on. (She's 8 as well and went to preschool with Chloe.)

Consider it a guest blogger and not a cop-0ut, 'kay?


The Magic Shoes by Juliana

DEDICATED TO ALL GUINEA PIGS

Mia Watson had an unbelievable imagination. She had written stories that had even been published! There was a door in Mia’s room that had never been opened before. Mia loved to make up stories about it. One day Mia went up to her room and saw that the door was open!!!!!!!!! She looked inside saw a pair of ruby red high heels with glitter on them. Mia tried them on. It felt like she was walking on clouds. “Oh.” Mia whispered “I feel like I am floating.” Then she noticed that some of the glitter from her shoe had come off. Now it was circling her feet….

The tornado got stronger and stronger. Finally it lifted Mia of the ground!!!!! Soon the tornado stopped. Mia looked around. If you looked hard, you could see a castle in the distance. The grass was emerald green. Mia was standing in a beautiful garden. She looked at herself. She was wearing a purple silk dress. That’s funny. Mia thought. I don’t remember wearing that. Then it hit her, she had gone back in time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot believe this. Mia thought. I must be dreaming. I can’t be in the time of dragons and knights. And in this time you don’t know what will happen….

Suddenly she heard a small voice. It said, “I can help you”. A little guinea pig crawled out of the bushes. “I am Julia.” The guinea pig said. “And I want to help you.” “Oh will you?” Mia exclaimed. “Yes.” Julia said. “Let’s get started.” Mia saw a trail of rocks and a block of wood that said, HOME in big letters. “Do you think we should follow that?” Julia said sarcastically. “Well duh!” Mia said. So off they went having no idea what was in store for them….

It was not long before trouble started. The two had not been walking for long when the rocks got to a quicksand river. They could see the rocks across the river but, there was no way to get across. “Well that’s a problem.” Julia said. “You think!” Mia said. “Well, there is some wood over there. We could build a bridge.” Julia suggested. “Good idea!” Mia said. “But how can we?” Julia thought about that for a moment. “Maybe we shouldn’t do that.” She said. “We could just jump.” Mia suggested. “Okay.” Julia said. “Great! I will jump with you in my arms. Be careful.” So they jumped. “WOOOOO WHOOOOOO” The girls shouted. When they got across they started to follow the rocks again. They walked and walked.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

I Should Not Be Allowed To Live Independently

I'm not sure where to start this charming anecdote. I think I'll go with the stressful board meeting I attended this morning. The one where I savagely chewed on bagels to keep from grinding the enamel off of my teeth. And to wash down those bagels, I enjoyed about three times as much coffee as I usually have.

Fast forward to just after lunch time when my phone rang. I picked it up with such gusto that I slammed the receiver into my face. In attempting to right my grip on the receiver (and probably in recoil from the blow to my jaw), the phone flew out of my hand with such force that it hit the edge of the kitchen counter, the plastic belt clip flew off in one direction and the phone skittered to a stop on the wood floor. David picked it up and explained to my mom what happened: "Mom just hit herself in the face with the phone, then dropped it." I think it was the everyday, matter-of-fact tone he used that put my mother into such hysterics that she couldn't even speak.

Now you'll excuse me while I go check for a bruise.

Monday, October 27, 2008

A Personal Best

Last night we went to dinner at Red Lobster which is Juliana's favorite place to eat. She has a passion for shrimp scampi which probably dates back to the time I ate my weight in shrimp while pregnant with her. If you asked her to rank her favorite holidays, it would probably look like this: Chanukah, Diwali, and Endless Shrimp. Last night she scored a new personal best and ate 40 shrimp. (I am so proud! Can the hot dog eating contest be far behind?)
Luckily we didn't have a repeat of when she was six. That time she managed to down 34 shrimp. A few minutes after finishing she reported:

"I can feel them swimming around in my stomach!"

followed closely by:

"I have a lot of spit in my mouth."

I whisked her out of the restaurant and into the cold night air which settled her stomach and averted disaster. Now I just need to teach her to binge drink....

Monday, October 13, 2008

It's Way Easier To Do This Here Than On AOL

I shamelessly stole this from The Bloggess. It just gets funnier and funnier the more I watch it.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Here I am!

Well, that was completely painless. Not sure I can post without Comic Sans, though...

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Moving On

Ok, so AOL Journals is going to be gone soon.  Not sure what I'm going to do....I may transfer over to Blogger or I may just write on Facebook.  I assume most anybody who reads is already on my friend list.  If you lurk and want to keep reading, shoot me an email (Indy1016@aol.com) so I can figure out what will work best.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Lymph Node Revisited

As you all know, I started with a swollen lymph node two weeks ago.  I emailed my doctor last week and she said that if it didn't resolve over the next week to come see her.  It was still swollen (particularly in the mornings) so I made an appointment for Friday.  Yesterday, though, I started feeling pressure in the left side of my neck.  It felt like something was pushing on my throat from the inside.  It didn't interfere with swallowing, but it didn't feel normal.  I called the doctor and was able to move my appointment up to today.

My ever-helpful husband is, of course, on the other side of the continent.  That didn't help my stress level.  I went off to the doctor this morning with the very real feeling that this could a life-changing day.  I just knew that whatever I was feeling shouldn't be there.  I actually contemplated packing a bag and having it in the car since I was sure there was a good chance they were going to throw me directly into the hospital.  (Now before you think I am 100% insane, I did have an incident about 12 years ago when they sent me off to have an MRI of my brain and then threw me directly into the hospital.)

I got to the doctor's office and was so on edge that I literally jumped and yelped when the nurse called me back.

When my doctor came in, I told her my story.  She listened carefully, while typing notes into my chart.  I love my doctor because I can tell her things like my two self-diagnosis theories: 1. A spider bit my neck and now there is an egg sac growing there which will soon burst open with tiny spider babies and  2.  Clearly Lymphoma.

She got up and started to feel my neck.  She finally got to the gland I was concerned about.  She stopped to feel her own neck for comparison.  She felt my neck some more.  She then told me, "I am not even close to freaking out about this".

Her plan of action was to give it another week or so and she suggested I take some anti-inflammatories.  I couldn't believe her spectacular lack of concern.  Why was she not rushing me off for bloodwork or a CT scan?  For God's sake, she just gave me another variation of "it's probably viral".  Seeing that I was not yet willing to give up my grasp on a dramatic outcome, she did refer me to ENT.  She suggested I schedule an appointment with them and then, if things resolved, to cancel it. 

As I went to leave, she gave me one last piece of advice:  I was forbidden to touch my neck.  No poking, no pressing on the gland, no feeling for swelling, no nothing.  She then went on to tell me how she once went to her own doctor with (and she used air quotes here) "breast cancer" which was really a pulled muscle in her chest wall that she aggravated and irritated by poking and jabbing to feel the "tumor". 

I thanked her and assured her that I'd be the first to tell her "I told you so" when the baby spiders were born.  She offered to take one as a pet when that happened.  I left and I have no doubt she finished off by adding the "crazy munchausen hypochondriac" code to my chart.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Happy Rosh Hashanah!

Trying to embed....

Oh well, linking instead.


Sunday, September 21, 2008

Having A Doctor In The Family Isn't As Helpful As You Might Think

On Friday, I noticed that a lymph node under my jaw was swollen.  Earlier in the week, I'd noticed a red and itchy spot on my neck where something had bitten me.  I assumed the two were probably connected.  The next morning, though, the swelling was much worse.  Seeing as I tend toward hypochondria anyhow, I quizzed my doctor husband.  He, as usual, was unconcerned.  He, as usual, dismissed it as possibly being something viral.  He knows I hate being told that.  (Ok, sure, I once paged him at work to tell him I was positive I had anthrax.  That one did turn out to be a virus, actually.)

We had the following conversation over breakfast:

Me: Don't forget about the bite on my neck....maybe some kind of spider bit me.  Maybe it was a brown recluse!

Him:  They don't live around here.

Me:  But this isn't normal.

Him:  Does the floor of your mouth feel ok?

Me: (panicking slightly and poking around with my tongue) I think so. Yes.  Why?  What does that mean?

Him:  Just making sure you don't have any sort of infection there.

Me:  Well, what symptoms should I look out for?

Him: (without looking up from the newspaper) Difficulty breathing.

Me: (trying unsuccessfully not to shriek)  What? Don't say that!  That's not funny!  Why would you say that when you know you're leaving town tomorrow?  What am I going to do?

Him: (finally turning to look at me and speaking in a voice usually reserved for slow children):  Do you want me to show you where the 9 and the 1 are on the phone?

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Three Things

Three funny things David said today:

1.  This morning I had encouraged him to change from shorts to long pants as it was quite chilly.  By the afternoon, though, it had warmed up considerably.  Leaving school he announced loudly, "I am NOT wearing pants to school tomorrow!"

2.  Upon finding out that there is a new kid named "Coyote" in his lily-white suburban school, he said to me very sincerely, "I bet he's Native American."

3.  Ritu was watching Candy Crowley reporting on the news.  David looked at her and observed "That's a bulky lady."

Back To School

Today is the first day of school!  I'm sitting here in complete silence and I couldn't be happier.  David started 6th grade (his last year at the elementary school <sniff>) and Juliana is in third.  David has the same teacher as last year as he is in a 5/6 blend.  Juliana moved up to a new teacher, but it's the same one David had for 3rd and 4th grade so we were all pleased.  Here are the little angels this morning:



As has been our custom on the first day of school for the last three years, a group of us went out to lunch.  This year we went to a new Thai restaurant in town.  It's a lovely sunny place with those pretty jewel colored pendant lights hanging down.  As our group numbered 10, they pushed some tables together to accommodate all of us.  I was one of the last to arrive so I ended up at the far end of the table. After we ordered, I walked down to talk to my friends at the other end.  There was a long banquette running along one side, so I sat there and chatted until the waitress started bringing the food.  I got up to make my way back to my seat and as I stood, my head hit something hard.  Turns out that when they pushed together the tables, it left one of pendant lights just hanging over empty space.  Well, I shouldn't say empty space; in fact, it was the space my head was occupying when I stood up.  I tried to play it off and managed to walk back to my chair without clutching my head with both hands.  I'd hit the light with such force that it was still swinging madly on it's wire when the waitress returned and I saw her actually reach up and steady it with her hand.  Nothing says back to school like Thai food and a head injury.



Sunday, August 24, 2008

A Vote In Favor Of Online Shopping

Well, I managed to outdo myself today. 

This morning I had the chance to go shopping and have lunch with a girlfriend.  It was one of the rare chances I've had to be out and about like a grown up all summer long.  We went to an art festival where we browsed to our heart's content.  Then we did some shopping.  You know how some days nothing fits or even looks worth trying on?  Today I was having an "on" day.  I found things I liked that fit, looked good, and were even on sale.  I tell you, I was on a roll.  We stopped to have lunch at a nice restaurant overlooking the water.  My friend put it perfectly when she described our day as "civilized". 

After lunch we decided to continue shopping.  We wandered into an Anthropologie type store that I  would never usually bother with.  But I was on a hot streak!  I decided to try on some trendy tops to see if the magic would continue.  As I pulled one over my head, the collar sort of flipped and the price tag, which was made of heavy duty card stock flew up and hit me in the face.  I checked for damage in the mirror, and sure enough, the tag had sliced the edge of my nostril.  I was actually bleeding.  And did I have a tissue in my purse?  Of course not.  My friend offered to get me one, but all she could come up with was a paper towel.  The good news is that I managed to not bleed on any of the merchandise.  The bad news is that I had to walk back to the car with a wadded up, bloody paper towel pressed to my face.


Friday, August 22, 2008

Adventures With Laundry Baskets

It comes as a shock to exactly no one that I am what you might refer to as clumsy.   One of my major downfalls is the seemingly innocuous laundry basket.  This is especially problematic as I do laundry on pretty much a daily basis.  On successive days last week I had the following adventures:

I was carrying a basket filled with clean, folded laundry upstairs.  As I know I have a problem gauging widths with the basket in front of me, I made sure to turn it so that I was holding it lengthwise, thereby eliminating the problem of fitting through doorways.   At the top of the steps, I turned to enter my bedroom.  I knew I'd make it smoothly into the room so I was moving at a fairly good clip.  Turns out that I'd neglected to calculate the need for a larger turning radius with the basket sticking that much further out in front of me.  I realized this when I turned to the left but instead of moving effortlessly into the bedroom, I hit the right side of the door frame with such force that the air exiting my lungs made an OOOOOFing sound loud enough for the children to come check on me.  By the grace of God, I managed to avoid pinballing myself right back down the stairs.  In the midst of all this, I found myself thinking what an extremely effective Heimlich maneuver this would make.  (Sure, you're laughing now, but you'll be thanking me when this little trick saves your mocking, black-hearted life.

The very next day I carried a basket of dirty sheets and towels down the stairs.  Lesson learned, this time I made sure to hold it the regular way.   As I passed by the downstairs bathroom on the way to the washer I decided to grab the hand towel and add it to the load.  I shifted the laundry basket under my left arm and side- stepped into the bathroom to reach for the towel.  My momentum into the bathroom was halted, yet again, by the width of the basket.   Like that claw thingy that Batman throws, the basket had effectively locked me in place.  I stretched out my right arm towards the towel.  No good.  I bent my knees and reached again. So close.  No way was I going to let that son of a bitch basket win.  Using it to my advantage, I let the tightly wedged basket counterbalance me as I made one final lunge towards the towel.  Success!  Suck it, laundry basket!!   Honest to God, I felt a surge of triumph.  At, um, overcoming my own stupidity and lack of spatial ability. 

<sigh>

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

I Promise!

Where has August gone?  Maybe you, like me, have had your time sucked away by the Olympics.  You know, where you stay up late watching things that you would never watch if they weren't Olympics?  Like, say, water polo? Or women's softball?  But I can't blame my lack of blogging entirely on patriotism.  I had a few other major distractions like plowing through the Twilight series in a couple of weeks.  (I think there is a special place in literary hell for me because I started To Kill A Mockingbird, then put it down 1/3 of the way through to whip through the last three Twilight books.)  Also, I may have developed a teeny-tiny new addiction to Facebook.  It reminds me of my old days on AOL (all 13 years of them).  You can sign on and see if your friends are there!  You can chat!  Look at pictures!  Send those mystery hatching eggs!  Superpoke!!

Are those enough excuses?  My point is that tomorrow we leave for 6 days in Sunriver and I plan to do a nice chunk of blogging while we're there.  So, get nice and comfy there on the edge of your seats. 


Now I'm off to update my Facebook status.



Friday, August 1, 2008

Juliana's One Woman Show

Over 4th of July, we spent a few days in Seattle.  I enjoy traveling;  I like the sight-seeing, the change of scenery and being removed from the daily grind of meals and laundry.  But there is one thing about traveling that makes me never want to leave home: having my entire family in one hotel room.  When the kids were younger, it was mainly about trying to get them to fall asleep with us right in the room.  Many an evening was spent sitting on the floor outside the bathroom trying to read by the crack of light filtering through the door.  Now that the kids are older,  we have fights about who has to sleep together.  Often we'll end up with a boy bed and a girl bed.  On our first night in Seattle, we ended up getting a roll away bed so the kids didn't have to sleep together and so that I could actually share a bed with my husband.  (This of course led to a $20 charge and more fighting over who had to sleep on the roll away.  (That would be David as he is the high maintenance sleeper in the family.))

That night, I fell asleep fairly early but around 11:30 I was awakened by Juliana making fussy sounds.  I got up and checked on her, but the covers were pulled over her head and I thought she was asleep.  I climbed back in bed but soon heard her thrashing around and whimpering some more.  I got up yet again and pulled the covers back only to find her on the verge of tears saying, "I'm so tired by I can't sleep because of Daddy's loud snoring!" 

I stifled a laugh, snuggled with her, and she fell right asleep.  In the morning she put on this one woman show to demonstrate her night. How I wish I'd had a video camera.  Hopefully the still photos will do the trick.

"This was David"

(gentle snoring)


"This was Daddy"

( loud snoring)


"This was Mommy"


(such angelic sleeping!)


"This was me"


(gritted teeth and frustrated whimpering)

Monday, July 28, 2008

Quotable Quotes

Juliana, as we entered the large walk-in freezer at Costco: "Now I know what a waffle feels like."

In other news, David has twice now used the phrase "That's what she said" correctly.  I am so proud.  Of course, it doesn't help that he has a mother who, after spotting a neighbor emptying two water containers, explained to him why it would be both funny and inappropriate to yell, "Nice jugs!" out the car window at him.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Relay for Life 2008

On July 12th, my family participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. Relay is a 24 hour event dedicated to raising money to fight cancer along with taking time  to remember those who have lost their lives to the disease and showing support for those who are currently battling it.  If you have a Relay event in your area, you should definitely check it out.  While some people (like us) pitch a tent and hang in there for all 24 hours, the entire event has an almost carnival like atmosphere.  There are games, bake sales, auctions, and all sorts of fun activities to raise money for the ACS.  The Relay part of it is that each team tries to have a representative out walking the track for the entire 24 hours to symbolize how cancer never takes a day off.  (Our team managed walkers for 21 and a half hours, so um, maybe cancer took a quick nap?)

Last year we participated mainly because our good friend was one of the event co-ordinators.  Our team raised a good bit of money and we had a lot of fun, so we were looking forward to this year. 

Our family is fortunate in that we haven't been touched directly by cancer.  Fighting cancer has pretty much been an abstract concept for us.  This year, in the span of about a month, we found out about three people we knew who were diagnosed with cancer.  Well, four, if you count Emma.  Which I do.  One was the grown son of one of my friends, one is a mom who has a son on David's soccer team, and the third is a very dear friend of mine named Susan. 

I first met Susan on the old AOL Pregnancy Pal message boards back in 1997 when I was pregnant with David and she was pregnant with her son, Joseph.  Even after the board split up (like they always do!)  Susan and I have been part of an email loop that has lasted all these years.  Although I've only spent time with her in person once, we have a shared history that runs deep. 

Susan is still in the process of being fully diagnosed.  She has Stage 1 breast cancer and so far, things are looking cautiously optimistic.  Susan is lovely, gentle, and even-keeled.  She tolerates my sarcasm and evil humor beautifully and I'm sure she spends plenty of time praying for my soul.  ;-)  Anyhow, Susan, this year I dedicated my Relay experience to you. 



Well, not sure if you can read that....but I had her name on my back.

Our event is held at the local high school and as the sun goes down, the track is lined with luminaria bags.  Each one bears the name on of someone who has been affected by cancer.  Here are some of the luminaria bags made in support of Susan.



And here's one Juliana made.  Note the guinea pig with halo and wings.




If you would like to donate to my Relay for Life team, just let me know.  Even though the event is over, contributions are still being accepted into August.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Holding Pattern

I'm thinking we are never going to name this pig.  Juliana and I are leaning towards Juniper.  David remains adamant about Sparky.  I'm getting emails pushing Polly.  And there's a disgruntled contingent displeased that Gigi didn't make the list.  In the meantime, we're still calling her Smoky (Smokey?) and the good thing about that name is that it has immediately lent itself to a number of good nicknames which, if you were not aware, is eminently important in a guinea pig name.  Smoky has already been called Smoky-Dokey-Artichokey, Smokely-Dokely, Smokester and The Smokinator. 

In other news, here is my injury of the day:  David left the toilet seat up and when I went to put it down, the lid came down with it and banged me on the arm hard enough to leave a nasty bruise.  Last week I gave myself a second degree burn on my thumb when I attempted to take a cake out of the oven and managed to position the pot-holder incorrectly.  I wonder if anyone would read a blog entitled Injuries Du Jour...

Thursday, July 17, 2008

I Am The Guinea Pig Whisperer!

Today's Update

Here's a Smokey and Spots update:  We moved Smokey's cage almost right up against Spotty's and suddenly they discovered each other.  Spots spent a lot of time last night up on her hind legs staring at Smokey.  Smokey, who is mellow as can be and seems mostly interested in food (I don't think she was optimally cared for at her old home and I figure she thinks she's on a cruise right now what with the constant eating available) didn't seem bothered by Spots and her scrutiny.  At one point, though, Smokey hauled her big fluffy self over to look at Spots and they spent some time sniffing at each other and chewing happily on the bars of the cages.  We've had them each separately on the floor having "run around time" so I think they are gradually getting used to each other's scent.

Also, here are the name suggestions from the blog/email so far: Lassie, Bob, Jumana (still haven't googled this and not gonna risk it with my 8 year old here reading along!) Joe, and Gigi.  (Juliana just said.  "I think the best one so far is Gigi.  Did you let them know it's a girl?  Gaga suggested Bob because she's Gaga.  <sigh>")  I'm not sure you people are really applying yourselves where guinea pig names are concerned!

More later.  The kids and I are going out on a friend's boat this afternoon, so providing we don't meet a watery death, I'll type up Juliana's name list this evening.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Introducing!

Yesterday we adopted a new guinea pig.  We'd hoped to get one from the Humane Society, but after two weeks of patiently waiting for an appropriate one to be available for adoption, we looked at other options.  Monday I found one on Craig's List that looked promising, and after emailing back and forth with the current owner, we drove over to meet her.  This family had adopted her (also from Craig's List) a few months ago, but seeing as they had a baby, a toddler, two dogs, and a cat they had their hands full and not enough time or energy for her.

She turned out to be a beautiful silver agouti guinea pig.  Agouti guinea pigs have thick fur and each individual hair has two colors.  In her case, she has black fur with white tips. Her chin and belly are pure white.  Did I mention how gorgeous she is?  Here, see for yourself.....







Isn't she a crack up?  She is big and fluffy and looks like a chinchilla/rabbit/squirrel/marmoset/guinea pig.  Two people have already likened her to a silverback gorilla.  (When my mom saw her, her first words were: Jesus Christ!  She's huge!)


So far we have her in the small cage until we can work on introducing her to Spots.  Hopefully they will get along nicely.  She came with the name Smokey, but I think we're going to change it.  Juliana has a list with dozens and dozens of potential guinea pig names.  Maybe I'll figure out how to put a poll on here and let everyone vote.  In the meantime, we're open to suggestions!






Edited to add:  Dammit, getting the red rectangles again.  Help!  Gonna try something different,.

Monday, July 7, 2008

At Least He's Honest

David:  What's for dinner?

Me:  I've already told you three times.

David:  I know.  I just like to hear the sound of my own voice.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Moving Forward

Well, it's been a week.  The mirrors are all uncovered again and we're moving forward. Thank you all for your kind words.  Sarah, your poem was especially awesome!  I'm going to cut and paste it here so everyone has a chance to see it.
 
                   A TRIBUTE TO EMMA

                  Emma, Emma, the beloved pet
                  Emma, Emma, they took you to the vet
                  Your passing has left a sad, sombre mood
                  Dying......not the best way to show your gratitude

                  Emma, Emma, sweetest little pig I never did meet
                  Emma, Emma, the blogs about you were always a treat
                  Yes, Indy's blogs about you were always fanatic and kind
                  Yet, sometimes I wondered, "Has she lost her mind??"

                  Emma, Emma, blog readers shared in your life through internet post
                  Emma, Emma, your passing will therefore be felt coast to coast
                  You've been immortalized by Indy whose blogs were funny and savvy
                  I just pray she's forgotten about wanting that big, gawky cavy!

                  So, dear Emma, on to greener pastures you go
                  You were truly the bestest guinea pig I never did know


Emma is buried under a tree in the backyard (and well, there were a lot of roots under that tree which made it hard to dig, so she may be more like planted than buried) and Juliana made a lovely marker for it.

I've got a bunch of houseguests coming tonight for the weekend, so I've been busy getting ready for that.  In the meantime, here are a few picture.  This was taken the morning of the surgery.  I commented on Juliana's cute outfit and she informed me that she had "dressed like Emma".





She was an excellent piggy.  We all miss her little tilty head.  I miss the way she would nuzzle into my hair and lick my chin.  I think by middle of next week we''ll start looking for a new companion for Spots.  She's seemed rather subdued, and I think a friend would help.



Edited to add: Sorry for the tiny pictures.  My pictures were showing up as red blocks (not even just the dreaded red X) and then when I went to try and add them again, they were red blocks on Snapfish!  They look fine as thumbnails, but when I try to see the larger view, I get a big red block.  So all I could post were the thumbnails.  Any ideas?

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Well, Hell

RIP Emma 10:35 PM

Emma

We brought Emma home around 6:30 this evening.  She's still pretty out of it.  Her procedure ended up being a bit more complicated and invasive than they thought and they also found an abscess in her right ear which accounts for the lingering head tilt.  She's on three meds right now and has to be syringe fed a special mixture. Her belly is all shaved and the poor thing looks like she's been gutted.  The vet said that with a regular spaying, she would've perked up by now but because she had so much done to her plus the underlying abscess, she's going to take longer to bounce back.  Right now she's a mess--can't stand or walk, won't eat--and I'm doing my best to stay optimistic. 

Oh, and all the extra things they had to do ended up doubling the cost.  I may need to get a job just to pay off the vet bill.    I'll post more when there's something to report.

Ready For Summer

It's 6:15 AM.  I got up at 5:30 and fed Spots and Emma their breakfast.  Emma and I had a nice long snuggle and now she's isolated in the "sick bay" which is our spare, small cage.   Ritu is going to drop her off at the vet on his way to work.  You'll be comforted to know that she seems calm and resolute.  I've seen no indication that she is struggling with the loss of her womanhood.

Now I'm sitting here with my coffee and laptop.  I considered getting back in bed, but today is the last day of school and I thought I'd enjoy some early morning quiet time.  I'm actually thrilled about school ending.  I'm so ready to be done with schedules and time commitments and packing those damn lunches.  (Here's a great post from Deana that sums up exactly how I feel about summer break.) 

Thus far, June has been cold and cloudy, so it's hard to get entirely into the summer mindset.  Allegedly, the weather is going to break today, but I'll believe it when I see it.  One of my friends is convinced the weather people are involved in a vast conspiracy to keep us all from cracking.  He says that every night he watches the news and they tell him that tomorrow will be cloudy, but the next day it will be sunny.  He makes it through the cloudy day and again checks the weather.  Again he is told tomorrow will be cloudy, but the NEXT day the sun will come out.  That elusive sunny day never arrives, but it's always right there keeping us hopeful.  (It's June 12th and I believe we've had exactly one sunny day this month.  And not only that, it's been cold.  Like, drag out your warm jacket cold.  Like, yesterday one of my friends had gloves on cold.)

I have lots of grandiose plans for the summer.  I got  energized the other day and decided to devote the summer to painting a bunch of rooms in my house.  (Hey!  It could happen!)  I want to find new places to go on nature walks.  I want to go berry picking.  I want to spend some time each day reading aloud to the kids.  Mostly I want to spend long lazy days sitting out in the greenspace with my friends while the kids run and play.

If you have fun ideas for summer activities, leave me a comment and let me know.  I saw a cool one that involved giving each kid a skein of yard and letting them wrap it all around a stand of trees until they've created a big spider web fort. 

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

For Everything Else, There's MasterCard

Well.

You know and I know that only one thing could bring me back to blogging:




It's time for another round of Adventures in Guinea Pig Medicine!

About a week and a half ago, I picked up Emma from the cage and noticed a large lump on her underside, close to where her right rear leg attaches to her body.  Wanna see?

(And God love Snapfish.  You know how they want you to buy their products by superimposing your photos on calendars etc?  Snapfish just suggested a lovely mug emblazoned with Emma's lump.)

She seemed perfectly happy and was eating and acting just fine.  Nonetheless, I took her to the veterinary practice and had an appointment with the same vet who saw her when she had her last head tilt episode.  This vet is a wee tiny little Asian woman and I love her completely.  She is so knowledgeable and sweet and it doesn't hurt that she refers to Emma as "Gorgeous".  She asked me some questions and pointed out a symptom I had overlooked, namely a thinning of her fur on her rear leg. 



After palpating her sides and abdomen she had her diagnosis.


Adorable Tiny Vet:  I'm pretty sure she has cystic ovaries.
Me: Well, really, who doesn't?

Apparently cystic ovaries are a very common finding in guinea pigs.  (I'll admit to never once even considering that my guinea pig HAD ovaries.)  Cystic ovaries result in an increase in estrogen production which causes a proliferation of mammary tissue.  That accounts for the lump.  Who wants to guess how they solve this situation?  I'll give you a minute to think about it.

Did you guess a tiny little guinea pig hysterectomy? 

I asked the following questions:  Isn't she a bit old (we think she's around 4 years old and a guinea pig's life expectancy is 5-7 years) to deal with the surgery?  and also: What happens if we just don't do anything?  The vet told me that she has spayed guinea pigs as old as 5 1/2.  As for leaving things be, over time the extra estrogen will begin to form tumors.  She also said something about Emma's uterus eventually filling up with <gag>  pus <barf>.


She wanted to do a needle biopsy on the lump to rule out any sort of abscess.  She also offered to trim Emma's nails for me.  She took her to the back to do these things and I sat there anxiously waiting for my baby to be returned to my care.  I cringed when I heard the high pitched squeal that guinea pigs make when they are in pain.  Finally they returned and the vet told me there was no sign of an abscess and she felt confident in her diagnosis.  Then she told me Emma was perfectly fine with the needle biopsy; it was the nail trimming she had objected to.

The vet printed me up an estimate of the cost of the surgery and told me to think about what I wanted to do and then call her back.  The proposed cost of the procedure plus bloodwork plus pain meds came to $235.  I collected myestimate and my guinea pig and went to pay the $99 fee I had incurred that day ($48 for the office visit, $11 for aspirating the mass, $25 for cytology, and $15 to trim her nails).

Soooooooo, on Thursday morning I'll be dropping Emma off between 8 and 9 AM to get spayed.  They are going to run bloodwork before the procedure to make sure she is healthy enough to withstand the anesthesia and if all goes as planned, we'll be able to pick her up after 4:00 PM the same day.  When I scheduled the surgery, the tech informed me that Emma needs to be fasting after 6:00 AM.  Yes, my guinea pig requires that I wake up at 5:30 to feed her breakfast, then place her in solitary confinement until it's time to take her to the vet. 

But how could I resist this gorgeous pig? 

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Checking In

I've just got time for a quick check in.  I've got a bunch of family coming in this week for my dad's funeral and Passover.  Saturday night, I'm having 22 people for a sit down dinner for the first night of Passover.  That will be a charming follow up to Friday morning, when we're having a private graveside burial for my Dad.  We'll be burying his cremated remains which the funeral home refers to as "cremains".   Every time I hear that word, I think  they've mixed his ashes with dried cranberries....

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Doh

So, here's something kind of funny about when your dad kills himself.  And by "kind of funny" I mean "horrifyingly morbid". 

Let's say your dad shoots himself and even though you don't know exactly how it happened (was he calculating and determined? scared and tearful?) and you only have a vague idea of where (in the hall outside the bathroom) you still manage to create an image of it that appears unbidden in your head when you try to do things like, say, fall asleep.  And after spending a few weeks with this image your mind returns to it with such frequency that it almost becomes comforting.  And then you suddenly remember Oh shit!  He was left-handed. And you have to adjust the image accordingly and start all over again.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Confessions of a CF Husband

Are you guys reading this blog?  http://cfhusband.blogspot.com/

I just found it a few days ago and it's absolutely riveting.  The blog is written by Nate who is married to Tricia.  Tricia has cystic fibrosis and was on the waiting list for a double lung transplant until she found out she was pregnant. Her baby, Gwyneth, is doing well despite being born 12 weeks ago at 25 weeks gestation.  A donor lung match was found today and Tricia is, at this very moment, undergoing a double lung transplant. 

With everything going on in my life, I'm thrilled to root for  people who are desperate simply to live, love, and raise their child. 

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

My Dad

Thirteen days ago I was awakened by a phone call from my uncle telling me my father was dead.  I know some people prefer the term "passed away" but to me, that conjures an image of someone gently slipping from life.  My dad went out with a bang.  Literally.  He shot himself in the head.

My dad and I did not have a close relationship.  He struggled with an addiction to pain medication for most of my life.  This addiction caused him to lose his medical license, spend time in jail, and ultimately commit suicide.  Whether from the extensive drug use or perhaps from undiagnosed Asperger's, my dad did not know how to connect with people the way most people do.  We used to call him Mr. Spock because he was so much more comfortable with logic and rationalization than with emotion.

Over the past ten years or so, my father and I hammered out a semblance of a relationship.  This meant talking on the phone maybe 4 or 5 times a year and me sending updated pictures of the kids twice a year.  In the past few years, my father began sending me books he'd read that he thought I might like. He'd call and ask if I'd be interested in a book about building bridges or sea battles or zeppelin flight.  Yes, I'd say.  Yes to everything.  Then the books would arrive sometimes with a scrawled note attached to one saying "Don't miss this one" or "Superb dialog".  I read some of them and put the rest on my shelf.  They were books I never would have chosen for myself and they were fascinating. 

In the past few years, my father also started ending conversations by saying "I love you."  I was surprised the first time he said it, but managed to say it back.  When he died, I was at peace with the relationship we had.  It wasn't much, but it was a small connection.  I think it was the best he could offer me and I accepted it as such.  Now that he is dead, I am saddened but not heartbroken.  That I am only saddened is the part that breaks my heart.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Death and Disneyland

We've had some bad news here at HinJew central.  I found out Wednesday morning that my dad had died Tuesday night.  We weren't close but it still came as a  huge shock.  I plan to write more about it, but right now we're at the Portland airport getting ready to board our flight to Disneyland.  In the midst of all the misery, I am happy to be spending my spring break with my family making happy memories.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Cork Floor Pictures

First things first....Juliana and her beloved mechanical pencils!


Next we have pictures of the Michigan office:


Here are some close ups of the cork floor.  It comes in rectangular "planks".  This gives you a good look at the grain.  The floor itself is perfectly smooth because it comes with two layers of polyurethane already on it.



Here's where it meets the wood flooring in our entryway.  It looks a lot darker in this picture than it actually is.


Today, after letting it sit empty for 5 days, we finally started working on putting the furniture back in.  Exciting stuff!  Except for one small thing.  The polyurethane ONCE AGAIN started coming up everywhere the furniture made contact with it.



Somebody come kill me.









Friday, March 14, 2008

Blah Blah Blog

Let's see, where have I been and what have I been doing?

For starters, the Zoloft has reached a nice, therapeutic level.  Oh, did I forget to mention my clinical depression and need to start on meds?  Ooops. Silly me.  The good news is that I'm feeling like my old self again and only drag out the depression diagnosis when I need some sympathy (like forgiveness for sporadic blogging) or to get out of something (like being on the PTA board).

In general things have been going well.  I was busy with Juliana's birthday (and yes, rest assured she did indeed receive mechanical pencils along with her olives) and then we spent a weekend in San Francisco to witness my niece do a spectacular job at her bat mitzvah.  After that we had science fair projects to finish, a viola concert, and the beginning of the spring soccer season.  In addition to all my regular school and synagogue volunteering, I'm taking an adult ed class through the synagogue that meets twice a month. 

Also, we're still working on the office.  You'll remember that I finally finished removing the wallpaper.  Did I show pictures of the walls now painted in official licensed University of Michigan colors?  Ritu and I (and Ron The Floor Guy) decided to put down a cork floor in the office.  We felt it would reflect the mood of the room better than a more formal wood floor.  Plus, fraction of the price, people.  I grew up in a house that had a cork family room floor, so I was all for it.  We chose a nice dark color that looks almost like leather.  Ron came and installed it and put down an extra coat of polyurethane which was great until two days later then the polyurethane began to separate from the cork.  I am not kidding when I say that you could peel the polyurethane off like you were peeling dried Elmer's glue off of your hands.  I am also not kidding when I say that the kids were actually asking to help peel the floor.  Trusty Ron came right back over and (with our enthusiastic help) spent two days getting the coating peeled off.  He put down a different type of polyurethane which seems to be holding thus far.  Ritu put together the Ikea desk that's been in boxes since November and we plan to start moving furniture in this weekend.

Lastly, I've started watching America's Next Top Model.  Seems like everyone I know watches it and I've never been organized enough to get in on the beginning of a season.  Oh, what delicious fun!  I could do without all the squealing though.

I'm off to take pics of the office.  I'll try to get them uploaded soon but please remember that  <insert weak eye-blinking here> I am clinically depressed.


Sunday, February 17, 2008

Happy Birthday, Juliana!

Birthday wishes DO come true!




Tuesday, February 12, 2008

I Want Whatever She's On

Today at breakfast, Juliana remarked "I feel like we live in a crayon box because of all the colors around us."

On the walk to school she showed me a wet splotch on the sidewalk that resembled a butterfly and a rock that looked like a heart.

For her birthday she has asked for five cans of olives and a mechanical pencil.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

An Eggsellent Adventure

I live in a lovely subdivision that was once farmland and pastures.  Most of the houses are about 15 years old and the neighborhood is built around numerous large, open greenspaces.  There are cul de sacs and cherry trees, lots of sidewalks and a friendly feel.  The one exception to the uniformity of the subdivision is a small, rundown, older house hidden behind an overgrown tangle of bushes.  A collection of rusty vehicles and machinery  sits alongside the house and as you walk by, you can sometimes hear roosters crowing.  This is the last remaining holdout of the original farms.  I have no idea who lives there, nor do I have any idea how much land is back there or what goes on there.  I never see anyone going in or out.  The only thing that ever changes is that every now and then, a hand-markered sign on a piece of cardboard that simply says "eggs" appears on the mailbox.

When I made my decision to eat more locally, I announced that the next time I saw the egg sign, I would march right up there, by God, and buy some eggs.  The mystery of the house had me concerned, though.  I was partially convinced that the sign was simply there to lure unsuspecting women who would then be kidnapped, killed and have their eggs harvested and sold.  Or possibly have their eggs harvested, then killed.  I'm not entirely sure of the proper sequence.  The place is a little scary is what I'm trying to say.

Today my friend Karen and I took our daughters and went for a walk,  On the way home, I noticed that the egg sign was up.  I stopped in my tracks to decide what to do.  Juliana was all for it, so I summoned my courage and we crossed the street.  We climbed the crumbling front steps and knocked on the door.  A young man opened it and I inquired about the eggs.  He said he only had one dozen and that it cost $2.  I told him I'd take it.  I only had a five dollar bill and he went to look for change, leaving the door open.  The inside was dark and smelled musty.  He came back unable to find change and I told him not to worry about it. I took my dozen eggs (packaged in an old Trader Joe's carton) and we walked back to Karen's house.

The eggs were various sizes and shades of brown, except for one which was best described as green.  I immediately started to second guess my purchase.  I have a slight egg issue, as it is.  Every time I go to crack an egg, the fear of some slimy, three-quarters formed chick falling into my bowl flits across my mind.  God knows what I would find inside these eggs.  Probably mutant baby alligators.  With this on my mind, I gathered up my children and my eggs and got ready to go.  I double checked my plans to walk in the morning with Karen's husband Jimmy.  "Probably not", he said, "since you'll be suffering from dysentary."  Ever helpful, that one.

When dinner time arrived, we grabbed the camera and got started.



I mentioned that green one, right?



Here you can see the variation in size next to (as Laura Ingalls would say) a boughten one.



First we cracked a regular egg for comparison's sake.  Then I thoroughly rinsed three of the other eggs.  Juliana did all the cracking.  Here's a side by side comparison with the store bought egg on the left.



Immediately you could see a difference.  The yolk was larger and more richly colored.  The white was more plentiful, glossier and firmer. 

Here's another one.  Still consistently better colored.  Not sure if you can see how much higher the yolk was than the store bought egg.


Here's the store bought one.



We braved the green one.  Here's David looking scared of it.



Juliana got to work scrambling them up.  The color was exquisite.




Turns out these eggs were delicious.  They cookedup so fluffy and there was a firmness to them that was delightful.  Unlike the scrambled eggs I'm used to that are slippery and have to be scooped up with your fork, these were light and tender, but dense and didn't fall apart when the fork hit them.


The kids ate every last bite.  And so far, no dysentary!


Friday, February 1, 2008

Too Funny

Hi!  Remember me?  I used to blog here?  Well, I'm back.  Slowly, but surely. 

Anyhow, this was way too funny to pass up.  It's Sarah Silverman's tribute to Jimmy Kimmel on his anniversary show.




Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Crafty New Year!

I am so totally not a Martha Stewart type, but on New Year's Day we had a small brunch and Juliana and I decided to make party favors.  She pored over her Pink Princess Cookbook and we finally decided to make fortune cookies with happy messages to start the New Year off right. 


First, she brainstormed fortunes.  Here's a partial listing of what she came up with.  (Could she be more full of sunshine?  I swear, a career at Hallmark awaits her.)

Your pets will be funny, cuddly, cute, & and awesome!

Hope this year is full of fun and learning!

Hope all your dreams come true.

May every day be excellent this year!

Have a great adventure this year.

Spend the year laughing.

Hope everything you learn is exciting.

Hope your world is full of friendship.


(I'll admit to adding one that said "Hope Voldermort doesn't get you this year." and another that said "Your hair looks great!"

We tried to print out the fortunes on some nifty vellum paper but all it did was jam the printer, so we settled for regular paper and cut each one out with those scissors with the patterned edges.  (See, I told you I wasn't crafty.  I assume those scissors have an actual name.)

Then we made the cookies.  The recipe is so cute and easy.  Basically you start with a refrigerated pie crust, roll out any wrinkles and cut it into circles using a 3 inch round cookie cutter.  You place a paper fortune on the circle, fold the dough in half, then fold it in half the other direction.  Brush the top with a little water, dip it in colored sugar crystals and bake until it's golden brown. 



After they cooled, we were ready to package them.  We'd visited a couple of party stores to find small Chinese take-out containers in assorted colors.  We used a bag of cellophane shreds to make a nest in the bottom for the cookie to rest on. 




We made a dozen so that
each person got a box with a single fortune cookie inside.