Search This Blog

Monday, March 18, 2024

Monday, Monday

 I have this week off from Mass General Hospital. YIPPEE! Next week I'll begin formal prep for my upcoming brain surgery. On Monday I'm to stop taking all vitamins, supplements and NSAIDs (aspirin, ibuprofen, etc). I'm wondering if this means I can't take my nightly weed gummy too. I expect it does and now I haz a sad—one little gummy helps me get off to sleep AND mostly stay that way. No gummy means bad sleepy. I get cranky when I don't have sufficient time with Morpheus. I'm less brilliantly likeable when I'm a sleep deprived crankasaurus. Just ask poor Jen and Ten.

In any case, later next week I'll have another raft of tests (CT and blood work {versus a bloodbath}) and a visit with my neurologist, Doc Plotkin.  I've already read the MRI results report and, as best as I can understand, my spine monster is stable (YEA!) but the multiple beasts living in my bean have been getting fat and rowdy. I'm unsurprised. Possibly, on top of early April's surgery, there's more proton radiation in the near future. WHEEEE!

Yes, in case you were unsure, I am in fact insanely jealous of all my similarly aged (i.e., OLD) friends who are hale and hearty enough to travel, hike, bike, go to live music venues and just fucking shop in actual stores. Hillel recently told me that he and his wife will be going to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe this summer. Afterwards they'll do a bike tour in the Highlands. I will need him to text me absolute boatloads of pics. DAILY!

I only mention it but having a rare, incurable and debilitating disease is less than ideal. 0 out of 10—do NOT recommend.

Meanwhile here in Valhalla, the crocuses are coming up. It's still chilly and a bit too windy for yours tippy-as-all-hell truly to be doing my rehab walking outside but SOON I'll be hobbling along the seawall again. On that note, time to shower and hit the Y.  

Whoopee!

Sunday, March 17, 2024

Goo goo g'cheugy

I am hopelessly out of date with respect to…well, just about everything. What I’m referring to now, specifically, is slang. This, is honestly, to be fully expected. I mean, ffs, I’m in my goddamn mid-60s, I’ve been deaf for nearly 20 years and I don’t get outta the house (‘cept to MGH and the Y) much.

Hi, my name is Donna and I’m age-appropriately cheugy.

Cheugy
     adjective
pronounced CHEW-gee (dunno if the ‘g’ is hard or soft)
: out of date and trying too hard.

Dina is ridiculously cheugy. I mean…she wears skinny jeans STILL, went to Disney on her honeymoon and has one of those stupid Eat, Pray, Love signs on her kitchen wall.

Other things that are cheugy?
Side parts, infinity scarfs, energy drinks, Axe body spray, cargo shorts and, sadly, glitter tumbler cups (I love those!).

A person who is cheugy is a cheug.

Ummmmm:
     I am the egg man
     They are the egg men
     I am the cheug man
     Goo goo g'joob

Bet
     interjection
: term of affirmation, agreement, or approval along the lines of “Cool!” or “I’m down!” It can also suggest doubt or disbelief: “Yeah, sure.”

Me: My next brain surgery is scheduled for April ninth.
Friend: Bet!

Whether this theoretical friend is expressing supportive enthusiasm for me finally getting the monster meningioma out of my head OR telling me that they don’t believe I’m going in for more bean excavation so soon, is unknown.

Snatched

     adjective
“fierce” or “on point,” particularly when it comes to someone’s hair, makeup, and physical appearance. 

Jon Batiste and Suleika Jaouad were completely snatched at the Oscars.

Question—are “on pont” replacing “on-fleek?”

On-fleek
     adjective
flawlessly styled, groomed, etc.

Cybill’s outfit and makeup were totally on-fleek.

I imagine this won’t come as a surprise, I’m much more comfortable with slang from the 20th century. More so, the lingo used in the earlier part of the 1900s. Why? I’m not entirely sure but I suspect it might come from being rilly keen on films that came out in the ‘30s and ‘40s (hello Mae West, W.C. Fields, Bogart, Bacall, Bette Davis, etc.). I was wild about The Andrew Sisters, hard bop and jitterbugging.

While scrolling along (NOT doomscrolling) I found Cab Calloway’s Hepster’s Dictionary which originally came out in 1938. It’s an introduction to the slang of musicians working in Harlem at that time. Some words and phrases you probably already know and some are wonderful trips into the past. More than a few became part of standard speech (e.g., chick=girl, freeby=no charge/free, have a ball=enjoy yourself). In any case, the site’s well worth a perusal. I’ve got to check the library—I’m hooked now and want to read through the whole collection.

I find it amusing and disturbing that my fascination, way back in the 1970s, with all things 1940s would be like current 12 to 20 year olds immersing themselves in all things 1990s. Jesus be bop Christ, that’s only 30 years ago. For my grandnieces, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, The Matrix, Good Fellas—grunge, indie films and flannel shirts might evoke a cool, better, more fun, “long ago past” era. History.

My youth is now the stuff of history books. Jesust on an off-time jive, I’m feeling old.



Saturday, March 16, 2024

Assorted Nonsense

* BREAKING NEWS *
Measles have announced their full endorsement of the RFK Jr./Aaron Rodgers presidential ticket. Spokesmeasle, Clyde Rubeola, stated that "without RFK Jr. and the rest of the Disinformation Dozen, we wouldn't be back in action today." Polio Myelitis, envoy for the Polio Rocks Foundation, agrees wholeheartedly and hopes the Junior/Rodgers team will work as splendidly for them too. "We haven't been at the forefront of disabling Americans since that damn vaccine came out in 1955. With Junior/Rodgers at the helm, we'll be infecting and crippling children once again!"


In related news:
 

Cockroaches now overwhelmingly addicted to Raid. “Really gives me that extra boost I need on Monday mornings,” says Ronnie Roach.

Superman and Lex Luthor bury the Kryptonite hatchet and start dating. "They were always meant to be together. It's a match made on Lexor!" says Lois Lane.


Swan Boats refuse to return to Boston Public Garden later this month siting the city’s insanely high rents, lousy drivers and their own personal dislike of tourists. No surprise.

Minnie Mouse has divorced Mickey—says their marriage was a farce. Claims she and Pluto have been living together since 1962. “He’s a lot more fun, doesn’t smoke and can still get it up.”

Friday, March 15, 2024

Brainless Seeks Braindead

 The fact that I can’t explode into a cloud of a thousand bats to escape the scary parts of the current timeline is a source of constant irritation.

I imagine you’ve already 
heard that RFK’s stupidest and MOST embarrassing offspring is still running for president. Does this mook sincerely believe he’s smart, savvy and forward thinking enough to be a great leader? Has he not grasped that he’s nothing more than a big name doofus being used by Cheato’s enforcers to peel off Biden voters in swing states?

This imbecile doesn’t even seem to understand that, now, in the internet age, all his absurdities can be easily fact-checked by anyone. Yes, even by yurs truly.

Fer instance:

  • At an anti-vaccine conference in Georgia on Friday, presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. confirmed his commitment to the cause and spoke to his base about how he, as president, would serve the movement he built.I feel like I’ve come home today,” he said to a standing ovation, crediting the assembled audience with his candidacy. (source)

The anti-vax conference was in late October of ’23. Three months earlier, in July, he testified under oath before a congressional hearing that he’s never urged the public to avoid vaccination. Fucking puke-stained liar.

What other conspiracy theories does the old, famous familied, wealthy dimwit tout?

  • Mass shootings are linked to prescription drugs (sure...idiot)
  • The pharmaceutical industry is throwing money at Democrats (nope)
  • Former White House medical advisor Dr. Anthony Fauci and Microsoft cofounder Bill Gates sought to exaggerate the pandemic, in part, to promote vaccines (STOP dropping the brown acid, man!)

Check out the actual facts (and Junior’s other debunked beliefs) at this Forbes post.

Given that he believes that mass shootings are caused by meds (specifically antidepressants) it’s unsurprising that this GOP donor supported candidate is looking at fellow anti-vaxxer and Sandy Hook Massacre denying football player, Aaron Rodgers.

In 2013 the quarterback was chatting up a journalist at the Kentucky Derby. He:

… immediately began attacking the news media for covering up important stories. Rodgers brought up the tragic killing of 20 children and 6 adults by a gunman at Sandy Hook Elementary School, claiming it was actually a government inside job and the media was intentionally ignoring it.

When Brown questioned him on the evidence to show this very real shooting was staged, Rodgers began sharing various theories that have been disproven numerous times. Such conspiracy theories were also later at the center of lawsuits brought by victims’ families when they sued conspiracy theorist Alex Jones on the matter.
(source)
So, Junior feels that it’s best for democracy and American citizens to have a devotee of cray cray Alex Jones just a heartbeat away from the Oval Office.
It's certainly a match made in hell: Anti-vaccination conspiracy theorist Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has announced that he's considering New York Jets quarterback Aaron Rodgers to be his running mate for his, uh, "presidential" campaign. Scare quotes because there's little reason to believe Kennedy thinks he can even get on the ballot as an independent candidate in all 50 states, much less that he can win. Instead, the goal here appears to be twofold: First, to gin up interest and therefore money for Kennedy's conspiracy theory empire. Second, to siphon off enough votes from President Joe Biden to throw the election to Donald Trump.

 Unsurprisingly, the Republican-affiliated donors funding Kennedy's campaign have a laser-like focus on getting his name on ballots in swing states, while ignoring deep red or blue states where his presence won't affect the outcome. (source)


I’m curious, is Junior so much of a contemptibly stupid narcissist that he doesn’t see that he’s no more than a right wing tool? OR is he a Republi/Facsist banking on his famous, martyred father's name in his efforts to masquerade as a Dem and win the presidency for Trump?

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

The Ordeal

About those back to back MRIs yesterday. They didn’t go well. No, I don’t have the results yet (and won’t until the 28th when I next see Plotkin). Also, I was sufficiently mellowed out...or so I thought. The problem was the staff—I believe they were training new techs (MGH is a teaching hospital after all).

  • Instead of the normal one and three quarters to two hours of machine time, I was in there for close to three fucking hours. Yes, it’s an “open MRI” versus the traditional torpedo tube MRI but my head was still enclosed in a cage (and packed tight in there with stiff foam padding so my shaking—those fucking tremors I get—would be minimized). At the top of the two hour mark, I realized I should’ve taken more drugs.
  • Each of my two-in-a-row scans is a two part deal. In the past, the first half is done straight—brain and then upper spine (no pause between the two). For the second half, they shoot some “contrast” shit into me. My understanding is that this is some kind of neon-esque fluid that lights up my tumors all nice and Broadway-like.

Not me. Picture this set up though, 
with vinyl covered, stiff foam 
padding on either side of my head.
The techs don’t roll me completely outta the machine to shoot me up—just far enough to inject the neon into my already installed IV. When I have these back to back MRIs, I’m shot up with contrast once only. The techs do my brain and thoracic scans one after the other.

Yesterday was different. For the first time in my 40 years of these fucking torturous tests, the techs took me completely out of the machine after each step. In fact, each time they had me get up and sit on a chair whilst they fiddled with the machine’s set up. Afterward, they placed me back on the platform, repacked my head in its tight cage and I was rolled in again. 

Lemme just tell you, each head packing, each time my head’s caged, is a fresh challenge to my  mondo muscular claustrophobia. This happened a total of FOUR times (brain without contrast, spine without contrast, brain w/contrast and spine w/contrast).

  • On one of my sitting-in-a-chair breaks, I realized that I had to hit the loo. I told the tech but she vetoed that, saying they were ready to start me up again. I figured I could maybe hold on for a bit—after all, we just HAD to be close to done. I lasted as long as I could before hitting the panic button and shouting “I NEED TO PEE NOW, NOW, NOW!” The techs rolled me out, freed my head, took out my IV and off I quickly tottled to the can.

Thank the beautiful baby Bast that Jen was there to assist. I made it. Also, the ordeal was finally over.

I’ve been getting MRIs for the past 40 years. Now that I’m using the “open MRI,” I can stand to be in the machine for two scans in a row. Getting my brain and thoracic spine done in the same session saves me from having to take calming meds for a solid week (that shit wears me clean out). It saves me from having to endure horrendous Boston traffic multiple times in a week. It’s smoother, less stressful. Usually.

Yesterday was fucking amateur hour.

Jen told me later that the woman who came out before I went in was upset and yelling back at the techs about how rude they were. I didn’t find them rude so much as inexperienced, not as skilled as I’m accustomed. They were obviously stressed out and in way over their heads.

Oh yeah, I’m totally registering a complaint or three.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Big Day for Donna

 I’m having two MRIs this morning. One for my brain—specifically focusing on that mondo motherfucker that Dr. Curry (AKA Barack Obama’s twin) will be trimming down next month (on April 9th to be all precise and shit). The second MRI is for the Cthulu-esque mother on my thoracic spine. I don’t believe that one’s currently acting up but the fucker’s gotta be looked in on regularly.

Whoopee!
I’ve taken my calm me down pills but, as yet, do not feel particularly stoned. I’ll have one more tab before they load me into the machine. Maybe a wee weed gummy too.

Joy.

After these scans are in the rear view mirror I’ll, hopefully, regain some of my ability to concentrate and focus. If so, I can smoothly get back to my tax prep work. I also need to find a new supplemental health care plan. I only discovered that the plan I’ve had for years, stopped covering me sometime this past fall with NO notice. I’ve got Medicare but need something else to fill in the gaps.  

All the paperwork that comes with being a goddamned adult? HATE IT!


What I’d really love to do is ditch this Neurofibromatosis Type 2 shit, pack a bag and hop a flight to the Shetland Islands. I want to check out the wicked cool archeological digs, bird watch and hang in some old rustic pubs. Maybe zip over to Iceland next, take a long spin around the island before easing myself into the geothermic pool at the Silica Hotel. I’d like to check out what all that hot lava has done to the landscape. Anything? Next I’ll hit Greenland. I’ve never been there before. I’d def check out the Nuuk Art Museum, some glaciers, icebergs, hot springs, polar bears, whales and reindeer.

I need to be able to walk better before I do this (or get a walker with mountain bike tires). Also, renewing my goddamn passport is key. What languages are spoken in Greenland? Does my voice to text translation app carry it?
This morning here in Valhalla

Sunday, March 10, 2024

Things to Know

Most dangerous natural predators of America
Generally, Other humans. 

Specifically:

  • American gun owners.
  • Men who’ve never accepted the reality that women are humans deserving equal rights.
  • Religious people who proselytize (walk it, don’t talk it).
  • Grifters and sales-weasels (I know, same/same).
  • Women who’ve married for money and/or prestige and have forgotten that they are still thought of as second class citizens with fewer rights than a zygote. Broadly, the rich don’t consider the poor fully human (especially when we’re Black, brown or disabled women). 
  •  “Boy Moms” and their invariably entitled, spoiled, precious, future-abusers-of-America sons.
  • The performatively well meaning. They may actually have the best intentions but the follow through is either pathetic or nonexistent.
  • The willfully ignorant (easy to spot in their red MAGA caps).

Random Advice Found Online

  • If you find a strange creepy book with a cover made of human skin, do NOT read the Latin text out loud. IF you do, you’ll invariably summon a monster (his name’s Clyde—all summoned baddies are named Clyde. The lack of their own personal, individual name is why they got into the monster biz). Clyde will kill you slowly and excruciatingly painfully in order to appease the ancient gods. The gods have given Clyde a choice—dispose of you in some ultra nasty manner OR destroy the earth. Hard decision, ya know? Ultimately, offing one measly human involves less clean up so….just don’t read from the skeevy human skin cover book. K?
  • Make your writing more professional and smooth by avoiding the use of the words “got” and “get.” Try acquire(d), gather(ed) or obtain(ed) instead. Got it?
  • A hot bath or shower is an excellent way to soothe your mind and body.
  • If you decide to rob a bank, you’ll have no trouble with making the rent and other bills for the next ten years. This works whether your heist succeeds or not.
  • Don't suppress your farts. When you do, the gas travels up your spine and into your brain. This is how shitty ideas are born.  
  • Don't ingest the mysterious black goop from that ancient Egyptian tomb you’re unearthing. Just stop yourself—even if it smells like hot chocolate with a shot of Baileys.
  •  DON'T give excuses unless they’re asked for. e.g.:
"Sorry I'm a tad late."
"I'm not gonna be able to make the party. Thanks for thinking of me though.”
"I won’t be able to finish the assignment by Tuesday. Can I have an extension?
  • Learn how to say no kindly and diplomatically.
  • Learn how to make basic cocktails—Martinis, Cosmopolitans, White Russians, Gimlets and Aviations*. Learn how to make nonalcoholic versions (if they exist). Otherwise, try one of these.

* Aviation
2 ounces gin
1/2 ounce maraschino liqueur
1/4 ounce creme de violette
3/4 ounce lemon juice, freshly squeezed

Garnish: brandied cherry


Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice—shake until chilled. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry.