All right, here's the deal. The Livestrong Challenge is this coming Sunday and I desperately need sponsors.
What with recent events and all, I have been rather lax in both training and fundraising. As a result of not training, I won't be able to ride the 70-mile course as I had hoped. (Sorry, Stacey, my butt won't hurt quite as much just for you -- but it will still be sore!)
I can easily change my registration to the 40-mile course, but -- there is a $250.00 minimum fundraising goal that must be met or I will not be permitted to ride at all They are quite serious about their fundraising, these Livestrong people.
I very much want to ride in this, for many reasons, primarily to raise the funds, but also because I love to ride and want to ride with my friend Annette very much. I don't have the funds to just fill in the missing amount as I did last year (well I could fill in SOME, but not the whole thing) ,so I'm counting on alla youse to pony up! Even five bucks will help me make this goal!
And holy crapples, people, it's for a totally good cause. Right now even my dog has cancer. It touches us all.
If you have a minute, and a few bucks, kindly visit this website and put your money in the virtual waistband of my sweaty Lycra shorts. You'll be glad you did!
Monday, June 23, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The Brown Stuff, Oh How It Flies
And verily it doth disperse when it hitteth the fan.
First, the good news. I got my grades, and rather than the B and B+ that I was expecting, I found a B+ and an A! Yay me! ... Not that I really deserve either one, but I'll take 'em.
In other news. I'll be moving soon. To mother's. How humbling is that. But, I need to get through nursing school, and that's the way to do it. I anticipate a long year and a half of fossil-fuel consumption, as mother does live a tidy hour away from school, but free childcare and help with the rent is not something to be passed up (in favor of extreme poverty and the kindness of strangers, as that would be the only other avenue in view at this time).
That's about all I'm going to say about this for now.
That being said... Many thanks to my mother and to the many friends and family members who are so supportive of me. I will dedicate my RN to all of you.
First, the good news. I got my grades, and rather than the B and B+ that I was expecting, I found a B+ and an A! Yay me! ... Not that I really deserve either one, but I'll take 'em.
In other news. I'll be moving soon. To mother's. How humbling is that. But, I need to get through nursing school, and that's the way to do it. I anticipate a long year and a half of fossil-fuel consumption, as mother does live a tidy hour away from school, but free childcare and help with the rent is not something to be passed up (in favor of extreme poverty and the kindness of strangers, as that would be the only other avenue in view at this time).
That's about all I'm going to say about this for now.
That being said... Many thanks to my mother and to the many friends and family members who are so supportive of me. I will dedicate my RN to all of you.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Drunken blogging
Okay, so this isn't drunken because it's two days after the fact, but do let's describe the revelry that took place post-finals.
Oh first of all the final on Tuesday was painful. For reasons I do not care to go into, I did not study much, and so I was already feeling ill-prepared. As usual I was the first one done and lucky me, the results are displayed on-screen when the exam is completed -- I walked out feeling pretty dismal with a 75 percent. Yes, friends and neighbors, seventy-five percent. This gives me a B in the class, I'm pretty sure.
But within a few minutes I was joined at the snack bar counter, where I lingered waiting to see how others did, and found that I did no worse than the vast majority of my classmates. And better even than a few. While I certainly did not want others to do as poorly as I did, it was nice to know that I was no worse off than most.
Off to meet a friend for a quick cuppa, then onward to my class's chosen gathering place, Overpriced Forcedly-Stereotypedly-Ethnic Chain Restaurant. Let happy hour commence! The next two hours found roughly half my class congregating for margaritas, beer, and cheap nachos. Also much loud conversation and candid photo-taking, and enthusiastic toasting of the fact that we are all one-third nurse. Yay!
From there a select group of us moved on to the Freaky Frawg, where we were disappointed to learn that karaoke takes place only on weekends. Okay, truthfully, I was not disappointed, but after two margaritas and two beers (and a designated driver; my car remained at the OFSECR) I was cheefully willing to go where the party was, once we had consumed a couple more pitchers of beer. Seriously, thank God I was among friends.
Next stop, after yet more friends joined us, was to move on to White Trash Dive Bar where karaoke is featured every night of the week. More pitchers, serving wench, and keep it coming! My housemate is the karaoke expert and immediately signed up for various songs. There are many candid photos of her and my other classmates singing, dancing, and generally carrying-on. Not so much of me as I got up from the table only to use the restroom.
Friends, I started this party at 4:30pm.
I got home at 1:30am.
I was never falling down drunk but I would have been had I not switched to Co-Cola at about midnight.
To my vast and undeserved credit, I did not get up and embarrass myself with a microphone. Also, my clothes stayed on, I slept in my own bed, and I didn't have any new tattoos or piercings when I woke up.
I did get in a certain amount of trouble at home, but was cut considerable slack owing to the fact that it was the end of the term and also because my clothes stayed on, I slept in my own bed, and I didn't have any new tattoos or piercings when I woke up.
Yesterday was spent running around taking care of some Vegas-related errands (signing papers etc and driving same papers to a friend who was stuck at work and then back to the club officers -- nice of them to emphasize how if we couldn't attend the meeting, we should make other arrangements ahead of time), also taking headache remedies and feeling queasy at times.
And that, my friends, is how I began my summer vacation. :)
Oh first of all the final on Tuesday was painful. For reasons I do not care to go into, I did not study much, and so I was already feeling ill-prepared. As usual I was the first one done and lucky me, the results are displayed on-screen when the exam is completed -- I walked out feeling pretty dismal with a 75 percent. Yes, friends and neighbors, seventy-five percent. This gives me a B in the class, I'm pretty sure.
But within a few minutes I was joined at the snack bar counter, where I lingered waiting to see how others did, and found that I did no worse than the vast majority of my classmates. And better even than a few. While I certainly did not want others to do as poorly as I did, it was nice to know that I was no worse off than most.
Off to meet a friend for a quick cuppa, then onward to my class's chosen gathering place, Overpriced Forcedly-Stereotypedly-Ethnic Chain Restaurant. Let happy hour commence! The next two hours found roughly half my class congregating for margaritas, beer, and cheap nachos. Also much loud conversation and candid photo-taking, and enthusiastic toasting of the fact that we are all one-third nurse. Yay!
From there a select group of us moved on to the Freaky Frawg, where we were disappointed to learn that karaoke takes place only on weekends. Okay, truthfully, I was not disappointed, but after two margaritas and two beers (and a designated driver; my car remained at the OFSECR) I was cheefully willing to go where the party was, once we had consumed a couple more pitchers of beer. Seriously, thank God I was among friends.
Next stop, after yet more friends joined us, was to move on to White Trash Dive Bar where karaoke is featured every night of the week. More pitchers, serving wench, and keep it coming! My housemate is the karaoke expert and immediately signed up for various songs. There are many candid photos of her and my other classmates singing, dancing, and generally carrying-on. Not so much of me as I got up from the table only to use the restroom.
Friends, I started this party at 4:30pm.
I got home at 1:30am.
I was never falling down drunk but I would have been had I not switched to Co-Cola at about midnight.
To my vast and undeserved credit, I did not get up and embarrass myself with a microphone. Also, my clothes stayed on, I slept in my own bed, and I didn't have any new tattoos or piercings when I woke up.
I did get in a certain amount of trouble at home, but was cut considerable slack owing to the fact that it was the end of the term and also because my clothes stayed on, I slept in my own bed, and I didn't have any new tattoos or piercings when I woke up.
Yesterday was spent running around taking care of some Vegas-related errands (signing papers etc and driving same papers to a friend who was stuck at work and then back to the club officers -- nice of them to emphasize how if we couldn't attend the meeting, we should make other arrangements ahead of time), also taking headache remedies and feeling queasy at times.
And that, my friends, is how I began my summer vacation. :)
Monday, June 16, 2008
One down
Final no. 1 is over with and I got an 89-point-something.
I will either get a very low A (unlikely) or a B+ (probably) or maybe even a B (let's hope for the B+).
Either way I done reasonably good. :) Yay me!
I will either get a very low A (unlikely) or a B+ (probably) or maybe even a B (let's hope for the B+).
Either way I done reasonably good. :) Yay me!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
A brief, alcohol-related survey (painless and fun!)
Okay my friends, do me a quick favor.
Tomorrow evening I'm attending a post-finals get-together (translation: gathering at bar for express purpose of consuming many, many alcoholic beverages) for the quarter ahead of mine in nursing school. I may be attending this one in lieu of my own because I want to go for a bike ride on Tuesday which is when mine is happening.
The question has been posed to me: should we get a cab, or can I drive?
Okay, so I do have one more final the next day at 2pm. I can't get too stupid because I should really be up at a decent hour to study the next day. Theoretically this means I could control myself a bit and be the designated driver. But.... if we got a cab, then I could get a lil' tipsy.
Decisions, decisions.
Help me out here, peeps. Give me your take on it in the comments.
Tomorrow evening I'm attending a post-finals get-together (translation: gathering at bar for express purpose of consuming many, many alcoholic beverages) for the quarter ahead of mine in nursing school. I may be attending this one in lieu of my own because I want to go for a bike ride on Tuesday which is when mine is happening.
The question has been posed to me: should we get a cab, or can I drive?
Okay, so I do have one more final the next day at 2pm. I can't get too stupid because I should really be up at a decent hour to study the next day. Theoretically this means I could control myself a bit and be the designated driver. But.... if we got a cab, then I could get a lil' tipsy.
Decisions, decisions.
Help me out here, peeps. Give me your take on it in the comments.
Yeah, Happy Father's Day, or something
Actually, a VERY happy Father's Day to my friends and family who are good fathers.
To my own Dad, well, you'd be getting a card if a) I knew where to send it -- you haven't called since moving to the East Coast (remember when you called me up to tell me you were moving? Good times, Dad!), and b) they made cards that said things like:
Happy Father's Day to the guy who weaseled out of most of his court-mandated child support,
declined to help pay for my orthodontia ("She doesn't need braces." Wow! I had no idea you were an orthodontist on the side!),
has usually lived hundreds if not thousands of miles away,
has pictures of his wife's grandkids all over the house but not one photo of my child or my brother's sons,
breezes through town expecting me to drop everything, sometimes on literally a few minutes' notice, to accomodate him for meals or even a place to stay,
has missed my daughter's birthdays (all four of them so far; you are 4 and 0! Keep up the good work!),
shot my grandmother's emotionally traumatized rescued poodle dog to death rather than take it to a vet and get it some tranquilizers when it was distraught because she was gone for a few days,
tried to fob his own horrible evil little dog off on Grandma when he decided to move away and were worried he wouldn't tolerate the trip well (why didn't you just shoot him too?),
drove up from San Diego to visit other relatives but failed to mention it to me, despite the fact that I hadn't seen you in a couple of years (I retaliated in kind a few years later when I flew to Washington DC for a week and never told you, because I didn't feel like blowing one or more nights on having dinner with you and your awful wife),
gave my brother a gun for Christmas but gave me nothing,
and still occasionally has the nerve to complain that nobody calls him.
As soon as they start making that card, Dad, you'll get one from me.
To my own Dad, well, you'd be getting a card if a) I knew where to send it -- you haven't called since moving to the East Coast (remember when you called me up to tell me you were moving? Good times, Dad!), and b) they made cards that said things like:
Happy Father's Day to the guy who weaseled out of most of his court-mandated child support,
declined to help pay for my orthodontia ("She doesn't need braces." Wow! I had no idea you were an orthodontist on the side!),
has usually lived hundreds if not thousands of miles away,
has pictures of his wife's grandkids all over the house but not one photo of my child or my brother's sons,
breezes through town expecting me to drop everything, sometimes on literally a few minutes' notice, to accomodate him for meals or even a place to stay,
has missed my daughter's birthdays (all four of them so far; you are 4 and 0! Keep up the good work!),
shot my grandmother's emotionally traumatized rescued poodle dog to death rather than take it to a vet and get it some tranquilizers when it was distraught because she was gone for a few days,
tried to fob his own horrible evil little dog off on Grandma when he decided to move away and were worried he wouldn't tolerate the trip well (why didn't you just shoot him too?),
drove up from San Diego to visit other relatives but failed to mention it to me, despite the fact that I hadn't seen you in a couple of years (I retaliated in kind a few years later when I flew to Washington DC for a week and never told you, because I didn't feel like blowing one or more nights on having dinner with you and your awful wife),
gave my brother a gun for Christmas but gave me nothing,
and still occasionally has the nerve to complain that nobody calls him.
As soon as they start making that card, Dad, you'll get one from me.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Vegas, baby! Yeah!
So I finally found out today that I'm going to Vegas! For a nursing symposium! As is my housemate and my mentor/adopted step-twin and a bunch of other people.
YAY!
And, Euphemism College is picking up the tab! Well, most of it. All but fifty bucks, plus I think we have to find our own dinners or something. But the college is paying for the airfare, the hotel rooms, the symposium, etc. For 24 of us! Plus two advisors! Now that's a lotta cashbucks.
Anyhoo, I'm stoked about going. I've never been to Vegas. :) I plan to spend a lot of time wandering around like an open-mouthed rube from the puckerbrush, except cleaner and not as vulnerable to pickpockets.
Which reminds me of this one time in Madrid (not at band camp, however) when my Mom and I were walked into La Plaza Mayor and these gypsy women (real authentic gypsies, and they looked the part) got between us and one of them got her hands right into my Mom's purse and onto her wallet. I saw it and hollered and she yanked her hands away, and then those women just melted into the crowd, but not before the one with the hands on Mom's purse locked eyes with me for just a split second and gave me this funny little smile, like, Well done for a tourist moron.
Anyway: Yay! Vegas!
YAY!
And, Euphemism College is picking up the tab! Well, most of it. All but fifty bucks, plus I think we have to find our own dinners or something. But the college is paying for the airfare, the hotel rooms, the symposium, etc. For 24 of us! Plus two advisors! Now that's a lotta cashbucks.
Anyhoo, I'm stoked about going. I've never been to Vegas. :) I plan to spend a lot of time wandering around like an open-mouthed rube from the puckerbrush, except cleaner and not as vulnerable to pickpockets.
Which reminds me of this one time in Madrid (not at band camp, however) when my Mom and I were walked into La Plaza Mayor and these gypsy women (real authentic gypsies, and they looked the part) got between us and one of them got her hands right into my Mom's purse and onto her wallet. I saw it and hollered and she yanked her hands away, and then those women just melted into the crowd, but not before the one with the hands on Mom's purse locked eyes with me for just a split second and gave me this funny little smile, like, Well done for a tourist moron.
Anyway: Yay! Vegas!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
At Long Last
I am free of clinicals. Yes, finally the Skool-B-Gon is working (thank God we got the dosage correct at last) and in just a few more days, I'll be done with finals and free to loaf all summer.
Ha! Ha! Ha! I mean work nearly full time. And clean my filthy home. And spend as much quality time with my child as possible. And not kill anybody out of sheer frustration.
Can't I just maim them a little? I mean, I know killing is illegal and wrong and bad, also punishable by death in some cases, but maiming, surely that's permissable in extenuating circumstances? Just sayin'.
Ha! Ha! Ha! I mean work nearly full time. And clean my filthy home. And spend as much quality time with my child as possible. And not kill anybody out of sheer frustration.
Can't I just maim them a little? I mean, I know killing is illegal and wrong and bad, also punishable by death in some cases, but maiming, surely that's permissable in extenuating circumstances? Just sayin'.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
It's not looking good
First off I had to drop a cool eleven hundred bucks on the car today, and it won't even be repaired until Thursday at the earliest.
But worse than that, Hopie is not doing well. Tonight J called me at work and asked if we had any aspirin, because Hope is walking funny, her back legs don't seem to be working in sync with her front ones, and she is curving her back up when she walks, and J wanted to give her something to make her feel better. She had put in a call to her sister the vet but hadn't yet gotten ahold of her. What eventually happened was that her sister called her back and told her aspirin would be okay but prednisone would be even better.
Okay, how weird is this. Prednisone is not something we typically have in the house but last month I got sick and went to urgent care because I felt just so spectacularly shitty, and among the things they sent home with me was prednisone. Which I almost didn't get the prescription filled, and then didn't even end up taking because the next morning I started to feel the tiniest bit better and just didn't feel like dealing with the hassle of it all. (Yes, I'm going to be a nurse and I'm a lousy patient.)
So J has given her some prednisone per her sister's advice, and the latest update I have is that Hopie has barely moved all evening.
J's sister also had her look in Hope's eyes, and the bad news is that one pupil is fixed and dilated. Her sister fears that this means the cancer has infiltrated Hope's brain, which is what I feared when J first called me tonight, and I am pretty sure that when J takes Hope to her sister's it won't be for surgery, it will be for euthanasia.
Oh, Hopie. We barely knew ye.
But worse than that, Hopie is not doing well. Tonight J called me at work and asked if we had any aspirin, because Hope is walking funny, her back legs don't seem to be working in sync with her front ones, and she is curving her back up when she walks, and J wanted to give her something to make her feel better. She had put in a call to her sister the vet but hadn't yet gotten ahold of her. What eventually happened was that her sister called her back and told her aspirin would be okay but prednisone would be even better.
Okay, how weird is this. Prednisone is not something we typically have in the house but last month I got sick and went to urgent care because I felt just so spectacularly shitty, and among the things they sent home with me was prednisone. Which I almost didn't get the prescription filled, and then didn't even end up taking because the next morning I started to feel the tiniest bit better and just didn't feel like dealing with the hassle of it all. (Yes, I'm going to be a nurse and I'm a lousy patient.)
So J has given her some prednisone per her sister's advice, and the latest update I have is that Hopie has barely moved all evening.
J's sister also had her look in Hope's eyes, and the bad news is that one pupil is fixed and dilated. Her sister fears that this means the cancer has infiltrated Hope's brain, which is what I feared when J first called me tonight, and I am pretty sure that when J takes Hope to her sister's it won't be for surgery, it will be for euthanasia.
Oh, Hopie. We barely knew ye.
Friday, June 06, 2008
It's been a rough week and no mistake
So, got my second day of clinicals in a row over with. It was really quite nice, I worked with the same two patients as the day before, both of whom I really liked. It's a relief to get caught up, and now I have only one clinical day to go, along with review sessions during my classes and two skills to sign off on in the lab. Then finals! And summer! Yay!
That being said, plenty of fecal matter hit the fan this week, mostly in the past couple of days.
Our dog Hope, the smaller, sneakier and higher-strung of our two, ate the last pull-up of Delia's diaper-wearing career and gave herself a delightful intestinal blockage and subsequent inflammation. Vet appointment, x-ray, Zantac, etc etc. She's over that but still wasn't eating, so we took her back to the vet, who then found a lump in her neck. He took a biopsy and today we got the call: yes, it's cancerous. Adenocarcinoma of the thyroid. He informs us that surgery is in order and chemo is usually indicated, and it's best handled by a specialist.
Realistically? We can't afford a specialist. It cost us four hundred dollars that we already couldn't really spare just to get to this point. The dog is nine years old, and J doesn't want to put her through chemo. We'll take her to J's sister, who is a vet and also the source of every sad-sack special-needs animal in our house, for surgery, and whatever will be, will be.
Cut to me feeling like a jerk for not loving this dog for all the nine years I've lived with her. I do love her, she's not a bad dog, but I am not so much a dog person and I haven't been the loving, devoted owner to her. Now that she's feeling poorly and the future doesn't look so bright, I regret the way I've treated her. :( She deserves better than this.
Then, just to drive the whole point home, my engine light came on a few days ago and we dutifully took it to the dealership to get it diagnosed. Yeah. The other call we got today. Catalytic converter is dying a horrible death. There goes another seven hundred dollars or so.
Okay, okay, I get it already. The world is a cruel place and fate is a harsh mistress. Enough already.
That being said, plenty of fecal matter hit the fan this week, mostly in the past couple of days.
Our dog Hope, the smaller, sneakier and higher-strung of our two, ate the last pull-up of Delia's diaper-wearing career and gave herself a delightful intestinal blockage and subsequent inflammation. Vet appointment, x-ray, Zantac, etc etc. She's over that but still wasn't eating, so we took her back to the vet, who then found a lump in her neck. He took a biopsy and today we got the call: yes, it's cancerous. Adenocarcinoma of the thyroid. He informs us that surgery is in order and chemo is usually indicated, and it's best handled by a specialist.
Realistically? We can't afford a specialist. It cost us four hundred dollars that we already couldn't really spare just to get to this point. The dog is nine years old, and J doesn't want to put her through chemo. We'll take her to J's sister, who is a vet and also the source of every sad-sack special-needs animal in our house, for surgery, and whatever will be, will be.
Cut to me feeling like a jerk for not loving this dog for all the nine years I've lived with her. I do love her, she's not a bad dog, but I am not so much a dog person and I haven't been the loving, devoted owner to her. Now that she's feeling poorly and the future doesn't look so bright, I regret the way I've treated her. :( She deserves better than this.
Then, just to drive the whole point home, my engine light came on a few days ago and we dutifully took it to the dealership to get it diagnosed. Yeah. The other call we got today. Catalytic converter is dying a horrible death. There goes another seven hundred dollars or so.
Okay, okay, I get it already. The world is a cruel place and fate is a harsh mistress. Enough already.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Who's a Good Little Bicyclist?! I AM!
Okay, so I hauled my fat ass out of mothballs and went on a bike ride this evening. It had been since like last fall. Let it never be so long again. I had such fun and it felt so good.
Here's what makes this very funny:
My friend Wussy McFairweatherpants, who bailed on me last fall on the Livestrong ride because it was raining (but who in fairness did warn me that she might, and it really was raining all day), drove for 20 miles, through rush hour traffic, having left at 4pm to be there by 6pm to get to the start of the ride, and arrived only to find that she'd left her front wheel in the garage. She has one of those roof racks that you take the front wheel off your bike and when she loaded it up, she just neglected to put the wheel in the car.
Oops. Bet from now on she puts the front wheel in the car FIRST.
So we gave her bushel baskets of crap about this, which she took very stoically, and then we left on our ride. Two ride leaders, a few women I didn't know, and Wussy's friend who I'd just met that evening.
Lo and behold, it began to rain. At maybe the half mile mark, maybe even less, the leaders pulled the ride over and said, if you're gonna bail from the weather, do it now. No shame, no harm, no foul, it's raining. Go home if you're gonna. About half the riders did so, leaving me, Wussy's friend, and one other woman. (BTW it's a "ladies" ride) Off we went, riding nearly twelve miles in what was occasionally some fairly comprehensive rain, other times mere drizzle, even completely drying up altogether once in a while. I'd say it rained about 3/4 of the time. Wussy's friend and I both stuck with it, in part just so we could lord it over Wussy.
Annette, if you're reading this, I'm just kidding about calling you Wussy and I'm really looking forward to seeing you and your bike and BOTH of its wheels next week. :) You rock!
Here's what makes this very funny:
My friend Wussy McFairweatherpants, who bailed on me last fall on the Livestrong ride because it was raining (but who in fairness did warn me that she might, and it really was raining all day), drove for 20 miles, through rush hour traffic, having left at 4pm to be there by 6pm to get to the start of the ride, and arrived only to find that she'd left her front wheel in the garage. She has one of those roof racks that you take the front wheel off your bike and when she loaded it up, she just neglected to put the wheel in the car.
Oops. Bet from now on she puts the front wheel in the car FIRST.
So we gave her bushel baskets of crap about this, which she took very stoically, and then we left on our ride. Two ride leaders, a few women I didn't know, and Wussy's friend who I'd just met that evening.
Lo and behold, it began to rain. At maybe the half mile mark, maybe even less, the leaders pulled the ride over and said, if you're gonna bail from the weather, do it now. No shame, no harm, no foul, it's raining. Go home if you're gonna. About half the riders did so, leaving me, Wussy's friend, and one other woman. (BTW it's a "ladies" ride) Off we went, riding nearly twelve miles in what was occasionally some fairly comprehensive rain, other times mere drizzle, even completely drying up altogether once in a while. I'd say it rained about 3/4 of the time. Wussy's friend and I both stuck with it, in part just so we could lord it over Wussy.
Annette, if you're reading this, I'm just kidding about calling you Wussy and I'm really looking forward to seeing you and your bike and BOTH of its wheels next week. :) You rock!
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