Day of the Hump

 I read that someone named Toby Keith died recently. Apparently he was some cowboy hat wearing, pro-lynching, warmongering, mysoginistic country singer.

As you may already know, though I’ve loved a wildly broad range of musical genres, I’ve always despised country “music.” What’s to like about twangy love songs to pickup trucks and guns, self pitying poor-sad-me (and my dog) laments and all the two-dimensional, cheap, RAH-RAH-USA-USA jingoism? Nothing, that’s what.

Urban Dictionary has a half a dozen or so useful entries on Keith. Here are a few:

Untalented country douchebag who saw a vast untapped market in making CDs full of songs exploiting American troops and advocating extreme nationalism and selling them to uninformed, (un)educated assholes...

Toby Keith is a country music star. He is very famous. He is also an idiot. Like most xenophobic red neck assholes he is cashing in on the horrible tragedies currently involving the United States of America and militant and radical Islam.

see cock gobbler
also see ass muncher
hey ya'll, waatch mee steeck theeis lizard skein boot up ma' ass.

So, he died relatively young (62) of stomach cancer. That’s a shame (for some…I guess).

I’m thinking ice cream for breakfast—how about you?
~~~
Ten and I are headed into Mass Eye and Ear Infirmary shortly. I’m having my annual checkup in the Neuro Ophthalmology department. This’ll consist of a slew of different annoying tests—my pupils will be dilated and the doc will leave the bulk of the actual exam to his residents. Then he'll come in to say a quick hello after a dramatic show of skimming their notes.

It’s become clear to me that he’s not engaged or, possibly, even interested in me as a patient. Fer fuck’s sake, there’s so much wrong with my system, I’m a goddamn goldmine to neurology medics! That is IF you’re still intellectually invested in neurology. Maybe his mind is on the golf course?

Of my entire MGH/MEEI pit crew, he’s my least favorite. Why not switch? He’s the department’s director, the big kahuna. I asked my cornea specialist (who I adore) about this. She strongly advised me to stick with him because he does all these tests which aren’t done in her department. Yes, I see her point but if the dude’s not really focusing on me and my results, what’s the point? If he seems as out of touch today as he’s been in the past, I’m going to request that he hand me off to another neuro-oph who has a greater ability to focus.

I’m already deaf—I will NOT risk my motherfucking sight!

Riddle Me This

If we leave the house at 8:30 for a 10AM appointment at Mass General, it will take two+ hours to go the 14 miles from Vahalla’s front door to the doc’s office. This means, having left 90 minutes versus 120+, I’m gonna be late and need to reschedule.

If we leave the house at 8AM, that very same commute will take one single hour and maybe 15 minutes. I’m then nearly a full hour early. Ah well, I can always stop for coffee.

Question—does time get warped between 8 and 8:30? Is there some time/dimensional rift that goes down on 93 north at 8AM?

Yesterday I was actually early for my twice postponed (due to the evil commute) Swallow Doctor appointment. Results? I’m basically fine though I’ve stumped Dr. Song. Ya see, the difficulty I had swallowing my food this past summer (and the summer before) cleared up as soon as summer’s heat passed. Dr. Song tells me that, normally, swallow issues usually come up in colder weather when the air is drier. NOT summer. Why is my larynx being a contrary dick?

I’ll see Song again in July when my swallow function is expected to be in revolt again. Also, we’ve made the appointment for 11AM so we can avoid that 8-9AM time sink.

More BIG FUN with neurofibromatosis type2.

~~~

Do you remember Fractured Fairy Tales? It was a short feature of every Rocky & Bullwinkle Show—a retelling/reimagining of extant fairy tales narrated by the great character actor Edward Everett Horton.

There was Leaping Beauty where, instead of Beauty falling asleep for a zillion years, she becomes an awful bore who puts everyone else to sleep.

Son of Rumplestilstskin where the son fares no better than his father. 

The Enchanted Gnat was about an ungrateful child. 

In another Fractured Sleeping Beauty the prince, instead of waking the princess with a kiss, turns her into a Disneyland-esque tourist attraction.
The Rocky & Bullwinkle Show was my absolute favorite as a kid. There’s a very good chance that I’m gonna need to buy myself the entire series on DVD. Maybe I’ll wait and see if prices drop after Xmas.

~~~

I learned a new phrase—trauma dumping. It’s confused with but NOT the same as venting.

Venting: When you’re venting, you share your frustrations with someone you trust to reduce your stress. You’re intentional about what you share and aware that you’re venting. You may say something like, “Can I just vent for five minutes?”

Trauma dumping: With trauma dumping, you overshare difficult or intimate personal information without the other person’s consent or during inappropriate times. You don’t consider how your words impact the listener, and you’re not open to advice or solutions.
~~
Venting is a healthy way to share negative emotions and reduce stress. But with trauma dumping, you overshare in a way that makes the listener feel overwhelmed or ignored. (source)

I’ll bet I’ve trauma dumped a time or two and, if I’ve done that to you, I’m SO sorry! Like most folks, I’ve also had a friend or two trauma dump on me. In any close friendship this is gonna happen. An important thing—make sure you’re on a two-way street. 

If you’re not? Sometimes all I can do is set firm boundaries and recommend the dumper see a therapist.

Stuck

Yesterday I was to have an early AM appointment with Doctor Song, my otolaryngologist (throat doc).

Patients with NF2 may develop voice, swallowing, and breathing impairment due to vocal fold paralysis (VFP). This typically results from compression of the vagus nerve by tumors at the cerebellopontine angle (CPA) or jugular foramen, or nerve injury during tumor resection. (source)

I was supposed to see him a couple weeks ago but had become hopelessly stuck in tunnel traffic and needed to reschedule. Waddyaknow, similar thing happened yesterday. This time though, Ten and I never even made it out of our little town. The road leading to the highway onramp was horrifically backed up and NOT moving. Okay, maybe it was but just a teeny tiny bit. Even so, snails and turtles were  zooming past us. Me with my rollator and wonk-ass strength could have walked from Wollaston Beach to 93N faster.

I felt like we’d left enough time for the 14 mile commute (90 minutes) but, as we stagnantly sat there, it became clear that, nope-a-reeno, an hour and a half was not enough. We, once again, rescheduled, turned around and went home. Jesus fucking Christ, getting into town should NOT be such a gridlockian horror show.

Next time, I’m going to take a chance that my strength has improved enough to ride the T. Luckily yesterday's appointment was just an annual checkup—I’m not currently having trouble swallowing, speaking or breathing.

A sip of wine, a cigarette
And then it’s time to go.
I tidied up the kitchenette;
I tuned the old banjo.
I’m wanted at the traffic-jam.
They’re saving me a seat.
~ Leonard Cohen

Swallowing

I’m headed in to Mass Eye and Ear this morning for a Barium Swallow test. This, naturally, puts my old ceramic chemistry days in mind

Barium carbonate has long been used as an ingredient in high-fire glazes, sometimes conferring unique properties upon glazes. One of the alkaline earth carbonates, it has also been used as rat poison (large doses can be toxic to humans as well) (source)

So, I’m gonna consume something that I stopped using in my glazes due to it’s toxicity? Oh wait, this is a different sort of barium. I should be okay. I will be especially okay because, post test, Jen and I will hit Dairy Freeze for a big bowl of butterscotch dipped vanilla soft serve!

The week after next is my MRI marathon. Two sessions—the first is an hour or so, the second is two plus hours long. I’m stocked up on calm-me-down meds but still need to come up with meditative images and scenarios on which to focus while in the machine. It’s an open MRI this time—my extreme claustrophobia will be less but not *POOF* gone. The illustration doesn’t show it but, for both styles, my entire body goes into the machine.

My big fears are that the test results will show that I need more surgery soon, like, now. I’m just beginning to glimpse a return to normalcy (it’s still down the road but, if I squint, I can see it). I SO totally do not want to be thrown back to the beginning of rehab road.

If my life wasn’t funny it would just be true and that is unacceptable.
~ Carrie Fisher

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.
~ Helen Keller

True but, c’mon now, I could use a break. I’d like to have overcome (PAST TENSE, dammit!) versus being constantly in the process of overcoming.

A good half of the art of living is resilience.
~ Alain de Botton

Who says: Hard times?
I'm used to them
The speeding planet burns
I'm used to that
My life's so common it disappears
And sometimes even music
Cannot substitute for tears
~ Paul Simon, The Cool Cool River

Fall seven times, stand up eight.
~ Japanese proverb

And if it’s bad
Don't let it get you down, you can take it
And if it hurts
Don't let them see you cry, you can make it

Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head up, woman
Hold your head high
~ Argent, Hold Your Head Up 

My barn having burned down, I can now see the moon.
~ Mizuta Masahide

AND to paraphrase and add to Mr. Nietzsche’s thoughts:

That which does not kill me makes me stronger, more bitchy (yeah, I bet ya didn’t think that was possible) and gives me twisted, dark sense of humor.

Another Good Friday

I’ve been to a lot of concerts in my day and I just do NOT remember the ticket buying experience being so mystifyingly weird and scam-riddled. On Thursday I attempted to buy our passports to September's Waterboys show. They’ll be at the Wilbur and this was a “special pre-sale” event.

Most were either $40 or $50 though there was one selection for $10,027 – a blindingly, odd, EXTREME amount. What the hell do you get for 10 large? Room, board and sexytime with Mike Scott for a year?

I opted for the $40 standing room/floor “seats” and proceeded to check out. The total was close to 300 smackers. ‘the fuck?!!! How do two $40 tickets end up costing almost 300 bucks? Ya know, I’m no math genius but this seemed ridiculously, full-stop wrong.

So yeah, I passed on the “special pre-sale event” tickets. Can you say rapaciously greedheaded and sloppy scam? Sure, I know ya can.

I decided to order, along with the hoi polloi, on Friday. I figured, them not being the Stones and all, they wouldn’t sell out on the very first day. Plus, I was buying standing room/floor tickets, not seats. I wouldn’t miss my chance.

On this new purchasing effort I found that the lowest ticket price was now $79 – bummer but I really wanted to go. After some tussling with me old parsimonious bean I decided to move ahead. If the markup was insane again I’d pass.

On checkout, this time 'round, the total was a hair over $200. Even with the doubled ticket price this was still MUCH less than the "special pre-sale" cost. I'm now concert bound. YEA!

By the by, I think special, in that sale title, means something distinctly unflattering. Ya know – like rube or dimwitted mark.

Other good news from Friday – I had a GREAT visit with Doc Jacobs (my cornea minder while Doc Dana’s away). For the very first time, I got a happy divination on my lamps. With this PROSE lens that I’m hoping/am very likely to get, the good Doc says I’ll have fine and full vision for another 20 years+. (dunno if the rest of me'll last that long but the eye's will be ALL set!)

I’m so used to doom and gloom from the medics – this was AWESOME!

Ten and I celebrated afterward with lunch at La Paloma. Chips, salsa and cod tacos are a grand way to beat the happy drum. Fer reals and shit.

Now I’m thinking that I might like to switch cornea minders. I like the one I have BUT Jacobs is mega personable, funny (in the face of potential blindness, humor is KEY), a creative thinker AND she got me in the door at BostonSight.

Monday’s my first visit at BostonSight. I don’t know precisely what to expect but I’ve some ideas. There’ll be a long-ass eye exam, tests to see if I can deal with the ginormous lens and, given the day-long appointments, BostonSight has a well stocked, open-to-all kitchen. AND there will be CART (Communication Access Real-time Translation – “the instant translation of the spoken word into English text using a stenotype machine, notebook computer and realtime software.” ). An Nf2-ing friend, who got a PROSE lens a year or two ago, said the doctors and staff there are fabola.

All the same, I may pop a calm me down tab beforehand.  Deep breathing exercises and a few dozen laps in the pool will help too. I CAN do this!

I don't have to go to MEEI today!

Ed Wexler

Not having to go to Mass Eye and Ear makes today – a rainy, cold Monday – a very good, rainy cold Monday.

The only good thing about that scary-ass eye crapoli with the mondo fear of losing my wonky-yet-adorably-useful left eye (besides the happy ending) is that I didn’t have the bandwidth to spare on the heinousosity of the insane Republi/Fascists and their Dimbulbed Fat Hitler of a standard bearer.

Did I miss anything good? No, not so much. The diseased, diarrheal shit hurricane that is the Executive-time branch and Republi/Fascist led Senate continues its democracy shredding antics. Nothing to see here – move along, move along.

Coating my still delicate and exhausted tête (almost losing an important body part wears me clean out – HEY, you’d be a little beat too!) in Stainless Steel, I waded into Shower Cap’s latest news round up. I’m horrified of course but ever so grateful to get my summary of the hellish doings with a giant side of wit.

Matt Wuerker

A snippet:

Cementing his status as the Wayne Gretzky of Losing in Court, Hairplug Himmler’s latest attempt to get Congressional Democrats’ emoluments clause lawsuit thrown out failed so badly he probably thought he was asking Salma Hayek out again. The ruling comes just in time, since we learned that seven different foreign governments have been leasing property in one of his hideous condo towers, something something Jimmy Carter’s peanut farm.

Go read the whole column – it’s so worth it.

And then, feeling all brave and shit, I read a few other things.

Remember how Florida citizens voted to re-enfranchise felons (except those convicted of murder or felony sexual offenses) who had served their time? Yeah well, the Republi/Facists in Florida’s government have said no/nuh-uh, we don’t give a damn what the people we were elected to serve want. We SO know that we’ll be lose our phoney baloney jobs if all those folks are allowed to vote. We can’t have that so we’re stackin’ the deck. 

Rob Rogers

 Florida’s not the only state working hard to keep the criminals in government.

Tennessee Gov. Bill Lee signed a bill on Thursday that could curtail voter registration drives by imposing fines of up to $10,000 on groups that submit incomplete registration forms, even though they’re required by state law to hand in any registration forms they collect. (source)

And in Texas:

“SB 9 would sharply escalate the state’s ongoing campaign of voter suppression,” voting rights groups wrote to state lawmakers, “by spreading fear that people may be thrown in jail for honest mistakes while trying to vote.” Nearly 10,000 voters had their ballots rejected in 2018 in the state’s five largest counties for reasons like voting in the wrong precinct; now that could subject them to criminal prosecution. (source)

Mike Luckovich

But there’s a bit of good news from Ohio of all places:

A federal court on Friday tossed out Ohio’s congressional map, ruling that Republican state lawmakers had carved up the state to give themselves an illegal partisan advantage and to dilute Democrats’ votes in a way that predetermined the outcome of elections. (source)

Now I feel sufficiently caught up on the last two weeks here in the land that used to aspire to democracy versus authoritarian regime-hoodedness. I’m up to date and, naturally, now angry and sad. Can we move to Iceland now? Just until this shit’s in the rear view mirror, K?

Also, now that my corneal ulcer’s history, can I please get back in the pool? Can I get back to swimming my meditative laps now please, please, OH PUH-LEESE!


Implausible Reality Day

When we last left our hero (*cough* ME) I was headed into MEEI yet again – this time for a once over by a big time cornea specialist (who I’d not seen before).

I’d been told that she could determine whether I would be a candidate for the PROSE lens or not. Now then, since she’s a MEEI cornea specialist and NOT a BostonSight doc, I figured, best I’d get would be a very educated guess as to whether the PROSE people would take me on or not.

Cool but I’d be nervous until I got the final word from BostonSight. If Doc Jacobs said “yeah, you’ll qualify” I’d cancel Monday’s eye shutting surgery and hope like all fucking hell that BS agreed with the good Doc’s assessment. If not, I could always reschedule.

I got this fabola idea (if I do say so myself) whilst waiting for the doc to hit the stage. What about, instead of static images on the eyepatch that I’d wear when one-eyed, there were moving images – swirling fractals, shifting pics from space or even Coyote/Roadrunner snippets? Would that not be WAY fucking fun?! Yes, it SO would.

In this age, when a full length movie can be viewed on a cell phone’s teeny tiny screen, couldn’t a lightweight monitor be set up on the outside of my eyepatch? Ya know, with WiFi I could even live-stream NASA’s views of Earth from space from my eyepatch.

The possibilities for coolness are totes endless!

Meanwhile the doc entered the exam room stage left. I liked her immediately. She was clearly smart as all hell but also came off as a bit of an absent minded professor. NOT all slick d and I’m-doing-you-a-favor-by-squeezing-you-into-my-très-busy-schedge. She read all the notes on my current disaster-thon while I told her that my dream was to duck the eye shutting op and go straight to the PROSE lens-age. I’d just, in the waiting room, sent off all my paperwork to BostonSight and was afraid I wouldn’t be a candidate.

As it turns out, Doc Jacobs used to work at BostonSight! She checked out my old orb, said I was def a candidate and then CALLED BS to get me in the door. She even pulled strings to bump me up to a sooner spot on line.

Also, that nasty-ass infection? Gone now! I no longer have to take drops. That means the swelling will go down now because, waddaya know, those mondo necessary antibiotic drops were causing that shit!

And no eye closing surgery on Monday!!!

Jesus, I came outta yesterday’s appointment feeling like I was living a too neat and tidy, happy Hollywood ending.

I’ll take it!

via GIPHY

MedAHT

I’m heading into MEEI AGAIN this morning. Today’s appointment is with a cornea specialist who will assess my healing process AND be able to tell me if I’m a likely candidate for one of the fancy, schmancy PROSE lenses (HOPE!).

Meanwhile, I’m filling out a huge-ass form for BostonSight and had all my eyeball records sent over to them. After they review, they’ll tell me whether I qualify. Double-plus fucking HOPE!

If today’s cornea doc says I’m a likely candidate, Imma err on the side of HOPE and cancel Monday’s scheduled eye-closing surgery. (I can’t have the surgery if I’m getting the lens – it’s one or t'other)

So, away I go. Here’s some of the art I’ve been treated to in MEEI and MGH this week.

Yur welcome.

Well, THAT was interesting

On Tuesday I saw my awesome neurologist, Doc Plotkin. I naively thought I’d sorta, kinda have a break from the eye woes as this appointment was regarding my latest spine MRI.

Nope. Ya see, Doc P’s a full service Neurofibromatosis Type Two minder. My eye difficulties came as a result of the surgeries needed for dealing with that motley collection of neuromas and meningiomas (AKA tumors) I’ve harbored over the years. The eyes are related to the neuro shit so, yeah, he’s tuned in.

This is a good thing. Duh.
He strongly suggested that i seriously look into getting a PROSE lens which would obviate further surgery AND the loss of my damn eye. What’s a PROSE lens? Prosthetic Replacement of the Ocular Surface Ecosystem – it looks like a BIG contact lens.

The goals of BostonSight PROSE treatment are to:

• Reduce symptoms and support healing by restoring a healthy ocular surface environment
• Improve blurry vision by masking surface corneal irregularities and transmitting a sharp image to the back of the eye
• Prevent damage by protecting the cornea against the environment and eyelids

So, this could be WAY great.

With this info in hand yesterday, I went to my scheduled appointment with the eye surgeon. My understanding was that I needed a quickie surgery to close up the eyelid a little so as to protect my cornea.

I’ve had this done before. WHY do I need it done again? Skin is plastic. As time passes, it stretches. It sags. Shit doesn’t stay in the same place, particularly with the goddamned vicissitudes of aging.

In any case, the surgeon said he could do it THAT VERY DAY which instilled  a bit of panic (I require a couple days of mental prep, time to get all steely and shit, before a scalpel wielding cutter comes at me. Ya know?). AND then, he let me know that he’d have to close up my eye a LOT more than he’d done previously.

I asked him to draw me a pic of what he meant. Well shit, the orb would be all but closed. PANIC-CITY! He allowed that the process IS reversible. I could have my eye back in full action once the cornea had healed.

OK, fine but will this get in the way of me being kitted out with the PROSE lens?

Oh, he thanked me for reminding him of that. Yes, what he proposed WOULD make the PROSE impossible.

So, the appointment ended without surgery…FOR NOW. I’ll see a cornea doc on Friday who will be able to tell me whether I’m a candidate for the fancy, special lens or not. IF not, I’ll have eye closing surgery on Monday.

Here’s the other thing I need. Time to plan AND collect an interesting collection of eye patches. Ya know, in addition to the standard pirate patch, I’ll need some groovy patterned patches, cool colors, one that’ll make me look Borg-esque OR Terminator-ish and, OF COURSE, statement patches for when I go to protests (FUCK TRUMP and the whole enabling Republi/Fascist party – would that fit on an eye patch, ya think?).

If I’m gonna be, essentially, one eyed for some long stretch of time, I TOTES need time to get all fashion forward with this shit.

Ya know?

Outta Control

There are moments in life when it is all turned inside out – what is real becomes unreal, what is unreal becomes tangible, and all your levelheaded efforts to keep a tight ontological control are rendered silly and indulgent.
~ Aleksandar Hemon, The Lazarus Project

That’s just how I’m feeling, with this eye bullshit. My wonk-ass skin suit, which has already banjaxed my sound system, is now threatening my vision. I’m afraid.

Fear cuts deeper than swords.
~ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

My deepest fear right now, is that I’ll lose my sight. My mother, my Nf2 coping template, lost hers. She wasn’t stone blind but she didn’t have much. Frankly, I’m not sure how much she could see. I do know that reading became impossible. Yes, this was on top of being deaf. And, yes, this panics the shit outta me.

Do one thing every day that scares you.
~ Eleanor Roosevelt 

I do. I get out of bed.
It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he'll look for his own answers.
~ Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear

What’s left when sound and vision are gone?

Touch. Clay, fiber, the feel of water. What else?

I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.
~ Nelson Mandela

I’ll never vanquish my fears but I will get up out of bed, stand up, move forward and fight. I’ll put one foot in front of the other, jump through the hoops, walk the walk, do what I gotta do.

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
~ James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

He was talking about something else but this resonates. In scary times I find myself preoccupied, thinking overmuch about people who’ve done me dirt. I realize that anger and fear, not hatred, fuel this illusion that I can control my fate. Where there’s rage there’s hope?

I believe I’m just adding an unnecessary, extra layer of angst to this tall cake of dread.

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.
~ Helen Keller

Well, ya know, SHE would know!

Painting is a blind man's profession. He paints not what he sees, but what he feels, what he tells himself about what he has seen.
~ Pablo Picasso

Huh. Interesting.

I know a blind potter when I was in college. There IS art after blindness just as there’s music after deafness.

I asked Ten if he’d go to percussion concerts with me. Would he go to places with impossibly loud music with me. I need to know – can I feel the beat? So far, in my limited experiences as a deaf concert goer, results are uneven. Sometimes I can and sometimes I can’t. I need more, varied input.

He said yes.

Have I mentioned that I’m in love? BIG time.

Bored Now

Looka here, I am ALL kinds of bored with this shit now. I spent much of yesterday waiting around to see the Doc in MEEI's ER (despite having an appointment SCHEDULED). I'm also wickedly irritated and shit...could ya tell?

The good news: my little corneal ulcer’s getting better. It’s healing just dandy.
The bad news: I’m still gonna need more surgery.
The molto aggravating bit: my eye’s still horror-show swollen. I didn’t use the tape yesterday so MAYBE I’m allergic to one of the THREE damn antibiotics I’m sticking into that poor sad orb.

Make no mistake, I SO want to preserve the sight in this eye (the other one too!) so I'll jump through all the hoops I need to. This IS beyond annoying and frustrating though. 

Decidedly unattractive too.

I’ve got a new man, fer fuck’s sake! I do NOT wanna be looking like the monster from the deep (who's TOTALLY known for her puffy eyes) around him. Ya know, I wanna save that look for after we’ve been together a few years and he’s all perma-seduced by my other, so-subtle-they’re-easy-to-miss charms.

I’M NOT ASKING THE UNIVERSE FOR MUCH HERE!!!

OK, mebbe I am. Meantime, I’m imaging possible eye replacements.

Just FYI

Woke up with a MONDO swollen left eye (No, you do NOT get to see the purple/red monstrosity that my face has become. Consider yurselves lucky, K?). Christ this bloody orb’s not givin’ me any goddamn peace. I put a bag of frozen peas on the sucker and the swelling’s starting to go down. Possibly the vile culprit is the damn tape the good Doc just gave me to make sure my eye stays closed all night – the left one’s a party animal and prefers to rock out til all hours.

HOW could I be allergic to TAPE of all damn things? It's the only thing new in the mix though so I'm leaning toward tape villainy.

I’m back to MEEI later this morning so I’ll get help and other crap then (HOPE!).

I only mention it but this is annoying as ALL BLOODY HELL. You prolly figured as much, eh?

Nurse Coco’s been very helpful and caring. As uszh. This despite the fact that she's still adjusting to her new housemate, Ten. In the morning Coco climbs atop Mount Donna, accepts her pats/her due, and then turns to stare down at Ten’s sleeping form. I can well imagine what she’s thinking. It’s either:

• who is this dude and WHY is he not patting me? Doesn' he know the house rules? School him, will ya?

OR

• What? He’s still here? I thought we scared him off with all your stupid health probs. No?

No. Thankfully!
Apart from the monster eye, this morning’s dawn was serene, tranquil, calm and just abso-beauteous. All in all it's a wonderama morning. TAB and Rocco are in big beautiful bloom. The birds'll have to be patient for fruit to pop out. That'll take another year or three.

The bats, (once we get em) will have to wait too. Ten and I are gonna put up a couple houses for the furry flying creatures of the night. I want a herd of those babies. Warum, you ask?

• They eat insects – lots of 'em! I'm, generally, not a bug fan. //shudder//
• Bat poop is rich in nitrogen, potassium, and phosphate which is GREAT fertilizer for the garden (which Jen, Ten and Oni will plant. Me? I paint. OK!)
• In the tropics, which we aren’t, they disperse seeds and pollinate flowers – just like the birds and bees!

AND, did ya know:

Vampire bats have a special chemical in their saliva that keeps blood from clotting. This allows them to easily drink blood from cows and pigs. Scientists studied this chemical and used it to develop medicine that helps humans that suffer from blood clots and strokes. (source)

And they’re cute as hell too. Oh yes they SO are!

All in all, not a bad start to the week.

Oh Look!

It's Sunday and I don't need to be anywhere today. YEA!

Being sick, just in case you missed the bulletin, is goddamned exhausting. Lemme me rephrase that – being in pain is spectacularly enervating. It wears me right, the fuck, out.

Jen and I went to MEEI for my follow up appointment with Doc Merchant. What I have, just FYI, is a corneal ulcer, a serious bit of no damn fun whatsofuckingever. The good medic says it’s getting better/healing though. BETTER be – this hurts like hell and the antibiotics are flaming that shit right up too.

Good news for Ten – he didn’t need to wake every hour on the hour last night to wake me up so’s I could put in the motherfucking drops. Ya know, I wonder if Ten’s mebbe questioning the wisdom of his decision to move 3,000+ miles away from his home to be with yurs truly – the fucking cranky-ass quasi invalid. Hell, I’d be.

JAYZUSSSSS, this was awesome.
Ten’s a Kitchen God of the highest order!

He says no. Emphatically too and then he went into the kitchen and whipped up a veggie quiche with vegan chorizo sausage for brekkie.

Honest ta Bast, I have no bloody clue how/why I ended up with two such amazing, giving, wonderful life partners WHO COOK – Tab and now Ten. I'm so astoundingly lucky!

Which reminds me of a certain other molto significant person in my life. I had a dream about Kevin Scott last night. He was alive, reasonably well and moving from D.C. to Philadelphia. I was MEGA psyched. I could zip down there via Amtrak on the regular. We’d have SO much fun!

And then, still in Dream World, I stumbled over reality. But, but, I said to me sleeping self, Kevin’s dead. He’s been gone for 28 years now. So much for that happy dream.

Also too, SONG CUE!

Holly Sears Tea Bowl

Meanwhile here on the home-front we’re finally having a sunny day. Thank the little baby Bast for that. Endless grey, rainy days are mondo tedious and depressing, n'est-ce pas and shit? If I had a shred of energy left in me after this MGH/MEEI intensive week, I’d hit the gym. I’ve not darkened the Y’s door since Monday and that’s NAY good. Exercise keeps the Monster of Crankitude at bay. Possibly I’ll manage a little beach walk – might keep the Grouch Demon at bay.

For all of you who are not suffering from the slings and arrows of outrageously stupid health, go to Brookline Village and check out the Feet of Clay Spring Show and Sale. As uszh, the joint’s owner Holly Sears has some brill work up. So does Jane Simon.

It’s a good day to look at fun, cool art (isn’t every day though?) so check ‘em out.

Holly Sears Platter

Jane Simon Vase

If it’s not one thing it’s anotha

I thought I had another bloody burst vessel in my goddamn wonky left eye but then it started to ache. Burst vessels aren’t supposed to hurt. Dammit.

Hoping to see my awesome cornea specialist, Doctor Dana, I went into Mass Eye and Ear Infirmary. Sadly, he’s away for a coupla weeks but I DID get to see one of his highly regarded buds, Doc Ong Tone.

Turns out, I have a goddamned, motherfucking, asshole infection which, naturally, reignites my fear of losing the sight in this eye. Dammit. Bottom line here is that I need more surgery. I swear, with the amount of time I spend in the OR, you’d think I was addicted to scalpels or something.

More immediately, I’m on not one but two different antibiotic drops. Not only do they need to be administered EVERY single blasted hour (THROUGHOUT LAST NIGHT) but the MEEI pharmacy does NOT take insurance for some fucked up reason. This shit cost me 70 buckos and, as if that wasn't enough, the drops hurt! Yes, that’s normal. //grumble, grumble. grumble//

FYI, this blows. I wanna DQ this fucked up orb ‘o’ mine and install a nice deep purple cat's eye marble. Maybe a green one? Some swirly art glass would be pretty cool. How ‘bout an abstract? Something in a pointillist vein? I'm leaning towards the leafy hues but, damn, that purple one really speaks to me. Mebbe I could have a few different ones?

Which one strikes your fancy?

No, no, I’m gonna keep jumping through these hoops (and kvetching about it) – I’m determined to keep this damn eye.

YOU CAN’T QUIT ME, MUTHAFUCKA!

Ten and Jen were wonderfully supportive and helpful to say the very goddamn least. They’re heroes, fer fuck’s sake.

SONG CUE!