Blergh

It's winter. It's cold. It makes my scar hurt. Do not want.

I love being back at work, though. It makes being back on the Coumadin a little more tolerable--that and knowing this is only a 3-month go. The worst part about last year was not knowing when I'd be off that stuff. Now I know and I hope that this time, it sticks. If I calculate the timeline correctly, that puts me getting completely cleared around the one-year anniversary of my initial collapse. If I end up a lifer, so be it. At least now I know what to expect.

I still feel a bit lost, I guess because I was gone for so long. Thankfully I'm surrounded by people who understand how it feels. Two of my students have been invaluable in helping me talk this through because they've been through major surgery and understand how your brain can bend when it comes to the healing process.
My vascular surgeon's office called last week to let me know that everything was pretty well healed, blood was flowing as it should through the IVC. Am working up to stretching, dancing more--rebuilt my sister's website for her dance company from the ground up (thanks for the lessons, Fahnz) and beat "Scott Pilgrim: The Game" last night. Life feels almost normal.

Stuff I want to do:
A dance to "Far Away" from the Red Dead Redemption OST. That song is flawless.
Drop 20 pounds.
Sleep.

I love being alive.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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...

This amuses me

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

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.

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.

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.

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 . . .

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.

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.