1. So Halloween is this weekend, if you haven't heard. Are you gonna open your doors up or not?
Nope. I'm going out! One of my best friends turns 40 a couple days before Halloween and is having an '80s party. We bought wigs and all kinds of crazy stuff, it's going to be a great time.
2. You better open 'em cuz I'm coming... what are you putting in my treat bag?
Nobody will be here. Don't waste your time. :)
3. Since October is the bestest month for television (well for cable & dish subscribers it is) and there is a horror movie on at any given time of the day - are you sick of them yet?
Not a horror movie fan, sorry. Though "Silence of the Lambs" was really good, and "The Sixth Sense"--do those count?
4. Which one of those movies can you watch over & over again?
The only horror movies I can watch are the cheesy old ones like William Castle, "Straitjacket", "Homicidal", or ones riffed on by Mystery Science Theater 3000/Rifftrax/Cinematic Titanic like "Screaming Skull", "The Brain That Wouldn't Die", etc.
5. Tell us about a Halloween scare you've had....
Halloween has never been scary for me. It's always been fun.
6. Did you watch the old Casper cartoons when you were a youngin? Well, back then they weren't old I suppose, but I'm sure you still understand my question.
I remember them being on, but I don't remember much about them. My favorite Halloween-themed cartoons involved Bugs Bunny and Witch Hazel, Bugs Bunny and Gossamer (the big orange monster), or other spooky Looney Tunes characters.
7. Have you ever found a four-leaf clover?
I have. I found one in Dena's yard a couple of years ago.
8. Haunted Houses... you know, the kinds you pay to get in and they chase you with chainsaws and severed heads.... do you like 'em?
Not really.
9. Do you use cute cartoon type wrapping paper for Christmas presents or the not cutesy paper? Or are you one of those gift card and/or gift bag people?
I use what's cheap. Sometimes I don't wrap at all. The gift is more important, and who has time? Gift cards are a great gift. I love them!
10. How long do boiled eggs need to stay in the boiling water before they become hard boiled eggs?
I'm not sure, I never got the hang of it. Mr. Salted is the cook.
11. Jason is coming in through your front door... Freddy is coming through your back door... zombies are at every window of the house and Norman Bates is calling to invite you to dinner... what do you do?
Force myself to wake up!!!
12. Did you know that the scariest part of Halloween is giving all of your Reese's Peanut Butter Cups away?
The scariest part for me would be having Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the house to begin with! Even the sugar-free ones are awfully good.
13a. If you were to play a part of a haunted house (not the ghosts in the attic kind), what would you want to be?
I'd want to be the person in the coffin that came to life.
13b. Have you ever played a part in a haunted house?
Nope.
14. If Thursday Thunks had a Halloween party, what do you think Kimber & Berleen would come dressed as?
Ketchup and mustard.
15. Do you cook a turkey for Thanksgiving?
We go to our friends' place every year and they usually cook turkey and prime rib.
16. Have you ever read a book that scared the pants off of you?
"Sharp Objects"--I think the author was Gillian Flynn. I know it was Gillian Something. Stephen King can write some pretty scary stuff. The psychological stuff scares me more than the gore.
17. Whats the predicted high temperature for today?
50 degrees
18. Have you ever howled at the moon?
Many times! :)
19.You are in an alley and a werewolf and a vampire are coming at you - one of them has to win. Which one do you want to bite you?
The cute one!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
"Suture self."
Yesterday was a marathon.
I believe I spent a recent blog entry grousing about how my health insurance provider will only cover bloodwork if the draw is taken at a contracted lab (if a contracted doctor takes a draw at his contracted office and sends it to the lab he uses, they DON'T cover that--I found this out the hard way)--and how they gave me contact information for four labs, two of which are several states away.
Well, in all their infinite wisdom, the insurance company gave me the wrong address for the lab I needed. It was raining to a horizontal degree, the kind of rain that makes you think about designing an ark. The city we had to go to had streets numbered in a way I can only deem "full of clusterf**ky goodness". We couldn't see a blessed thing, and were happy the cops didn't show up--this was a nice neighborhood. 139th Place, 139th Court, and 139th Avenue were all connected and facing each other. Mr. Salted was the driver; we were armed with a Thomas Guide, a cellphone GPS, AND a Mapquest printout. Still, we drove around for about ninety minutes, ending up back at the same house each time--the address existed, but was a private residence in a completely residential neighborhood. We finally called the labs, got the correct address of the one that answered their phone, and the cellphone GPS led the way.
The lab had opened at 7:30 AM, and we were trying to make it there as close to opening as possible because I had to fast for the blood draw. Fasting makes me rather irritable; my blood sugar gets very low. I've learned to carry a South Beach cereal bar or some kind of snack to inhale the minute they tape the cotton ball to the inside of my elbow. We left our house at 7 AM; it was 9 AM by the time we found this lab, which was supposed to be just half an hour from our house.
The appointment to have my ankle sutures removed was at 11:30. They took another x-ray, which looked "just like you want it to look," according to my surgeon. My foot was all bruised dinosaur skin, still tinged yellow with iodine from the day of surgery. I had to hide my face when he started removing the sutures so I wasn't watching him do it. "This freaks me out pretty bad," I confessed. He told me it freaked a lot of people out and tipped the chair back for me. I looked through a magazine while he did the deed. Once he was done, he wrapped it in an Ace bandage and told me I could walk on it, IN THE BOOT, now, and that I could get it wet the following day. He told me to take it slow and keep the scooter for a couple more days. (Hell no! I wanted to be rid of that thing and not pay any more rent on it--we returned it.)
None of the places we had to go were anywhere near each other--the lab was half an hour south of our home, and we had time to stop back by in between; the ankle surgeon was 45 minutes from home another direction, the place we rented the scooter from was about an hour in another direction. We ended up getting home about 2:00 PM. I asked Mr. Salted to take the day off with me; the suture thing freaked me out that badly. I felt like a total weenie, but it was nice to have my partner there with me. (We filled out the FMLA paperwork for this very reason, after all.) I was so glad he was with me. The surgeon instructed me not to stop icing my foot, so I iced, popped Demerol and napped for the remainder of yesterday. The ankle hurt quite a bit.
So today was the momentous day: I was allowed to wash my foot! What an occasion! Goodbye, iodine, dead skin, wayward leg hair! It was/is hard to make myself touch the sutures. They are tender, look painful and, well, they're gross. I found out rapidly that it was not a good idea to let them touch anything, even the bed; they need to be on an additional cushion or reasonable facsimile of one, even with the foot covered with an Ace bandage and a sock.
The surgeon instructed me to rub lotion into my scars--Vaseline Intensive Care or the generic equivalent, something with aloe or Vitamin E--massaging them for 20 minutes twice a day. My response: "You mean I have to touch it?" (Insert the sound of a visceral reaction combined with shuddering and disgusted facial expressions here.) I was on the phone with my nurse friend this morning while I did the lotion thing for the first time; it made me feel better for some reason. I hope I will get used to this!
I was supposed to return to work tomorrow, but my ankle hurts quite a bit, I'm tiring very easily, and I get nauseous when I get up and walk around much. I am going to see how I feel; I may need to stay out another day or so.
I believe I spent a recent blog entry grousing about how my health insurance provider will only cover bloodwork if the draw is taken at a contracted lab (if a contracted doctor takes a draw at his contracted office and sends it to the lab he uses, they DON'T cover that--I found this out the hard way)--and how they gave me contact information for four labs, two of which are several states away.
Well, in all their infinite wisdom, the insurance company gave me the wrong address for the lab I needed. It was raining to a horizontal degree, the kind of rain that makes you think about designing an ark. The city we had to go to had streets numbered in a way I can only deem "full of clusterf**ky goodness". We couldn't see a blessed thing, and were happy the cops didn't show up--this was a nice neighborhood. 139th Place, 139th Court, and 139th Avenue were all connected and facing each other. Mr. Salted was the driver; we were armed with a Thomas Guide, a cellphone GPS, AND a Mapquest printout. Still, we drove around for about ninety minutes, ending up back at the same house each time--the address existed, but was a private residence in a completely residential neighborhood. We finally called the labs, got the correct address of the one that answered their phone, and the cellphone GPS led the way.
The lab had opened at 7:30 AM, and we were trying to make it there as close to opening as possible because I had to fast for the blood draw. Fasting makes me rather irritable; my blood sugar gets very low. I've learned to carry a South Beach cereal bar or some kind of snack to inhale the minute they tape the cotton ball to the inside of my elbow. We left our house at 7 AM; it was 9 AM by the time we found this lab, which was supposed to be just half an hour from our house.
The appointment to have my ankle sutures removed was at 11:30. They took another x-ray, which looked "just like you want it to look," according to my surgeon. My foot was all bruised dinosaur skin, still tinged yellow with iodine from the day of surgery. I had to hide my face when he started removing the sutures so I wasn't watching him do it. "This freaks me out pretty bad," I confessed. He told me it freaked a lot of people out and tipped the chair back for me. I looked through a magazine while he did the deed. Once he was done, he wrapped it in an Ace bandage and told me I could walk on it, IN THE BOOT, now, and that I could get it wet the following day. He told me to take it slow and keep the scooter for a couple more days. (Hell no! I wanted to be rid of that thing and not pay any more rent on it--we returned it.)
None of the places we had to go were anywhere near each other--the lab was half an hour south of our home, and we had time to stop back by in between; the ankle surgeon was 45 minutes from home another direction, the place we rented the scooter from was about an hour in another direction. We ended up getting home about 2:00 PM. I asked Mr. Salted to take the day off with me; the suture thing freaked me out that badly. I felt like a total weenie, but it was nice to have my partner there with me. (We filled out the FMLA paperwork for this very reason, after all.) I was so glad he was with me. The surgeon instructed me not to stop icing my foot, so I iced, popped Demerol and napped for the remainder of yesterday. The ankle hurt quite a bit.
So today was the momentous day: I was allowed to wash my foot! What an occasion! Goodbye, iodine, dead skin, wayward leg hair! It was/is hard to make myself touch the sutures. They are tender, look painful and, well, they're gross. I found out rapidly that it was not a good idea to let them touch anything, even the bed; they need to be on an additional cushion or reasonable facsimile of one, even with the foot covered with an Ace bandage and a sock.
The surgeon instructed me to rub lotion into my scars--Vaseline Intensive Care or the generic equivalent, something with aloe or Vitamin E--massaging them for 20 minutes twice a day. My response: "You mean I have to touch it?" (Insert the sound of a visceral reaction combined with shuddering and disgusted facial expressions here.) I was on the phone with my nurse friend this morning while I did the lotion thing for the first time; it made me feel better for some reason. I hope I will get used to this!
I was supposed to return to work tomorrow, but my ankle hurts quite a bit, I'm tiring very easily, and I get nauseous when I get up and walk around much. I am going to see how I feel; I may need to stay out another day or so.
You know, I haven't had Chinese for a long time...
You Are General Tso's Chicken |
 You have a flair for the dramatic, and you like to sample all of the world's flavors. You like to bring on the heat, both in life and at the dinner table. There's not a dish too spicy for you. While you tend to go for the more daring choices on the menu of life, you're the type of person who tries everything. You know there's no way you can predict what you'll like or dislike, so you just dive in and give it all a go. |
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Weird week
The ankle seems to be holding up, and I am extremely grateful. I'm not needing as much pain medication. Tomorrow I go in and get the sutures and/or staples removed (I'm not really sure if there are staples). Both times I've seen the ankle it looked pretty nasty to me, but the nurses and doctors have always said it "looked good". I'm not a fan of having sutures and/or staples removed; it hurts more than they tell you it will, and it makes me rather queasy. Sugar-free Wint-O-Green LifeSavers are my non-drug nausea standby. I'll definitely pack a healthy amount in my purse.
My very first boyfriend from waaaay back in the day found me on Facebook a few days ago, and we ended up talking on the phone for a couple of hours, catching up. We were friends before and after our brief "thing", but lost touch about twelve or thirteen years back. It was great to hear from him and that he is doing well--we're both doing a lot better than we were when we knew each other best!
I just learned about NaNoWriMo and the 12-scene outline (if you had to outline your entire story in 12 scenes, what would they be?), so I decided to make the outline. It was actually easy. My PC's hard drive is taking a long and laborious crap and needs repairs (a new CD drive, mostly), so I transferred all my manuscript bits to the laptop. In so doing, I discovered I had a great deal more done than I thought I did (on this thing I've been trying to write forever that feels hopeless bordering on albatrossesque), and that encouraged me. I transferred some other pieces, too, mostly things I wrote and workshopped to death when I was getting my BA; reading them made me wistful. I don't feel an MFA is currently in the cards for me for a number of reasons--mostly financial--but I'm trying not to be completely discouraged and say never. I am still considering a post-baccalaureate Technical Writing Certificate because I think it would be more practical (not to mention lucrative).
Yesterday, Mr. Salted and I hit Party City to prepare for an '80s party we are going to this weekend. We're going to look great--especially him, because he can fit into everything--but I procured some flamboyant accessories for myself that will get the job done. I have enough Chucks and Vans to outfit the average elementary-school class, and our feet are the same size, so we're covered there.
Granny remains in the care center and has not felt well. I haven't heard much else.
I am supposed to return to work Wednesday. It will be good to get out of this house and earn money again.
The weight still creeps off. I'm glad I got a digital scale, because I can see the fractions of pounds as they leave--a pound every two or three days. I've lost fifty pounds now, and am not quite at three months out.
The fifty-pound figure is a bit of a bugaboo with me. I have managed to lose that increment--fifty pounds--using "natural means" in the past, but never more than that. Fifty pounds is a lot--unless you need to lose another 80 or so. I am at the lowest weight I have been in about fifteen years, which is great--but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I've always been this freak of nature that could not lose more than a couple of pounds a month no matter what I did, so it's always in the back of my mind that this surgery will not work for me in the long run. My determination to prove that fear wrong is much stronger than the back of my mind thing.
Another weird thing this week--I was looking at pictures on my PC's hard drive, because I'm trying to back them up before I send the tower in for repairs. People keep telling me how my face has changed, and I was amazed at how right they are. I deleted a lot of pictures of myself--I didn't see the need to keep them. I'm not going to destroy all "before" pictures of me, (a) because there would be none left, (b) because there are good memories in them, and (c) because it wouldn't be the truth. We take a lot of pictures, though, and there were definitely some I can do without.
My very first boyfriend from waaaay back in the day found me on Facebook a few days ago, and we ended up talking on the phone for a couple of hours, catching up. We were friends before and after our brief "thing", but lost touch about twelve or thirteen years back. It was great to hear from him and that he is doing well--we're both doing a lot better than we were when we knew each other best!
I just learned about NaNoWriMo and the 12-scene outline (if you had to outline your entire story in 12 scenes, what would they be?), so I decided to make the outline. It was actually easy. My PC's hard drive is taking a long and laborious crap and needs repairs (a new CD drive, mostly), so I transferred all my manuscript bits to the laptop. In so doing, I discovered I had a great deal more done than I thought I did (on this thing I've been trying to write forever that feels hopeless bordering on albatrossesque), and that encouraged me. I transferred some other pieces, too, mostly things I wrote and workshopped to death when I was getting my BA; reading them made me wistful. I don't feel an MFA is currently in the cards for me for a number of reasons--mostly financial--but I'm trying not to be completely discouraged and say never. I am still considering a post-baccalaureate Technical Writing Certificate because I think it would be more practical (not to mention lucrative).
Yesterday, Mr. Salted and I hit Party City to prepare for an '80s party we are going to this weekend. We're going to look great--especially him, because he can fit into everything--but I procured some flamboyant accessories for myself that will get the job done. I have enough Chucks and Vans to outfit the average elementary-school class, and our feet are the same size, so we're covered there.
Granny remains in the care center and has not felt well. I haven't heard much else.
I am supposed to return to work Wednesday. It will be good to get out of this house and earn money again.
The weight still creeps off. I'm glad I got a digital scale, because I can see the fractions of pounds as they leave--a pound every two or three days. I've lost fifty pounds now, and am not quite at three months out.
The fifty-pound figure is a bit of a bugaboo with me. I have managed to lose that increment--fifty pounds--using "natural means" in the past, but never more than that. Fifty pounds is a lot--unless you need to lose another 80 or so. I am at the lowest weight I have been in about fifteen years, which is great--but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I've always been this freak of nature that could not lose more than a couple of pounds a month no matter what I did, so it's always in the back of my mind that this surgery will not work for me in the long run. My determination to prove that fear wrong is much stronger than the back of my mind thing.
Another weird thing this week--I was looking at pictures on my PC's hard drive, because I'm trying to back them up before I send the tower in for repairs. People keep telling me how my face has changed, and I was amazed at how right they are. I deleted a lot of pictures of myself--I didn't see the need to keep them. I'm not going to destroy all "before" pictures of me, (a) because there would be none left, (b) because there are good memories in them, and (c) because it wouldn't be the truth. We take a lot of pictures, though, and there were definitely some I can do without.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Spill
I took a spill on my scooter yesterday--trying to maneuver through a tight area of the house, I somehow lost my balance and fell, with most of my weight on the bad leg. The bad leg basically kept me from the floor. It's supposed to be non-weight-bearing, and it's hurt more since then, so I went into the surgeon's office today. He was out of the office, so one of his partners took x-rays and looked at my ankle.
The x-rays looked good to him as far as the bones go. It was too soon to remove the sutures, and if I did any tissue damage, there really isn't a test to determine that. He said the swelling was about what one would expect for this far out from surgery.
There is hardware in my ankle and I'm starting to be able to feel it in there, so I don't know if some of what I'm feeling is normal healing pain or if I ripped something.
I see my actual surgeon on Monday.
The weight is still creeping off at a glacial pace, and today I am tried a new calcium citrate product--they are lemon cream chews, available from BariatricEating.com, and they are v., v. good.
Speaking of BariatricEating.com, I am going to try and join in their live chat support group tonight. I keep meaning to, but either forgetting it or not being in the mood.
The x-rays looked good to him as far as the bones go. It was too soon to remove the sutures, and if I did any tissue damage, there really isn't a test to determine that. He said the swelling was about what one would expect for this far out from surgery.
There is hardware in my ankle and I'm starting to be able to feel it in there, so I don't know if some of what I'm feeling is normal healing pain or if I ripped something.
I see my actual surgeon on Monday.
The weight is still creeping off at a glacial pace, and today I am tried a new calcium citrate product--they are lemon cream chews, available from BariatricEating.com, and they are v., v. good.
Speaking of BariatricEating.com, I am going to try and join in their live chat support group tonight. I keep meaning to, but either forgetting it or not being in the mood.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Nocturne
I'm a little concerned about my nocturnal eating habits. I'm not a good sleeper, never have been--and sometimes I wake up hungry. I've been lectured about eating during the night--one doctor went so far as to assert, "You're not hungry, it's just a bad habit". Of course, if it were up to doctors, no fat people would never eat anything ever again until their ribs could be counted (she snarked, peevishly).
Back when I was on Ambien, I was binge eating during the night with no memory of doing so--we would find the evidence in the morning. That was a legitimate problem. This isn't binge eating and I'm conscious for all of it. I'm awake, my stomach growls, I go and get a snack. They are gastric-bypass-friendly snacks, like sugar-free Jell-O or string cheese or a South Beach cereal bar. Sometimes I take a Muscle Milk back to bed with me, sip on it and finish it in the morning.
I eat so little now, I wonder if this is even a problem. If I could reliably sleep through the night, maybe I wouldn't want to eat. Sometimes I do sleep through the night, and usually the first thing I do in the morning is eat because I'm hungry.
I know in an ideal world, sleep isn't interrupted for food. I'm debating whether to even discuss this with the nutritionist or one of my doctors--I don't want to make more of it than it is. I'd be more worried if I wasn't losing weight, or if I was finding mystery crumbs and packaging in the morning.
Back when I was on Ambien, I was binge eating during the night with no memory of doing so--we would find the evidence in the morning. That was a legitimate problem. This isn't binge eating and I'm conscious for all of it. I'm awake, my stomach growls, I go and get a snack. They are gastric-bypass-friendly snacks, like sugar-free Jell-O or string cheese or a South Beach cereal bar. Sometimes I take a Muscle Milk back to bed with me, sip on it and finish it in the morning.
I eat so little now, I wonder if this is even a problem. If I could reliably sleep through the night, maybe I wouldn't want to eat. Sometimes I do sleep through the night, and usually the first thing I do in the morning is eat because I'm hungry.
I know in an ideal world, sleep isn't interrupted for food. I'm debating whether to even discuss this with the nutritionist or one of my doctors--I don't want to make more of it than it is. I'd be more worried if I wasn't losing weight, or if I was finding mystery crumbs and packaging in the morning.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The blahs
This is my last week at home with the ankle, barring natural disaster. I am REALLY getting stir crazy. My grandmother checked herself into the hospital a few days ago and it looks as though she will be going back to the same care facility. It took less than a month for this to happen; I hope they keep her this time, but the last time it was bungled so badly that I expect nothing. They've run a bunch of tests on her and don't know what the matter is. Though I'm not directly involved, it seems all I have to do is hear her name and I get a migraine--I've been fighting one for days.
I watched Michael Moore's movie "Sicko" yesterday, finally; it was great, but I have always been a fan of his, whatever medium he uses. Coincidentally, I had to call the insurance company today to try and find a laboratory in their network where I can have my bloodwork done. The insurance company gave me the numbers of four laboratories. Two of them were located in the Midwest. Two were in my state, but nowhere near being conveniently located; neither have Saturday hours, so I will have to miss work to get blood draws. It seems to be par for the course.
I watched Michael Moore's movie "Sicko" yesterday, finally; it was great, but I have always been a fan of his, whatever medium he uses. Coincidentally, I had to call the insurance company today to try and find a laboratory in their network where I can have my bloodwork done. The insurance company gave me the numbers of four laboratories. Two of them were located in the Midwest. Two were in my state, but nowhere near being conveniently located; neither have Saturday hours, so I will have to miss work to get blood draws. It seems to be par for the course.
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About Me
- Salted with Shadows
- Seattle, WA, United States
- This blog focuses largely on a personal journey to and through weight-loss surgery. It's also about reading, writing, animals, photography, love, humor, music, thinking out loud, and memes. In other words...life.
