MEK Tuesdays

Sorry I missed a couple. Between the holidays and recovery and having a freaking COLD at Christmas it's been a very strange few weeks.

Kitty, I know EXACTLY how you feel.

Happy Holidays

I got you a Round Thing.

Still need batteries though.

MEK Tuesdays

This moment of cuddle time photographed by Fahnz. Ahh, cuteness...

Smack

That's me running into the wall. Being home is driving me completely bonkers. I'm cleared to drive so I can go short distances, like to the grocery store and such, but I won't know if I'm okay to go back to teaching until they do an ultrasound on my IVC. It's scheduled at Kick-Ass Vascular Surgeon's office on the 30th of December--at 8:15 in the morning.

I will not be able to partake in any of the tasty coffee that usually starts my day. That's fine, I can juice up on the way home. Still, it seems like a dream that I don't have to do anything clot- or surgery-related until AFTER Christmas.

The worst part is not getting to see my students. The Nutcracker was so beautiful and I am proud beyond words of not just them, but ALL the kids who were in it! Alas, I won't be able to return until KAVS says so. So I'm at home, running out of things to do to keep myself entertained and driving Fahnz crazy because I insist on doing chores. I just feel like nothing would get done if I didn't do it, and it keeps me moving which is a very important part of the healing process.

I'd finish Final Fantasy 13, but that involves a lot of sitting still. Ditto for Bayonetta.

Yesterday I was so desperate for entertainment I cleaned the take-up roller on the vacuum cleaner.

Am rereading Neuromancer. Since watching Splice, I realized that Vincenzo Natali is the best possible director for the Sprawl Trilogy and I hope it gets done. Gotta love it when the right movie and the right director find each other--just like my excitement when Pascal Laugier--if you haven't seen Martyrs and you're old enough to handle it or have a properly iron stomach, DO SO NOW--was shortlisted for Hellraiser. Imagine the sad in the Fahn household when he stepped off the project.

Round Thing has an idea.











Yes, sleepy time is good.

Tattoo me?

Sure, what the hell. If I end up off Coumadin for life I'm getting the Kanji for May 3 tattooed somewhere, probably on my left leg.

It's really quite beautiful...

Finished!

Fussy Thing has to make sure all of the presents are in order. We were determined to get everything done by the second week of December.

Okay

I am off the Coumadin. In about three weeks I get retested for the presence of Fibrin, which is a protein that causes clots, and if I test negative I am off this stuff permanently. No clotting factors so it's not genetic which means there's not much chance of it happening again, according to Magical Hematologist.

So the past few days have been an adjustment period. Apparently the side effects can last for up to five days after your last dose, but I already feel like things in my body are changing a little. I am sleepy. That's the biggest difference right now--while I was on the meds I had insane insomnia, so getting really tired around 6:00 pm is kind of new for me.

My belly is shrinking. Anyone who says Coumadin doesn't cause weight gain is out of it. You get bloated and it goes straight to your tum and it doesn't matter how little you eat, it does not budge. Sadly it's freezing outside so I can't go for walks, but I get plenty of exercise cleaning and going up and down the stairs to the laundry room. Plus I'm not eating much because I'm happier than I was--I can't wait to get back to work!

More later. I've got kitties to play with.

MEK Tuesdays

We didn't put her here.
She did this on her own.

Yeah, not really

Just haven't had it in me to post much. I get so tired and draggy on Coumadin--hopefully I can get off this stuff soon, it sucks having to ask my husband to tie my shoes because I'm too stiff and sore to bend over.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what's going to happen at my appointment today. All I know is that the last seven months have changed the way I think about life, especially the part that involves gratitude. Never take your world for granted, never base your behaviors around what you THINK someone expects of you. Don't be afraid to admit that you need help. Trying to do it all and be everything to everyone will wear you out and leave you with nothing for yourself.

Always remember that even if it's only one person, you are special to someone.

MEK Tuesdays

Extreme close-up.
I love the little black stripe on her nose.

MEK Tuesdays

Our new game system. It's very exclusive and can only be recharged by cuddles.

Half a football

So we had a little discussion about whether or not to take pictures of my incision. Luckily we're both in agreement that it would be rather cool to have a few shots so hopefully we can do that soon. Fahnz got some beautiful pictures of my hands when I was hooked up to everything in the hospital and I think that's what put me over on the incision shots.

I don't think I'm going to do any scar treatments on this thing. I earned this. Plus I'm fair-skinned so it might not turn out to look like anything. Still, it's seven inches long and it's right down the side of my belly and therefore I look like half of a football. My biggest achievement since I got out of the hospital was sleeping on my left side.

Not much to report. Our Nutcracker is this weekend and I am going. I plan on looking fabulous because this will be the first time everyone has seen me since the 7th, and I am so excited to see what my family and the studio and our cast have created!

The cats are running around the house. We have a new Christmas tree. The filter is gone.

Life is wonderful right now.

MEK Tuesdays

Pay attention to me or I will pee on your shoe.

Ugh Part Deux

I have a seven-inch incision on the right side of my stomach that aches if I turn the wrong way and a tummy that can't handle about half of what I eat. I can't sleep at night because I can't curl up on my side. I have to have the Lovenox injections again to make sure I don't randomly clot while I am healing. Almost, but not quite, business as usual. And guess what?

I have never been this blissful. It's not the pain medication either. It's the realization that with this surgery, everything is about to come to an end. According to the most recent ultrasound there is no clot. There may never be one again if I test negative for clotting factors.
I have no intention of doing the Mederma thing with my scar to make it lighter or whatever because I have earned it. This is the result of me having my life turned upside down for the last six months and I will wear it proudly.

For the first time since May Third, I am completely happy. It feels good.

MEK Tuesdays

No, you don't fit in my purse. You have to stay home.

I think Round Thing has an idea of what's about to happen. For a week leading up to the day that I collapsed she was sleeping on my left leg. That's where the clot was. This past week she's been sitting on my tummy--which is where the filter is.
MEK just does whatever. She's not as dependent on me as Round Thing is but the two of them are inseparable. I'm gonna miss my babies!

To sum up

I'm getting operated on, yay. This and tomorrow's MEK Tuesday will have to tide you over for a while.

Ehnk, whatever. Tonight's my last dose of Coumadin for a while, hopefully forever. I have never wanted a negative test result more in my life. It's called a d-dimer and according to Awesome Hematologist, it'll determine whether or not there are any more clots in here. I know the one in my leg is almost completely resolved, not sure about my lungs though.

I just want this done, to be off the meds and able to sleep and have salad and remember words and not feel like someone forgot to oil my joints. Six months of this would defeat even the strongest of men--and I've always considered myself pretty strong.

So until I get out, remember I love you.

Got lots of last-minute work to do...

Stuff that makes me happy

I love Corgis.

The original video is hilarious.

Someone added a Chieftains song and turned it into the funniest thing ever.

MEK Tuesdays

(insert your own caption here)

Two weeks

until I go into the hospital to get this thing removed.

I can't decide if I am relieved or terrified. Maybe a little of both.

Got some advice from a student who had abdominal surgery last year:
"You'll probably throw up a lot." Thanks, B. Love you.

Good news, everyone!

So at my mother's urging I go see her internist.

At the internist's recommendation I go see a vascular surgeon.

At the vascular surgeon's request I get a leg ultrasound (almost clear!) and a CT scan.

CT scan comes back with a clear picture of my lungs (no word yet) and the IVC filter that is tilted and pressing through the wall of my Vena Cava.

At the vascular surgeon's educated recommendation I will be losing my cyborg part. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

I laugh because it's the best news I've gotten in the last six months. I cry because it's surgery and it's scary.

I do both because it's almost over.

MEK Tuesdays

Dammit, I thought they wouldn't find me here.

Testing, testing

The ongoing mission to get me healthy again has taken a step forward. I am getting a CT scan on Friday at one of the top hospitals in the area, to see where the IVC filter is seated in my vena cava and hopefully to see what's going on in my lungs.

I am not looking forward to this.

I mean, yes it's nice getting checked and moving out of maintenance mode (as Fahnz so wisely called it when we first met with Vascular Surgeon) and finding out that I might get stepped down on my dosage once the 6-month treatment cycle is over made me cry with joy. But have you ever had a CT scan? It's nuts.

They inject you with some bizarro dye that makes your veins or whatever needs to be scanned show up--and it makes you feel very heavy and like you really, really have to use it. Then you have to lie very still while a big round thing--not to be confused with Round Thing--spins slowly around you, taking pictures of your insides. After it's over you drink a lot of fluids to get all this stuff out of your body. Fun, right?

This is how we found out that I had too many clots to count. I am hoping and praying that this time around the report is that the clots all scattered to the winds. It's been very hard, going through all of this without any real answers or anything that resembles hope, so to have all of this now makes me feel like I am more than my INR. I may not have seen the light at the end of the tunnel when I went down, but I can sure as hell see it now.

MEK Tuesdays

She loves Fahnz almost as much as I do.

In other news, it's almost 6 months. Time to find out what the next step is in my treatment.

How we entertain ourselves

The really impressive thing?


She doesn't care.

Yeah

I've been gone for a bit. Here's a kitty to make up for the neglect.








Shit's been crazy what with Nutcracker rehearsals and teaching and stuff. But on a good note my clot's almost gone. I feel hopeful for the first time in a long time.

MEK Tuesdays

Imma go slay a dragon nao.

BSG and NDE

So my sister did a piece to "Violence And Variations" from the season 3 episode "Unfinished Business" and my interest, it was piqued. Borrowed season 1 from my BIL, which resulted in Fahnz stacking our Netflix queue head to toe with the entire series plus the specials.

And it's changed my life.

I won't lie, it's damned hard sometimes coming to terms with the fact that I almost died. It's funny how so many people see a white light and angels and family members who went before them--because all I got was an admonishment from my dead father and the bizarre feeling that I'd been thumped in the head instead of falling ever-so-gracefully and feather-light back into my crumpled body. I think I may have drooled a little while I was unconscious.

Yep, it's all so frakking mystical, isn't it? I guess I'm deprived, no one beckoned to me or called my name, and I didn't see Jesus or God or Beelzebub. No rainbows or unicorns, and I didn't return with a sense of purpose or psychic powers, although Dad has appeared to me in dreams quite a few times. He gives delightfully cryptic advice and then poofs away.

So anyway, we've been watching Battlestar Galactica for the past few months, and it's really making me re-examine what happened to me and what I have taken from the experience. Watching a Three commit suicide to see the faces of their makers got to me in a way I did not expect at all. Watching Lee and Starbuck in a boxing ring, fighting their memories and their imperfections and the ways in which they hurt each other, took me to pieces.

Where do you go when you've realized there is only one thing left that keeps you free? For me, it is Fahnz and his love for me that keeps me free from worry and pain and fear. I haven't been able to explain to him what happens when I go into those dark places, but I know it scares him because there isn't a damn thing he can do about it. All he can do is watch me fight against the darkness, and help me find my answers.

What is life and death? What do we see when we cross over?

Part of the downloading process for the Cylons is that they retain every memory--physical, emotional, spiritual--that they experienced in a specific body. Time and resurrection has the effect of accumulated knowledge, and it is the basic nature of every model to interpret that knowledge as best their programming allows. This in a nutshell is human spirituality. All we encounter in the world, in life and death, is filtered through our individual religious/philosophical perceptions. I think this is why I struggle so--I have yet to find the filter that can help me heal.

It's easier to say it than it is to understand it, and yet I have come to accept it. I do not deny what happened to me anymore. I've stopped running from it. Since then, every day I have discovered more reasons why I need to stay, and the stories of the Cylons have taught me more lessons than I ever expected to learn from a television show. I do not long for the Cylon life of self-loathing, for how can you not hate yourself for destroying a world?
Instead, I envy them their surety, their knowledge of what lies beyond. There are moments that I wonder if Three doesn't have a point, this constant need to die and see and return. I just don't want to die again to reach the place of complete understanding.

MEK Tuesdays

Mail is the next best thing to a pillow.
No idea why.

Days to celebrate

Twenty weeks!

I think I want a tattoo. I think I want the Kan-ji for "May Third" on my left ankle.
That's the date it happened, and the leg I have the clot in--seems appropriate. Either that or I get it on my left arm, close to my heart that almost stopped and then restarted and kept going. Somehow, by the grace of God and the emergency room doctors, my heart was undamaged.

My wedding anniversary is coming up. I'm so happy I'm here for it, I'm not asking for a damned thing except his time.

Nutcracker auditions, Mum and Sister and StepS all have October birthdays... so much to look forward to!

Sometimes

the world seems too bright, too loud, too cold.

I feel like I should apologize for surviving.

there are moments that I forget who I am, what I'm doing, simple words for simple things.

I cry for no reason.

the days drag on and I just want to stop for a while.

I worry that I am on the edge of losing everything.

And then Fahnz tells me he loves me, or a kitty climbs up on the couch and sits on my lap, and it all makes sense again.

But sometimes, I am reminded that I walked through the Valley and came out the other side.

I pray for the people like me, who made it, and for the people who did not, who are remembered and loved.

I've taken to wearing a burgundy ribbon in my hair. It is the color of my new life, my new awareness. And it fits me now, at 37, to finally indulge in feminine things, to paint my nails and color my hair and to be beautiful, to wear my eyelashes like the badge they are, to dress in bright colors, to slouch about the house in a mud mask and to sleep with my hair in a braid so it doesn't tangle.

I like the new me. I just wish sometimes I hadn't had to die to meet her.

And sometimes I sit quietly with the awareness that I wouldn't have met her without dying.

Sometimes.

I'm back!

For the past week I have been without laptop access. My charger crapped out completely. Therefore I have missed MEK Tuesdays and will be posting a giant rant about my experiences with Battlestar Galactica about three weeks later than I thought I would. We're still tearing through the series, and a friend has been teasing me with details. Right now I picture her giggling at me as I flip out occasionally on Facebook when something really nutso happens, or when I'm pondering the awesome that is Laura Roslin, or when I'm making a poor attempt at Adama-ing someone into doing something that is equally as stupid as what they're trying to do, but not as dangerous. And I love her for it.

So today, a replacement charger arrived in the mail. This bad boy cost $12 with shipping and I have never been so happy to see a small, taped-up box. I feel like I regrew a missing limb.

This picture of Round Thing getting snuggled has nothing to do with the agony of not having laptop access for the last week, by the way. Just honoring a special request.

MEK Tuesdays

Two of the loves of my life.

The experiment begins

I've decided to leave the first CD at my favorite gas station. There's a really sweet guy there who talks video games and movies with me every time I go in. I kind of want to adopt him as a little brother sometimes, he's so awesome. I'm sure that if he's there and I explain to him what I'm up to, he'd totally help me out. Some people just get it.

Will report back soon...

Giving back, paying forward

Today I found a $20 bill on the Target parking lot. So as a way of thanking whatever put that money in my path, I donated $20 to Stop The Clot.

And it got me thinking, as did leaving a note for the lovely girl who waited on me and Fahnz for my birfday dinner, as did a website a friend posted for me regarding random acts of kindness. . .why do we not do these things more often?

So I have decided that once a week, I will leave a CD of beautiful music and a kind note at random places around my home and work. I'd love to see what happens, how many people I can reach.

And I'd like to donate to Stop The Clot more often.

MEK Tuesdays

So tell me how that made you feel.

No, I'm interested. Really.

Pretty Things

Some costumes from our Nutcracker. We have the most amazing team behind this . . . a studio mom and dad and a friend of hers, my mum, my sister, my stepdad, Fahnz, and me. This is not going to look like anything anyone has seen before and we are very proud of that!

MEK Tuesdays

It was a very strange day.

This amuses me

Is it just me, or does Discovery Channel have the most over-the-top, dramatic commercials ever?

Accountability

Last night I made two lists.
One for me and one for Fahnz.

On these lists are some very important numbers--the amount of calories we need to consume per day to start losing weight again, to the tune of two pounds per week. At every meal we write down the calorie count and since the lists are right there on the refrigerator, we can compare and encourage each other.

I want to get into even better shape now that I finally care about what happens to me. People don't realize what a huge difference that can make in your life.

Wish us luck!

Ugh

Bad day today.

Being surrounded by about thirty people in a very small house (most of them kids with lots of energy) plus very high humidity plus a few other nifty side effects that I REALLY shouldn't go into detail about on a public blog because it would just squick people out equals a very tired and unhappy Fahnette who can't breathe properly and has a very sore throat now because of it.

Thank goodness for Fahnz. He's all about me being comfortable and wants all of this to be over as much as I do, if not more because he's sick of seeing me like this. It's not all the time, of course, but it's often enough that it hurts him too.

That's the odd thing about being in recovery from a PE. I don't feel bad constantly. In fact most of the time I feel quite normal--my blood tests have been coming back looking very good and I've been cleared to get a massage, which makes me tremendously happy! But I do have bad days. This one was particularly off because I had to keep dodging small people and telling them to please, please be careful near me and try to not bump into me. I almost got knocked off of a giant ottoman and that was when I was done.

I guess the only thing I can take away from this is that not everyone will understand because I don't look like there's anything wrong. Even my hairstylist said he wouldn't have been able to tell there was a change in my hair if I hadn't told him. So please, if someone you love has blood clots, do your homework, educate yourself, understand that they're not going to be 100% all the time, and respect their healing process.

They'd do the same for you.

As for the Fahnz, I told him tonight that sometimes being a girl is not all it's cracked up to be, but being HIS girl is the best thing ever.
I couldn't get through this without him.

Stuff I'd like to do

A ballet based on Tale of Tales' other game, The Path.

Go to Scotland.

One week at home, just me and Fahnz. (check that one off the list)

Beat Bayonetta and Final Fantasy XIII.

Sleep until noon.

Raise money for Stop The Clot.

Have a beer and a BBQ Chicken salad at Growlers.

Write something really cool.

Pay off my medical bills.

Momo's chocolate pie recipe.

Live a happy and peaceful life.

MEK Tuesdays

This stealing of Fahnz's spot on the couch happens on a near-hourly basis. It usually ends in cuddles and pets, maybe treats.
Round Thing sleeps in strange positions, even for a cat. One day I found her laying on her back with all four paws up like a bug.

Again, this time with feeling

Finally feels like my life is getting back to normal. We start classes in two weeks, my birthday is next week, and I no longer go to bed wondering if this might not be the moment . . .

Fahnz is happy, has a new job. He was really not his best over the past few months, what with my PE and where he was working, and it showed because he seemed so very numb. It's just too much for some people to take when you realize you're treading water, and when you get done trying to maintain that calm, cool exterior, sometimes you just gotta blow it all off and take some time for yourself. This week off is exactly what he needed. He's got a new game to play, new office space to set up, walks to go on with me. Kitties to cuddle, life to live. I feel like we're finding our friendship all over again and it's really quite fun!

I can't wait to start teaching again. I can't wait to take some classes. Been walking a lot, trying to burn off some Coumadin bloat and the weight I put on when I was depressed and on the pill. First order of business for all my classes--even my little girls--STRETCH. I am so bloody-damned stiff it hurts to wiggle my toes sometimes. I want the next two weeks to fly!
When I came back to the studio after my PE, I was still in that weird post-brush-with-death fog and didn't really feel like I belonged there--I think I went back too soon but I didn't feel like I had much choice. My other option was to stay home and feel like I was losing out on everything. Not a fun place to be, but after it was all over our recital was beautiful, more so to me because I almost missed it. So now I'm getting the rest I should have gotten before, and am doing my best to stay busy.

Next week I start helping with Nutcracker costumes over at Mum's house. Don't know what she'll have me do but even if I end up doing the laundry I intend to make sure it runs smoothly for her and for my sister. I believe I shall take my laptop and camera, get some shots of the process to document on our website. Mum's done some amazing work and I can't wait for her to share it with the world. More to come . . .

Angel Voices

I got to see Libera Thursday!

They're a fantastic boychoir from England. We've used their music before, are inspired now to use it again. It really does sound like angels singing.

The concert was at the Basilica here in St. Louis. It was blessed by John Paul II, ya'll.

Mad acoustics, beautiful mosaics--you walk in there and you know you're in a sacred space. Someone in front of us had the nerve to try and record the concert on their cell phone. It seemed very disrespectful to me and I must confess, I was rather pleased when an usher shut her down.

If I tried to describe how wonderful this was I'd probably start crying. They enter in white robes (usually bathed in light but it wasn't an option at the Basilica) and as they sing they wander about the stage, patterned for the best sound for the song they are singing at the moment. Lights would bathe them in colour from the ground up, making the boys look like little glowing spirits. Some of them talked (Hello, I'm... BEN!) and you could tell they were so in tune with each other and with the music, it was like a family. At the end of the night a long table was set up outside the Basilica for the boys to sit and greet the crowd. Mum said they looked like they were having the time of their lives!

I'm glad to have had the experience. I'm glad I was here to have it.

Thank you, Libera. We are truly blessed that you are in the world.

MEK Tuesdays

Best hiding spot in the house.
Sorry not posting too much lately, been busy with housework and going for walks and hanging out at my sister's dance camp.

MEK Tuesdays

She does this on her own, ya'll.
It's like she knows that adding on extra cuteness will make damn sure Momma gets the camera out.

Meow what?

WANT!!

I did it!

I just walked a 2/3 mile trail with lots of hills in 90 degree weather.

My lungs are screaming at me, I'm sweating in places I forgot I had, and there is not enough cold water in the world to soothe my burning throat.

But I feel good. I did it.

Now I'm going to join Fussy Thing in collapsing on the floor.

MEK Tuesdays

D'awww.


I get to see this kind of thing every day. And then they start beating the bejeebers out of each other.

Tomorrow is...

Happy Twelve Weeks to meeeee!!

Saturday

Stepson is in Florida, so what do we do?

Rent a Rug Doctor. I think I have reached my doctor-approved level of exercise for the day.

Apply to write about PC gaming from an artist's perspective.

Rediscover K-Mart. Yay for cute pants!

Tweak the studio website.

Play with MEK and Round Thing.

Take a twenty-minute walk down a big hill in ninety-degree heat. Feeling very proud of that.

Think about how lucky I am that I've got Fahnz.

Watch ComicCon coverage for a few hours. Simon Pegg's real voice is fantastic.

Find something for dinner that involves minimal cooking time.

Go to bed early.

It's the simple things in life that make me happy now-a-days, because the idea that I almost missed out on everything still lingers in the back of my mind and I want it to stay away. Seems like gratitude for the small joys keeps it cooped up quite nicely.

Life changes...

and I gotta change along with it.

Thanks to the damage to my lungs, I've had to severely reduce my activity level. The result?

Gaining a bit of weight. So here I go with drinking a lot of water, going for walks around the neighborhood--a little bit farther every time--and cutting my consumption in half. I can't wait for classes to start back up so I can get a proper workout with my students. I want to go for a walk right now but it's in the mid-nineties and my lungs hurt anyway from being out a few hours ago.

My steps forward are getting bigger all the time.

MEK Tuesdays

I love this picture.
Our kitties sit and look out the window all day long. They've got it rough, let me tell you.

Saying Goodbye

So I finally got the courage to watch the"Deadliest Catch" episode in which Captain Phil goes Home.

It was beautiful--Jake finds his strength and goes to rehab, Josh steps up to the Harris legacy in a conversation with his father that made a lot of people cry, and Jonathon Hillstrand shows the world who he truly is. There are instances that bring the truth out of people, and to see one of the frat boys from the Time Bandit become a pillar of support for an old friend's sons kinda blew my mind.
I hope the Russell issue doesn't dog Jon for the rest of his career on the boat--indeed I find myself wondering if he's planning on returning to the TB at all. If he does, he needs to be there for Scott, who seems to be more and more like his uncle every episode (minus the hair plugs. Andy Hillstrand, you do not need to be looking like Donald Trump!) This show has become less about the job and more about the men on the boats. They are no longer strangers on an icy sea.

But I didn't shed a tear. Maybe because I know how it feels to be on the edge of life and death, and how simple it would have been to slip over that line and into eternity. It was a strange kinship, knowing that the same thing that almost took me was the thing that claimed the Captain, and I was expecting to be shattered by this episode. What I felt instead was so much pride in and love for the Harris brothers, because when it comes to it you have to be strong enough to let go.
I think Phil knew all along that he was ready to go, he just wanted to go back to the sea in his heart and having the boys there would have distracted him from his crossing. God bless you, Captain Harris. You will always be on the sea, and your memories will be part of the sky.

I'll let Freddie, my new hero and sage, take us out...

Rest?

Recital is finally over and I can get back to healing. It's been hard--out of the eleven weeks since I had the embolism I was in the hospital for one and rested at home for one. Nine weeks of teaching, doing recital work, all sorts of things to take my mind off what happened.

Now it's done and I am home with my thoughts and my aches. I want to go for a walk today but it's too hot right now. I want to watch "Homicide" again (one of my friends did a brilliant write-up of "Three Men and Adena" which can be found here) and finish a few video games. I want to go through my closet, get rid of some things.

Most of all I want to feel like it's okay to finally rest. I'm tired.

MEK Tuesdays

This is the face I get when I disturb her from a lounge-a-thon.

Later she tried to bite me. NOT GOOD. One little claw-slap and I had a bruise for a week.

She's all "Gerroff me!"

Five more days

and then the recital will be over. Hopefully then we can get some rest.

I find this inspirational:

Brucie the cat and Meggie-pup, lounging in harmony. I want to be anywhere close to that peaceful. Won't happen anytime soon but at least Fahnz is understanding about the situation. Normally I would go on about how great he is but I think anyone who knows us is already aware of that.



All of my mother's pets match not just her house, but each other.
I am not kidding. Two tuxedo cats, one black-and-white pupper, one black-and-brown pupper, and one gorgeous collie.

I guess it's a sign of an artistic mind, that she has matching animals. If they can ever get together and sit still long enough for us to get a picture, it should totally be her next Christmas card.

At the moment my girls are curled up on the couch. They spend a lot of time snuggling:

and sometimes I'll find myself with one kitty on my left arm and one kitty on my right. It's like being smothered in love.

Pearl was needy today. She carries stuff around and talks very loudly when she gets like this. I think she's looking for me and wants to bring me presents. When I came home from the hospital she would not leave me alone, and even after nine weeks since I've been out she sits at the window waiting for me to come home from the studio or come in from my walk or from getting the mail. If I'm inside she follows me around and squeaks. Yes, that big kitty squeaks like a baby bird... but when she's curled up in my lap and purring, it's like she's a tiny kitten all over again.

In fifteen hours and seventeen minutes, it will have been ten weeks.

Giving back

I want to do something. I want to teach people about what happened to me. I don't want to see another human being suffer like this.

Insomnia

Don't know if it's related to the meds or to post-embolism stress, but I seem to have developed an inability to get to sleep. Interesting.

Thank the gods for Discovery. I've found interesting shows, odd shows, shows that make me say "Ehnk?" and shows that make me clutch my metaphorical pearls. Right now I'm watching Mike Rowe on a chicken farm. He's such a regular Joe type, I can imagine he'd do the jobs even if there was no show because it's just so damned fun. More fainting goats, plzkthnx.

I love the hell out of Deadliest Catch, kind of want to snuggle it a little, but I just can't get through any of the current episodes. Knowing that someone as amazing as Captain Phil died is one thing . . . knowing I had the same thing happen to me, the same thing that eventually took his life . . . it's kind of mindblowing and more than a little intimidating. Freddie's speech ("Can't catch a dad every year") to Josh in the wheelhouse last week was absolutely shattering. Fahnz replayed it for me on the original broadcast, but it wasn't until After The Catch last night, seeing Freddie relive the conversation for Mike and the rest of the Captains, that it really hit me that Phil was gone, and I will admit I cried. I pray for the Harris boys, for Freddie and the rest of the Cornelia Marie crew, just like all of the other fans. Do you think they hear us?

Oh, and Jake Anderson? You are one tough human being. Stay strong.

Discovery has started running American Chopper, and I am tickled to bits about this. It's fascinating to see family businesses, the good and the bad. In the case of the Teutels, you also get the WTF? It wasn't that much of a surprise to hear the family was having trouble--seems like the rivalries and arguments were pushed and played up to an extremely unhealthy level in the later seasons. So why am I tickled about this show?

Because the bikes are pretty damned cool.

Right now Mike Rowe is playing with three-week old chicks. This would make quite a few of my female friends and some of my gay friends explode into little puffs of sparkly smoke. There's something about really manly men playing with cute baby animals that could quite possibly heal the world. Maybe that's what I should do for therapy! Yes, I think I'll go look at pictures of Fahnz holding Round Thing . . .

MEK Tuesdays

Cuteness in stereo.

Round Thing was TINY when I got her. She could fit in the palm of my hand and leave room for a sandwich. Now she is a big girl. Really big. One of my friends likens her to a furry tank, armed with pens and ponytail holders, squishing everything in sight and squeaking all the while.


Her new family nickname is Pearlschweiger. I have no idea where Fahnz came up with that, but he's brilliant and I love it.

MEK Tuesdays

Sometimes we pretend we're a decorative statue.

Argh

Life is crazy right now. We've got the recital in three weeks, I'm working on music and typing the program, there's still one more dance to finish, and it's hot. Damned hot. Not good for people like me whose lungs aren't 100%.

But I shall carry on, taking my short little walks every other morning after my other half leaves for work. I didn't get to sleep until about 4:15 this morning, woke up at 8:00 or so. Time for coffee.

I'm drinking quite a bit of water lately. I have a soda once, maybe twice a week. Basically I've been forced to change my relationships with food thanks to the medicine I'm on, which loses effectiveness if I eat anything green and leafy.

It's been a strange year...

MEK Tuesdays

How the hell do I ever get any work done?

Soooo tired

Truth be told, it's a struggle to get through the day sometimes. I can't stand feeling like this because I've always tried to be so bloody-damned tough.

Once the recital is over I'm gonna sleep for a week.

No, really.

Just because I look okay doesn't mean I'm not healing.
Yeah, my lungs sound clearer. Doesn't mean they're not still damaged.
Sure I get plenty of rest. But I don't always get enough.

This is not easy. It will never be easy.

I came very close to dying six weeks ago. I've accepted that I won't be 100% straightaway.

Yes, I almost died. Yes, I have a small metal cage inside me to make sure it doesn't happen again.

Yes, it affected the entire studio, still does because I can't do as much and we lost three weeks with my inability to go anywhere besides the hospital and surgery centers.
This is my reality. I've accepted it and I am damn proud to have survived.

MEK Tuesdays

Someone referred to my youngest cat as Memory-Erase Kitten after a bad encounter with the "Twilight" film.
Apparently my kitty is so cute (stepdad once spent twenty minutes looking for a "Made In Japan" sticker on her) she makes you forget all the bad stuff in the world. After weeks and lots of requests for pictures of this miraculous furbaby, the nickname stuck.
Here's MEK hiding behind a couch pillow.

Someone please

make a LOLcat out of this.

So what happened?

This.

A little family project

So I told my husband that "Watchmen" was about to be a movie.
He got me the graphic novel for Christmas.
I found a forum about the book and movie, and one day ran across a post about a game called The Path.
Bought it, played it. LOVED it, wanted to know more about this amazing little development team.

They're called Tale of Tales, based in Belgium, and are two of the most insanely artistic people I've ever encountered next to my mum and sister. They've also created a gorgeous game based on the tale of Salome, an interactive vignette/meditation on mortality, and a lovely little game/interactive screensaver/MMO called The Endless Forest. Brilliant.

You're a deer. That's it. No rules, no language, no violence. Just art on a global scale and a collaborative spirit. You communicate by gesture, by calling to other deer who represent people all over the world, by dancing with them, running through the woods with them, sitting with them. Mum falls in love with the beautiful screenshots that players have posted and the relaxing atmosphere of running around in a magical place where you can simply BE.

So what do we do?

Contact the developer and ask permission to turn it into a ballet.

And it's going to happen. We've got the space, we've got the beginnings of an extensive wardrobe, props and ideas for stories, music to select and record, narratives to write. I think everyone involved is here at the right time to make this a reality, and I'm very grateful that Michael and Aureia are in the world.

Round Thing

I think I love you.

This cat is ridiculous.

Hurm.

Sometimes I wake up at two in the morning and ponder a whole bunch of things. Sometimes I ponder one thing over the course of the day. Since my stepson is home sick today I'll have plenty of time to think about the little strangenesses of the world.
Like right now I'm wondering how come I haven't noticed before that Joyce Meyer has Joker mouth. She is seriously working the Romero look. Joyce Meyer is a reformed 'tute-turned-televangelist that just so happens to be based right here in my hometown, so if I disappear after this gets published you all know where to look.

Now, before you quibble, here's Cesar Romero out of makeup.
Not bad, right? Dark, manly, handsome. It's always interesting to look at the earlier stars who made their names as costumed characters because they are handled in so dramatically different a way than today. In this era they're covered in prosthetics and computer-remapped within an inch of their lives. In the fifties "Avatar" would have been filmed on a soundstage decorated to look like the rainforest, and we would have seen a bunch of actors in blue bodysuits with tails on. Frankly that would have entertained me a hell of a lot more, probably because in the fifties people knew how to write!


Poor Cesar, so pretty and yet he became famous for looking like this:

Don't get me wrong. I adore the high camp that is the early "Batman" series and really, who doesn't love Burgess Meredith as the Penguin? Plus Eartha Kitt was so ridiculously hot and so mind-blowingly sexy there are still some men in the world who can be utterly destroyed by thoughts of her and a well-placed growl. Batman had some real beauties in its day.

Where am I going? Oh yes, Joyce Meyer has Joker mouth.



See?


Now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go hide in my basement.

How I got here

On May 3rd, I collapsed. I hadn't felt anything all day, but when the pain hit it was like someone shot me in the sternum. I was cold and pale and sweating, couldn't hear or stand or breathe. One ambulance ride and a few hours later I listened to a doctor as he calmly told me I had too many blood clots to count in my lungs. My husband was there, my mother was on the phone telling I don't know who what had happened to me.

So I stayed. For a week, I was in the hospital being poked and prodded and injected and dosed. My sister came home to cover my classes. My mum spent the week sitting in my room and passed the time by hand-beading a costume. My husband only left me for the last two nights I was there, working from the hospital room. These people were there for me. Me! Me, who never felt like she merited that much attention. It's hard to explain to someone what that week was like now that I've been home for about four weeks, but all I know is that at the time I felt very small. Very. . .not me.

It's strange, reclaiming yourself after something like that. Mum worries, Fahnz encourages, and the rest of the world seems larger somehow. Sometimes it seems as if I'm in a borrowed body, one that has broken and is carefully, slowly, delicately being put back together. I'm back at work in a lessened capacity and it's glorious, because I almost lost it and even though I can't do much I feel like I'm able to give more. Strange to think that my life is now numbers and blood draws and pills, but I feel more alive than ever.