Worst Vacation Attempt Ever

This is old news now - but the shear volume of typing necessary to tell this story has scared us from the blog entirely.
But now, the story shall be told (on the blog. It's had more than its share of being passed down in the oral record.)

Memorial Day Weekend: Needing a vacation, I took the whole week off. But we also decided decided it would be a good time for a long weekend road trip to Missourri to see my brother, sister in law and the adroable sack of cutness that is our niece, Morgynn. So Amy got friday off, I carved another half-day off out of my Friday afternoon, and we were on the road by 2:00pm Friday.

It was a hot day, but otherwise a good drive. Until we approached Terra Haute. That's when Amy's overheating light popped up on the dashboard. So... off to the side of the road. Pop the hood. Everything look OK. No plumes of milky steam. A higher level of coolant than maybe there should be on a hot engine. Probably just too much AC on too hot a day with a car that isn't used to it. No problem. Wait a few more minutes. Get back on the highway. And pull over again half a mile later. Repeat the primitive diagnostics scan. Everything still in order. A longer intermission. One more time back on the road. And Overheating light and check engine light within a mile (and less than 2 miles from the Terre Haute exit).

Sidenote: we have resisted getting a cell phone for years. Amy dislikes the idea of anyone being able to reach her anytime, anyplace, and I just don't talk enough to justify the expense. By a stroke of syncronicity, I had purchased our first cell phone three days earlier. Thank God.

So, new cell phone in hand (and fully charged, because i also decided to by a car recharge unit), we called for a tow-truck. The freindly/surly tow man took us to a nearby place off the next exit, with food and lodging nearby. The repair shop would be open first thing in the morning, and took business on a first come first serve basis. He also suggested that, hungry though we were,we'd be wise to get our hotel first, because, although there were a number of hotels visible within a mile, it was getting lat, it was Memorial Day weekend, and, most dooming, we were an hour from Indianapolis - which, Memorial Day weekend, means the Indy 500. Which meant rooms would be unusually scarce.

We didn't have to look long, but that may have been luck of the draw. We got the last nonsmoking room of the first two hotels (side by side, owned by the came chain) we checked. There was only one other smoking room. Which, sadly, might have gone to the woman and her three pre-teeners who came in just after us, also with car in tow.

A good, late dinner and up early the next morning. But not early enough. We arrived at 7:40, ten minutes after opening, and they already had all three garage stalls open and working, and a few cars waiting to get in. they had us in by 9:00, and by 10 were able to deliver the news. the news being of the not good variety.

It wasn't anything as simple as a shorte fuse or temperture gauge misread. It was probably the water pump. But they weren't sure, didn't have the part anyway, and were already booked for the day even if they could get the part. Which they couldn't. But they were willing to check around for someplace that might be able to help. And found one. Nearby. Close enough that we could drive to it without any car trouble.

It was maybe 2-3 miles away. Halfway there, the check engine and overheat lights popped back on, beeping shrilly for the remainder of the very long-feeling short drive. But we made it. The mechanic, another freindly/surly sort, said of course they couldn't fix it at the other place, they were all idiots over there, and went to have a look.

Rex returned within half an hour asking us if we had any plans for the day, because we might want to consider doing some car shopping. By their diagnostic scans, the problem was engine related. A cracked cylinder. Which wasn't supplying adequate power to the water pump, which is why it wasn't working (if this sounds like mechanical hogwashery, chalk it up to my mistranslation and inaccurate memory. I was also getting counsel from my stepfather--also named Rex, but we'll call him by the less personal 'stepfather' to avoid confusion--via the wonders of the newly purchased cell phone. He concurred it was unlikey, but possible, and the method for checking it was right).

So, that's an engine repair/replace. On a 2000 Volkswagon Bug. In a town with no volkswagon dealership. On a weekend. And a busy holiday weekend at that. And this sort of repair was out of Rex's comfort zone. His experience on Bugs just didn't run that deep. And it'd be 2 grand. At the very least.

No dealership. No available parts. No experienced Volkwagon mechanic available. No time. No luck.

And no idea what to do next.

Rex's shop was open through and including Memorial Day. He offered to let us store the vehicle there, until Tuesday rolled around and it could be dealt with. And that was all well and good. But we were still stuck in Terre Haute. and almost certain not to find lodging one night closer to the Indy 500. And Amy had to work Tuesday. So we couldn't wait around even if it were an option. And the thought of having to coordinate with an unknown mechanic 4 hours from home and drive back to pick up the car later wasn't settling too well either.

Fortunately, stepfather has a car-hauler. Unfortuneately, stepfather also live in Durand, Mi, 7 hours from Terre Haute, and surely had plans of his own for Memorial Day weekend. But it seemed the least unpleasant of the few options we had. So I calledmom to ask her, um, if this was the sort of favor I should even ask, or if this would be kind of an abuse of the convenience of his having married into the family not even three years ago. She put him on the phone before I could gauge the appropriateness. And I explained the situation (what I hadn't explained already on previous calls) really hoping he might feel terrible for us and offer to pick it up on his own. He did feel terrible for us. That was clear. But the offer didn't come up. so back to my mom, and, hesitantly, expaining the akwardness of what I was thinking before being put on the spot. So she discussed and said they could, could we at least pay for their gas. Which would be at least $200. My response: Heck, yeah. And dinner and a hotel if you want it.

Either thinking of my own financial well being or wanting to exhaust one last option so he didn't have to take 14 hours out of his weekend (wouldn't blame him), stepfather suggested that it might actually be cheaper to find someone to tow it straight from Terre Haute to South Bend. So, with Rex's help, I called aorund, found a place willing and able to tow it, and then we got to the cost. Roughly $900. Soooo stepfather and mom would be driving down to pick up the car in the next couple days.

Now, with all that taken care of, we turned to moving ourselves along. decided we'd shell out for the rental car and continue out trip. But guess what. Rental car places, all of them, are closed for the weekend by Saturday noon. And it was now 1:00. We even tried calling the (still open) Enterprise at the Indy airport to see how far that "we'll pick you up." slogan carried. Not as far as Terre Haute.

So, since clearly getting ANYWHERE would be a challenge, we shifted gears towards just getting home. And asked if there was a bus station nearby. And there was. 3-5 miles away. And a very nice woman watching our melodrama playing out before her offered to drive us there when her car got done in a couple hours. And Rex, also with a front row seat to the whole production, said, "Hell, Wilma, you can take 'em in my truck right now," and tossed her his keys.

So, at the Greyhound station, we baught our tickets back to South Bend. South Bend to Indy, a two hour break, switch busses to Chicago, a half hour break, and switch busses to South Bend, arriving 2:50 am, local time. At least we'd be home.
I think we got the last two seats to Indy (for the buss we took. We could have chosen to wait for a slightly later buss to Inday, but decided, if we were going to have to kill 2 hours, we'd rather do it in Indy). And our time in Indy wasn't bad. Would have been nice if it had been the plan. Got some food, browsed a bookstore, and back to the bus station.

And the bus pulled in. The busdriver and some passengers got off. And...nothing. Being familiar with boarding commuter trains and more standard passenger trains, and figuring this should be similar, I said to myself: "Seating will be first come first serve. I'd rather spend the trip to chicago with my wife than a stranger, so we'd best get on now. I would expect this to be more like a standard passenger train, where people line up and get there tickets checked while they board. but there is no line. and the bus door is wide open. So it must be more like a commuter train and they get your ticket once you are on. And if not, its their own damn fault for leaving the bus door wide open and unattended or not clearly designating what the procedure is."

So I urged Amy to get on the bus. Who still had more patience than me and a greater concern about following rules even if they are not clear. So she asked someone on the bus "do they check our tickets when we are all onme, or are we supposed to show someone before we get on." and of course, the asnwere was "before we get on".

This really pissed me off. Because I was tired and impatient and what the fuck were they going to do, kick us off because no one was there to check our ticket before getting we got on? But now, at amy's insistance, we had to disembark and stand around and wait. And while we were standing around waiting for someone to come to the buss to take out ticket so we could legitimently get on the buss, a whole crowd of people clustered at the doorway inside the station. The bus driver came to the door at the front of the cluster and started checking people tickets, who then walked past us and on to the bus.

And thus my pateince snapped.

I was there first. I had been waiting 20 minutes, in clear sight of any number of Greyhound employees. And now I was going to be the last one on the bus and have to sit next to some smelly, sweaty stranger for 4 hours because Geyhound doesn't believe in posting a simple fucking "line up here" sign and any number of people who surely knew this unspoken, unwritten rule could have tapped us and said 'hey, if you're waiting to get on the bus, you'll need too line up over there", and my wife had to be too much of a goody-goody to just let us sit on the bus and wait for them to figure out we screwed up because of their scrweed up system. BULLSHIT. Someone was getting an earful of something!

But damn Amy again, she wouldn't let me. And this time, she was right (I still say we should have stayed on the bus when we got on the first time. It's there problem for not educating their customers on boarding procedures). I probably would not have gone so far as to get us banned from our bus, but someone else was already cause quite a stir, a policeman was already sorting out that altercation, and my ranting probably would have had authorities against us quicker than for us.

So after 15 minutes on the bus I lightened up and let it go. At least I did get to sit next to Amy, after she asked someone if they would switch seats.

And on our way to Chicago, the bus made a breif pit stop. "Get your snakcs and get back on, "said the busdriver, "you've got ten minutes." and what had to be 30 minutes later, the bus left the truck stop.

We arrived in Chicago at 12:18, wondering if maybe the busdriver forgot to set her watch back before announcing the time. We got of, checked out tickets and frantically set out to figure out where we needed to go to catch out connecting bus, which could leave any minute (again, yeah Greyhound for making everything so clear). While I was trying to decifer the departures arrivals board, Amy snuck away and came back long faced. "Our bus left 8 minutes ago."

The ticket counter people told her that our ticket was still good for the next bus to South Bend, whihc would be leaving at 7:15 AM. so we could wait in the bus station in downtown Chicago until then, or there was a hotel a few blocks away. And though I was tired, I thought this might be a more appropriate moment to pull out the hint of outrage that my irritated but exhuasted self could muster.

I walked up the the "customer service" desk, holding my temper but clearly frustrated. The 'customer service representative' gave me a very monotone "Can I help you, sir".

Not sure where to being, I said as much, and handed her my ticket. This seemed as good a starting point as any.

She looked up at me, blank-faced, and said, "You missed your bus, sir."

And I explained, in the halting, akward manner of someone who is very angry, very tired, very frustrated, and very much trying to be reasonable, that i was well aware of this, that I missed it because of poor scheduling and a bus drivers whim to take a 30+ minute "ten minute" stop whith only 30 minutes time between the connecting bus schedule, and what was Greyound going to do to get me to my destination on schedule or otherwise make good on the situation.

And she looked up at me, with all the expression of a sack of potatoes, and said, "That's what you get when you take public transportation, sir."

Now, THIS would have been the appropriate time for me to go apeshit. But really, how can you argue with that. When you go to the customer service desk, and complain about poor service, and the customer service representative's response is "that's because we have bad service" -- there's pretty much no place to go from there.

So we went to the $$$ hotel, got a good night's sleep, and took the South Shore commuter train into South Bend late the next morning.

It took us 4 hours to get as far as Terre Haute. It took us 44 hours to get back home.

Eye really don't know what happened.

My big fat freak-show of an eye, circa 5.18.06, about 6:45 am. I'm considering charging admission.

Morning of Mystery or I Didn't Coldcock Tony

Really. I do not remember punching him in the eye while we slept last night. Nor does he remember waking up after having been punched. However, he woke up about 6:30 this morning, went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to find a very swollen and red left eyelid staring back at him. By the time I saw it it was already starting to turn purple.

The emergency room is very quiet before 7:00 am. We decided to go because we didn't know how quickly it would progress or if it even would. When did it start? Sometime between midnight and 6:30. If it started at 1:00 it was probably a slowly progressing process. If it started at 6:00 then it might get even bigger and start sloughing skin before our physician's office opened. As things turned out, the bruising progressed into an even more magnificent black eye. The emergency room physician isn't quite sure what happened so Tony's applying cold compresses (you are applying cold compresses, aren't you, Tony?)and he can take Benedryl just in case it's an allergic reaction or Tylenol if it becomes painful. I'm still wondering if it's a very poorly placed spider bite, but the physician doesn't seem to think so.

Anyway, if see Tony over the next few days, be nice. It's got to be terrible to wake up and discover that you have an unexpected black eye. It's got to be even worse to have everyone you see ask if your wife gave it to you.

Comics Jam War - winners announced

So, some time among Bob's trials, I was participating in the first
Comics Jam War. The Jam War is sort of an organized follow up to 24-Hour Comic Day.

The 24-Hour Comic is an exhausting excersize - creating a lot of comic book in a very small span of time. 24 pages in 24 hours, compared to professional industry standards of about a page a day (and thats just the pencils - no writing, lettering or inking).

Jam War takes the basic premise and relaxes it, then turns it into a competition with cash prizes. Eight pages in 12 hours, and you get to work in teams. Compared to a 24-Hour Comic, this is a leisurely pace. But still crazy fast.

Anywho, I had the good fortune to partner with a writer who I think is going to be quite the up and commer and an artist who is amazingly fast, talented, and doesn't like inking his own work, so I did that part, along with the lettering and digital compositing.

So, April 1st, our team and 7 others gathered at BuyMeToys.com in Mishawaka. Only teams working out of offcial (fee paid) host stores could enter (over 100 teams entered from US and Canada... I think Canada, Maybe Mexico? I forget, but it was over 100). We had a blast. 12 hours of blood sweat, tears, giggling and ink. In the end, 5 of our location's teams finished, and two of the books looked especially promising.

And in the end... One of those books took first place honors. The other, my team, recieved honorable mention this means that of the 100+ teams, our will be one of the seven chosen to be published in the upcoming (July) Jam War book. That, and 10 copies each of the book, is our award. And the joy of the experience and pride in the accomplishment.

Not ready to die yet!

I got the update from Dr. Warzee this afternoon. Bob is doing great! She was able to pull his thoracic drain tube this morning. He is eating. AND he's sulking because he has a bandage on his chest. That sounds like my boyo!

According to my source on the inside (thanks Jess!)the lung lobes are being processed today and will be set for evaluation tomorrow. I'm excited to see what type of nastiness was removed. I'm also a little bummed that I won't get to see the mass itself. I'd look to go eye to eye (or eye to tumor as it were) with the bugger and do my best squinty-eyed glare. Of course, I'd also kind of like to stomp on it but that's not professional. Or really very helpful. Yes, perhaps it's best left in Jessica's hands now that Dr. Warzee's have extracted it.

So, Saturday Tony and I will be driving up to E.L. to pick up our skinny little guy. Then we'll start fattening him back up in preparation for chemotherapy or the next surgery. I'm not going to worry too much about that now. I'm just thrilled that he's decided to be with us for at least a little while longer.

The Big Day

Yesterday Bob and I arose at 5am and set out for East Lansing at 5:50. Bob's sedative again worked well and this time I remembered to order caffiene from the 24 hour Starbucks. I was actually able to feel the intestinal mass on Sunday and was a little worried that once again the plan would have to change.

Things were not looking so hot when we got up to M.S.U. Bob was down to 6 pounds, 10 ounces. This is more than a pound lost since his first visit last month. It's also just about half of what his normal (slightly pudgy) weight is. What was extra scary is that he has actually had an appetite over the last 10 days. Dr. Warzee could also feel the intestinal mass. When I left the plan was to repeat the chest radiograph to check for metastasis, repeat the abdominal ultrasound (I wanted to know how much the intestinal mass had progressed) and repeat a CBC. CBC stands for complete blood count. I had run one, with a chemistry panel, last week but he looked a bit anemic to Dr. Warzee and because of the resolving abscess his white cells were a bit high on my CBC. Pending any disasterous findings, surgery would be today.

I was all done by 9:20 and left Bob to Dr. Warzee. After some aimless wandering around downtown, I decided to just head for home. I stopped for some additional caffiene and hit the highway at about 10:30. It was gloomy, rainy and cold. The temperature had actually dropped from the very early morning. Not a pleasant 2 and 1/2 hours, but I was very thankful for the heater and the windshield wipers. And, I got home in time to take a toasty warm shower before work.

I go to work and had a message from Dr. Warzee. The ultrasound showed no change in the intestinal mass (must just be easier to feel because he's sooooo skinny now), but the radiologist felt that the chest mass might actually be in the lung rather than the mediastinum. The mediastinum is the structure that supports the heart, the trachea and the major blood vessels and lymph nodes within the chest. Different surgical approaches are needed for the lung (usually cutting ribs) versus the mediastinum (midline sternotomy - going through the breastbone itself). Would it be OK to perform a CT scan to confirm where it is? Yes.

This morning, I got the news: the mass is in the right cranial lung lobe, but given the size a sternotomy will still be the best approach. Anesthesia will start at 9:00 with the thoracic mass removal first, followed by debulking the leg mass if Bob is still stable.

As soon as I arrived at work I got the second call. The mass was indeed in the right cranial lung lobe. This was removed along with the right middle lung lobe because there were some suspicious nodules there. The mediastinal lymph nodes were too small to locate, but there was adherence to the mediastinum and the cranial vena cava (very major blood vessel). He's recovering from anesthesia and so far is doing well. The debulking was not performed because he was getting cold and there had been a blood pressure drop, but that's perfectly OK by me.

So, Bob's down 1/3 of his lung tissue but also down a very nasty tumor. Not certain yet when he'll be returning home. That's going to depend upon fluid accumulation in the chest, but he's made it this far!

General updates

I went to the dentist this week! The alarm did not go off on Monday morning so I woke up in a half-doze and thought, "Wow, it's light out and Tony's alarm hasn't gone off. I wonder how much longer I have to sleep?" I rolled over, looked at the clock, read 7:25, yelled a few expletives. Yelled something about getting up to Tony. Then, grabbing my robe so as not to flash the neighbors, rushed to the kitchen and downed my four capsules of amoxicillin. The directions were to take it an hour before my 8:00 appointment. Fortunately, our alarm clock is a little fast. I actually enjoyed the appointment. I like having my teeth cleaned. The dentist was quiet and focused, but not in an unfriendly way. I did have to a have a couple of fillings and he was very thorough in making sure that my bite was comfortable and there were no sharp edges afterward. So now, after the initial exam and echocardiogram and consultation with my physician I can finally say that I have clean teeth!

Bob is doing OK. He's still skinny (lost 2 ounces over last weekend), but he surprised me on Tuesday by chasing Colfax away from her dry food. If he wants to eat dry diet food instead of fatty canned food, more power to him. He's not been so good about the litter box so he's been shacked up in the cafe room with the doves when Tony and I can't supervise him. It also keeps Colfax out of the aforementioned fatty canned food. This prevents further butt bites as well. Tuesday is the next trip up to East Lansing. Hopefully Bob can have the surgery and all will settle down for a bit!

So Far ...

Bob is eating OK.

Colfax has been behaving herself.

No inappropriate urination or defecation.

Only one bout of vomiting.

Things are peaceful since the abcess burst.

I hope that it lasts until Bob's appointment on the 25th.

Bob and Colfax

We have another cat. Colfax is the queen cat in our household. Colfax is not pleased that Bob is getting canned cat food and yummy baby food to encourage his appetite. This means that I do a lot of chasing her away from Bob whe he is eating and removing his food when is done eating. Why? Because he will not stand up for himself. If she comes by he will stop eating and wander off to the nearest pillow to lie down. Colfax has gotten quite fat over the past few weeks. Bob has not seemed to lose more weight, but he is still between 7 and 7 and 1/2 pounds. Skinny skinny skinny Bob. Oh, and when Colfax eats canned food she vomits. Often on the furniture.

Sometime over the weekend the hostilites intensified. Bob was feeling very dumpy yesterday. Didn't want to eat, didn't want to follow Tony around the house. He wasn't even concerned that Tony and I were eating ribs within feet of where he was sleeping. "Crap", I thought, "he's thinking about dying again". So this morning I was super excited to see him wandering around and hear him complaining to me about something (lack of food? noisy birds? his assessment as to the best and worst non-litterbox places to urinate and defecate?). I picked him up and noticed that the fur over his right hip was really unkempt. Since this illness began he's been known to sit in the canned food, so possibly that was it. I looked closer. The skin was red and inflammed and there was a small amount of pus draining. I see a lot of cat fight injuries. Colfax had actually bitten him in the butt over the soft cat food!

Animals don't have a lot of correlation in their long term memories. The bite probably happened 2 or 3 days ago. So, I couldn't yell at Colfax. No, I just had to take Bob to work, restart antibiotics and ask Katie to clean his purulent butt up. Oh, and I've had to cancel his Thursday M.S.U. appointment. So, the tumors get a little break. Also, Colfax threw up a large part of bob's morning meal on one of the couches. Again, not a very good long term correlative memory.

Sigh .

More of Bob

Sorry about the delay. Our computer at home has been down.

The ride home on Sunday was pretty good. I was planning on trying it without sedation, but Bob vomited before we'd gone four miles, so out came the ace. He's been happy to be home, wanting lots of attention. His appetite isn't great, but he'll nibble on baby food and seafood flavored cat food. He apparently enjoyed tuna and sardines at M.S.U. so I'll have to pick up a can on my way home. He is pooping, too, so no intestinal perforation!

I actually had the chest rad taken this morning while I was in surgery. It hasn't gone away. In fact, it seems a little bigger to me. I'm going to give Dr. Warzee a call this afternoon and we'll move to the next plan. Most likely the chest mass is a thymoma and surgery is going to be the option. Since Bob is on prednisolone, I probably won't be taking him up for surgery until I can wean him off. Probably next week.

I just looked up thymoma in the magical Textbook of Veterinary Internal Medicine by Ettinger. Go figure, true thymomas are uncommon :). However, outlook is good with surgical resection, especially in well-encapsulated, discrete tumors. We definately have well-demarcated on the rads, so I'm going to consider that discrete. Thymomas also tend not to spread, so that leaves the origin of the intestinal tumor open. I think I feel good about the thoractomy, though. Bob's weight loss, lack of appetite and depression could also be attributed to a thymoma. Won't know for sure until pathology comes back, but it sounds like a probable diagnosis.

Bob

Anyone who has visited our home, even if only to deliver a pizza, has met Bob. Bob is quite possibly the coolest cat ever. Without a doubt he is the sluttiest . He loves everyone. Bob also has a mass in his chest. Right in front of his heart. Right cranioventral lung lobe about the level of T3 to T5 for the other medical nerds out there. I discoverd this about 2 weeks ago when I was running preanesthetic tests so that I could remove a tumor on his leg. On a whim, I took chest rads. I am so glad that I did because much as this sucks it would have sucked that much worse to have him die on my surgical table.

So, what do you do when you are a veterinarian and your sweet boyo has a mass in his chest? Well, you show the rads to your boss, just in case maybe your eyes are on the fritz (I think that this would count as denial in the stages of grief). You discuss performing a thoracotomy at your practice to remove the mass. You realize that a) you don't have a ventilator so someone will have to breathe for your pet the entire time and b) there's that ugly dying on your table fact rearing its ugly ugly head. So, you e-mail your husband and ask him to meet you at work to go over the films.

What happens next? Oddly enough, with Tony there I went into discussion-with-client-mode. I showed him the rads, explained what I was seeing and what the options were and realized what I offer a client. Not surgery by me without a ventilator. Not kitty hospice. No. I would recommend my client go to see an oncologist. I broached the topic, along with an estimated price tag that I will not repeat here and Tony, bless him, simply replied, "But it's Bob."

Tomorrow morning Bob and I will be up at 5:00 so that we can leave at 6:00 (hopefully with him well-sedated). Our appointment at Michigan State is for 9:00. What happens next? I don't know. If it's not surgical then I guess we'll consider chemo or kitty hospice. If it is surgical, then we'll give it a chance. I guess worst case we lose him on the table of a specialist where everything can be done. Best case we get our happy Bob for a little while longer.

All I Wanted ...

So I decided that with the new year I would act as a responsible adult and go to the dentist. I have no problem with dentists, no phobias or panic attacks in the chair. I love the feeling of nice clean teeth. I just never took the time to get set up with one. I made an appointment for an exam and went in promptly on time. While I did not enjoy the radiograph process (the inside of my mandible was tender from the film for a few days), I was happy with the results and ready to schedule my cleaning and the couple of fillings I need because I'm an erratic flosser. However, in filling out the paperwork I remembered that my physician had heard a heart murmur years ago (I can't hear it myself), so I checked heart murmur on the medical history form. Dentists are thorough and responsible people, so he wanted to contact my physician about antibiotics before the cleaning. No problem. I love my physician. She's incredibly thorough and she takes my weird self-diagnostics concerns into consideration without patronizing me (it helps that I really enjoy seeing what my blood tests look line - as long as I've got insurance I'm game for diagnostics). I spent about 2 weeks playing phone tag with her office, though. Turns out she wanted me to have an echocardiogram. OK, no big, I'd talk to her about it at my general female well-being appointment on Monday.

Well, Monday comes and other female matters eliminate the possibility of the general female wll-being appointment. I called the office to reschedule and mentioned that I'm supposed to set up an echo and can someone call me back. Monday night I have a message saying the echo is scheduled for today (Friday) at 12:45. I work at 1:00. Not going to happen. I was able to reschedule the echo for this morning and have now gotten to see my heart from many different views as well as a bonus peek at my liver and sludgy gallbladder (the sludgy is my interpretation, not the technician's as she cannot even interpret the heart stuff and has not been trained on abdominal ultrasonography). I'll have the results on Monday. Then, at long last, I might be able to get my teeth cleaned.

Count down of about 32 hours to the PJ Party by the way!

Beyond PJs

Plans are rolling right along for the Pajama Party, but other things are happening, too.

Tony went to a practice session for Comic Jam last weekend. Comic Jam is similar to 24-Hour Comic Day except instead of one person writing, drawing and inking a 24 page book (1 page per hour) a team works on a book. I think that it's still a 24 hour process, but I'm not certain about the length of the book. He had a great time and it sounds like his team is set for the real thing. The real Jam is scheduled (appropriately enough) on April 1st.

My parents are visiting my brother in Ecuador right now. I have heard anything since they left, so I'm assuming they got there intact. All three should be in the Galapagos Islands right now. I'm looking forward to seeing the pictures and hearing the stories when they get back.

My friend Michelle is moving to Alabama on Monday. I don't get to see Michelle very often, but she's just an amazingly fun person with a huge heart. I didn't realise how sad I am about her leaving until after her goodbye party last night. The world is a better place because she's in it and I'm really lucky that I got to work with her after I finished school. Happily, she and her husband, Jerry, have to return their rental trailer to South Bend, so they might be crashing the PJ Party!

Right, PJ Party ... It looks like we could have as many as 30 people this year. We're really going to have to finish the basement or get a bigger house. Tony's busily making more floor pillows and planning on moving furniture around. I'm happy because now that winter is back I can try making ice lanterns. Also, the pajama party isn't quite as meaningful when it's 50 degrees outside. Countdown of 8 days left!

Chez PJ - Party Menu forecast

With head-colds breezing through the home, work towards party prep is off to a slow start.
But we have figured out the vittles.

The list includes some old faves, some news one, and one of probably many dishes coming with one of our guests:

"Gutless" Rumaki (Rumaki minus the liver)
Mushroom-Stuffed Mushrooms
Bacon wrapped, Parmesean Stuffed Dates
Sweet Satan's Seed (sweet/spicey nut mix)
Igor Bars (geek-treat supreme. sweet-tooth indulgence heaven)
Jalepeno ice cream frosted chocolate cupcakes (yes, you read that right)
Pink Squirrel (ice cream + liquors + frilly name = one sweet buzz)
More alcohol than can safely be consumed
Misc. chips, dips, veggi-trays and the like.
AND...
Cast your vote now! Which would be the better use of our crockpot:
A) Hot Buttered Rum
or
B) Spiced Plum Soup (also suitable for drinking)

If you don't add a comment wiht your opinion, we just might not let you have any.

Music reviews

You really need to check out this groups reviews sections. Really. Now.
They may not all be winners, but I don't think there's a loser in the bunch.

Pajama Party 2006!

Yup, we're less than a month away from this year's bash. Stay tuned for updates.

Watching my language

Probably the final installment of the" male half of the blog" mini-series:

I have lately at work taken on some copy-writing. Despite my lackluster presence on this blog, I like writing, and feel that, when I'm not just rambling on the keyboard (like, say, now) I can be a fairly effective writer. If not polished or experienced. Anyway, our writer was backed up, I had nothing to do, and one of the account reps said he had a radio spot that needed writing. The boss man said go for it. And I don't think I did a half bad job. Nor did the account rep, nor Mr. Boss-man. Unfortunately, The client is not so easily impressed. So I had to write a second, not-nearly-as-good-but-pleased-the-client script. Apparently reminded of my knack for creative writing, I shortly thereafter wrote a second radio spot, a couple ads and punched up some headlines. It's nice to be able to grow ones experience in different directions.

More recently, I bought myself a lecture series on tape about language. It's history and structure and the like. Interesting stuff. Very engaging lecturer. Keeps me intellectually entertained on my drive to and from work. For those interested in learning about a variety of fascinating subjects on their way to and from work, check out www.teach12.com. The language tape series that has me currently enthralled is "The Story of Human Language".

Stone-walling

Next in our mini-series of mundananity from the life of Tony...

Over a year ago, I bought some very attractive stone tiles for Amy's bathroom. (Amy's bathroom because she gets creative control over decorating it. Likewise, we have Tony's kitchen, which I expect to be thoroughly updating soon). These stone tiles, made of dozens of roughly 1 inch round stones mosaiced onto mesh tile, were promptly "installed" in the storage area of the basement (which is a bit of a redundancy, as that is what the entirety of the basement is). For almost a year, they waited for me to find (a) the time, (b) the knowledge and (c) the motivation to put them up above the shower in the bathroom. Sometime around about Christmas, I found all three.

Well, at least two of the three. Knowledge would come with experience.

It was knowledge that had kept me from the task for a year. I'd find a good, sturdy book on tiling. Filled with helpful illustrations and blue boxes with important notes and clarifications off to the sides. And without fail, it would omit explanation of how to do a step, make assumptions that one knows things that one resorting to this type of book wouldn't know, or offer instruction that went contrary to the previous books instruction.

Finally, I sat down with 4 different references, cross-examined and compared the information, and was confident I had constructed a workable plan for my project. So off to Lowe's I went for supplies. I've found Lowe's to generally be filled with people who are neither helpful nor knowledgeable, and have had many frustrated experiences there. This was not one of them. I found a salesperson who, before I knew it, had corrected half of my misguided 'plan', picked out my supplies, and given me a clear, straightforward to-do instruction list. Which worked very well.

Until the end.

For those who don't know, once you've got the tiles stuck to the wall, you have to mix the grout and smear it over the surface, getting it all between the cracks. The grout sets quickly (20 minutes, I was told) so once you start, there isn't time to waste. So, I mixed double the amount of grout I expected to need, just to be safe, checked that I had everything I might need on hand, stepped up onto the ledge of the tub, and set to work. Scooped a good pile of grout on my trowel, lifted it over my head to the wall above, and watched as gravity took hold of the grout and plopped it toward the tub's floor.

And it sets quickly remember. So I couldn't just say 'bah, I'll clean it up later'. I might risk having a permanent concrete-like lump in the middle of our bathtub. So I set to cleaning it up. Returned to, more carefully) spread the grout on the wall, occasionally dropping bits and slightly larger bits along the way. And, having lost so much grout to gravities seductive call, I got halfway done and had run out of mixed grout. Now panic was setting in. I'm mixing, I'm cleaning, I'm trying in vain to smear this cake batter-mixture from hell on the wall above me rather than below me, and cursing like a pirate with turret's all the while.

Amy choose this moment to treat herself to some coffee. Someplace far away from home. Smart girl.

In the end it looks very nice, with some incidental grout splatter on the joining walls and ceiling. I may get around to sanding them off before next year.

Lights! Camera! Inaction!

Incredibly slow day at work means you get several postings from the silent partner today.
Since I've not been bloggerly of late, I'll take this time to catch up on recent events in my life with a mini-series of recent amazingly mundane adventures. First up:

Lights! Camera! Inaction!
Back in November I auditioned for an independent film. Just on a whim. Saw a poster making an open casting call and noted they needed a couple "male 20-30" types. Acting isn't something I've ever really put myself into - but I've enjoy what little experiences I've had (acting class, high school plays and the like). And, as there was a casting call poster in the Mishawaka Border's, and the auditions were taking place in on of the meeting rooms at the local library, the intimidation factor was pretty low.
Surprisingly, though it's a no-budget film, it has a decent script and seems to be pretty professionally thought out and structured so that it actually CAN be filmed on weekends and evening - around people's real life schedules. I did not get the part they had me read for (20-something Yale grad) - but I did make enough of an impression to get a call back for a second audition, and heaps of praise, with a lot of "I'm really not just being nice. I really mean it" thrown in. Right off the bat the mentioned that my lack of experience was actually refreshing, because they'd auditioned a lot of people with stage acting experience, and acting on stage and on camera are two very different things. It surprised me that anyone with actual acting experience wouldn't be aware of that and adjust for it. Seems obvious to me. Anywho, didn't get a speaking part, but depending on need and scheduling, they may call me in as an extra. We'll see. Regardless, it was a fun leap to take.

Cheesiest Update Ever

OK, I know the male half of this blog (me) hasn't posted in ages. And I'm truely sorry. Hopefully this illustration Amy mentioned a couple entries ago (in a comment under the entry "New Year") will at least start to make amends for my absence.

Lives Within Lives

Yesterday I was showing some friends pictures of the spleen that I removed last week. Jason commented that I have this whole other life from the one that they know me in. It's true, but as I thought more about it I realized that everyone does. It's not that we're all paranoid and super secretive, though I will admit that there are parts of myself I protect from everyone but a very few. I think that it's simply that we need to be so many types of ourself to navigate the world. I have my lab-time life and my work life and my life at home with Tony and our friends and family. I like taking of my doctor face at the end of the day. Whether I like putting it on is another issue entirely. Anyhow, Tony has home life and art director life. I know that my friends also have their own lives that don't necessarily intersect with mine and it's easy to forget in our interactions that they go off and do these amazing and interesting things. I feel really lucky when I can hear the stories later. Even if the stories don't involve spleens.

Parents Are Amazing

Truly!

About a week ago Tony's family visited us. Tony's family is wonderful and this visit included his brother, Seth, our sister-in-law, Amanda and our niece, Morgynn. we really don't get to see them often and we were especially excited to see Morgynn as there aren't many children in our life right now. We forgot, in our anticipation, all that an almost-three-year-old entails. Morgynn did really well with the house and the cats. Only one thing got broken. I got to see Bob do a classic turn and run (yes, nonanimated cats can pull off this move). And, we were exhausted the next day.

So, I am in complete awe of those of you who are parents (particularly of toddlers). Kudos to you for having the energy to keep up with them day after day after day. You have the toughest job on the planet! And thanks Mom and Dad!

New Year

We spent a really nice New Year's Eve with Megan, Guy and their dogs. Fargo and Dakota are very good houseguests and Bob, our kitty, was too under the weather to cause trouble. I made my first venture into stuffed poultry (rock cornish game hens) and will soon be learning the best ways to handle poultry and stuffing. Thanks Guy and Alton Brown! I think the best thing that I cooked that evening was Winter Plum Soup from Cooking Light. It tasted great and made the house smell good, too! We played a very spirited game of Candamir that night and enjoyed Settlers of the Stone Age on New Year's Day. I prefer Candamir with four players, but it's nice to have a two-player Cataan game out there.

I've decided that every year needs a theme. I think that 2006 may be the Year of the Pirate at our house.
However, it may end up being the Year of Cheese. Any opinions on this? (Megan and Guy, I think 2005 may have been the Year of the Pirate for you).

Tomorrow is the final day of Christmas for us. Hmm, that adds up to 15 days of Christmas. I think we need to add on 13 chocolate covered coffee beans, 14 kooky paper clips and 15 caramels to complete the song. Happy New Year!