Archive for January, 2009

What the…?

Posted in health, holy crap, life, she-it on January 31, 2009 by Nada

I’m finally got the MRI report today. The report said the tumor regrowth or residual was in the transverse sinus wall. Oh for fuck’s sake. Will someone please do their job and read a surgical report? Yes, there was a tumor over there but it was removed. No residual. None. Zippo. Maybe someone, who was eating in the operating room, left a Doritos in my brain. I guess that could explain the blip on the MRI but really the only residual tumor was left in the sagittal sinus wall. So, my neurologist wrote me a nice email, “See you in 6 months.” What the fuck is he smoking? crack laced dope with a side of candy bar Twix. I emailed him back with a request to see my neurosurgeon. Yeah, tumor growth where there should be none is kind of alarming. At least in my book. At least in my brain.

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Current MRI of My Brain

Posted in health, life on January 30, 2009 by Nada

fake_mri

Bummer

Posted in health, life, she-it, whatevah on January 29, 2009 by Nada

The Junior MRI found some brain tumor growth or regrowth or space trash in the same location in my brain as the prior brain tumor. It’s a waiting game now. I had to come home and fetch my stash of old MRIs for comparisons. The radiologists want to see if this is residual. It’s not. The new growth is 1/3 inch x 1/2 inch. Last MRI in 2006 showed nothing. I sit around the house while the experts poke about their screens and look for hooie. I’m treating this the only way I know how – with chocolate. Phase 1: Godiva. Phase 2: Twix. Phase 3: Hersheys bar, 6 squares. If the neurosurgeon goes after this surgically, I’m asking for a metal plate in the back of my head. I can’t stand all this collapsing mess any more. I’m also asking for a garage door so they can just let it up and down as need be. I also want him to fix the bags under my eyes while he’s working around with a scalpel.

Leopard doh

Posted in general weirdness, she-it on January 27, 2009 by Nada

I installed Leopard on my MAC yesterday. Okay. Okay. So, I know I’m running behind, but I don’t like to install the latest and greatest and then fiddle with bugs. I usually install OSs after they have been out a while. Yeah. Like right before another operating system is coming out named something ridiculous like Snow Leopard. Anyway, I also decided sometime last week, my readers, all two of them, needed to see pictures on my blog and though my digital camera and I are still not friends, I would use my cell phone to take pictures. Well, you pretty much guessed what happened. The Leopard I installed on my MAC is now saying this about the camera on my cell phone, “The disk you inserted was not readable by this computer.” WTF? It was readable two shakes of a lamb’s tail ago when you called yourself Tiger. Now you are a Leopard you can’t read. What? Did you go blind? Did you become illiterate. She-it. You crazy MoFo. Did you de-device yourself? I hate you.

So, in other freak-out I-am-an-electrical-storm-disguised-as-a-small-white-woman news. The battery back up/voltage regulator for my MAC and router blew, screaming like someone cut its big toe off with pinking shears. Its rechargeable battery died. Turns out the battery replacement costs about as much as the unit. When I went to get my MRI on Saturday, half the power was out, so they gave me the MRI on the “junior” machine, because the big one was down. Junior sounded like a dryer with a loose belt. Or worse. Sounded like he needed a 9-1-1 call to Sears. If you think MRIs are unnerving, imagine claustrophobia with a yelping belt. Then after that my watch went crazy. And no, I did not wear my watch in the big magnet. My watch was down the hall in a locker. I put my watch on and wore it home. The watch went crazy afterward and decided it was 10:00 on 1/1/1. Timex. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking, just random ticking, like what are you doing ticking? Are you working with Leopard? Are you going to make up some lame error message like “The disk you inserted was not readable by this computer.” And it’s not a freaking disk dodo. It’s a phone. I hate you.

Toilet Seat Covers

Posted in general weirdness, life on January 25, 2009 by Nada

toiletseatcoverdispenserCan you read the writing on the cardboard box inside the dispenser? It says, “Life Guard.” Life guard, like I’m planning on swimming in the toilet. Frankly, I think “Ass Guard” is more appropriate, or “In case of toilet paper shortage, use these.” Or if they were feeling really sassy, they could print on the box, “Anus Guard.”

And the metal dispenser. Look at it. It looks like a robot head with paper for its eyes. “I am the big robot head. My eyes are for your ass only.” Or something.

Akimbo

Posted in life on January 24, 2009 by Nada

rain_garbage2My neighbor’s house is close, really close, close like that mixed bread German Shepherd leaning on your knee, begging for the last bit of steak off your dinner plate. Their house is so close that every morning at 10am when the wife leaves for work, you swear you are learning Cantonese as she squawks to her husband in their driveway. This woman is diminutive, and her voice is weak. Yet, when she leaves each morning at 10am, she could shout an F-15 fighter out of the sky over the thruster noises, not using the radios. Every morning, she and her husband jockey their two cars out their single lane driveway and roar Cantonese at each, or rather she does, I can barely hear him. Then she laughs, “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.” For years, I didn’t know her name. I called her, “Ha Ha.” I still don’t know his.

Some mornings I think she’s amusing. Some mornings I think, how can they do this every day? What is so freakin’ funny about their driveway? Other days, I wanted to lean out the window and say, “Can ya pipe down? There’s some important email that requires my undivided.” Then on the rare occasion, there’s the morning it doesn’t happen. The rest of the day feels akimbo from lack of a proper launch.

Doctor Man

Posted in health, life, whatevah on January 23, 2009 by Nada

graffiti_headsIn my continuing Year of the Ass mode, I saw my headache neurologist today and when he asked if his resident could sit in on the appointment, I said, “No.” Stunned silence. The appointment slid downhill after that. He decided my anti-seizure/headache prevention drug isn’t working so well. Wonder what tipped him off? The falls on the BART escalator? The trip to the ER? He’s going to conference in on my appointment next week with my epilepsy neurologist. And here, I thought they were going to talk behind my back.

So, I dove right in with my crazy list. “Doc, there’s this place on the back of my head that the neurosurgeon left behind that’s like a Baggie slider that won’t quite close. I can punch on it and the pain will bring me to my knees and when it’s done with that, it will make a migraine. I need a neurosurgeon to cut it out,” I said.

Now this guy’s got a pretty good poker face, but not good enough. “Don’t touch that spot. Don’t even brush your finger on it,” he said. “That’s the greater occipital nerve and everyone has that, even people who have not had brain surgery. Yours is just more sensitive.”

“No. Mine needs to be cut out.”

“No, that’ll make it worse.”

“It already is worse,” I said.

The appointment was a shorty. He thought things were in good stead. They weren’t. They were flopping like a fish outta water. So, I see my epilepsy doc next week. They probably will talk behind my back before I get there. That’s okay. It’s the Year of the Ass. I can handle ‘em.