Hallucinations

Kitty seems to have lost her fuzzy little mind. She’s been acting really strange lately; staring at the walls as if there are bugs crawling on them; stalking invisible foes across the carpet; howling in the middle of the night. Stuff like that.

I went to bed last night with a book and Misty took her usually spot next to me on the bed. Kitty started caterwauling in the darkness of the living room. Misty perked up her ears and looked at me with wide eyes as if to say, “What the hell is she carrying on about?”, but I had no answer for her.

This morning, Kitty was sniffing the rug, stalking the invisible foe again, while hubby and I stood not two feet away from her discussing her actions; she didn’t seem to notice we were in the room with her. I called her name several times and she ignored me; her ears didn’t even turn toward the sound of my voice. A few minutes later, she flopped on her side looking blissfully happy, smiling up at us as if nothing unusual had occurred.

I’ve been visiting my friend Grace a lot since her accident, and she occasionally gives her cats catnip. Could I be dragging it home on my shoes and setting off Kitty’s hallucinogenic episodes? The episodes do seem to be worse since I’ve been spending more time at Grace’s house.

Grace also has several large dogs and the youngest dog likes to sit at my feet. I always change my clothing after spending the afternoon at her house because of the dog hair, but I don’t change my sneakers. Could the smell of dog on my shoes be setting Kitty off?

Whether I’m making my cat crazy or vice versa, one thing is clear: there’s never a dull moment.

In the Blink of an Eye

Life can change in the blink of an eye; a debilitating illness, the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, the destruction caused by a natural disaster. This is a life lesson that I have experienced numerous times, and recently I witnessed a friend’s life fall victim to chance.

On September 2nd, a sunny Saturday afternoon, my friend (let's call her Grace) was driving down the road, heading home after running a few errands. She was driving north in the left-most lane when suddenly a car cuts across three lanes of traffic, east to west. Unable to complete the journey west and enter the southbound lanes of traffic, the car comes to a halt. Grace t-bones the offending vehicle and blinding pain screams through her body. Police and EMT arrive within minutes, but when you’re in that kind of pain even a few minutes is too long. My friend is rushed to a local hospital where she is x-rayed, poked and prodded for several hours; the crying finally ends in a drug induced haze.

Grace is told she has a shattered tib-fib bone; the place where the shin turns into the ankle is now a mass of broken bits of bone. She is transferred to another hospital where she receives an external fixator to hold the larger pieces of bone in place until the swelling goes down enough for the orthopedic surgeon to reconnect bone fragments with metal plates and screws. This surgery was completed 11 days after the accident at yet another hospital. Racked with pain and hospitalized, Grace went from being a vibrant, busy woman with a full-time job and a part-time college schedule to a helpless patient, relying upon nurses, friends and relatives for nearly everything. The driver who caused the accident walked out of the hospital that same day. Fourteen days, three hospitals, two surgeries, three plates and 12 screws later, Grace was finally discharged. She is hoping to walk again next spring.

Because of the Employment-at-Will doctrine, Grace’s employer is not required to hold her position for her while she recuperates. She may lose her job and health insurance at any time and it will take several months for her to receive money from the at-fault driver’s insurance company to cover medical costs and lost wages. When she is finally able to walk and drive again, she will need to buy another car, probably find another job, and register for classes at least six months behind schedule. Right now, she is unable to care for herself, her home and her pets: this accident has affected nearly every aspect of her life.

If Grace hadn’t slammed on the break during her accident, she may not have sustained such a harsh injury. If she hadn’t slowed down before the crash, the impact may have killed the other driver. If she had made one more stop before heading home, Grace may have taken another route and arrived home safely. If, if, if.

There are many events in life we wish we could un-do. Unfortunately, that’s not the way life works.

Be careful out there.

Oh, My Aching Back

My back hurts. I had surgery nine years ago for an L5/S1 radiculopathy with lumbar disc herniation, and I’ve been living with some level of pain ever since. Some days it is a screaming, burning, stabbing pain, but most of the time it’s like a bad headache located in the vicinity of my tail bone and lower back. Far too often, the pain from the sciatic nerve shoots down into my left butt cheek and continues into the top of my thigh; those are the days when I limp around and try not to bend.

The surgeon said I developed post-surgical scar tissue in my back which is causing the continued irritation of the sciatic nerve. Since cutting into me is what caused the scar tissue, cutting into me again to remove the scar tissue wasn’t a good. He tried injections of various steroids to reduce the scar tissue, but I still have pain.

I take a prescription anti-inflammatory and a medication to deaden the nerve pain, but I still limp around pretty often. I’ve been offered narcotic pain medication, but I figure I’ll wait until I’m older and don’t care that I’m too buzzed on pain meds to think straight or drive a car. I see an OxyContin addiction in my future.

I’ve been told that exercise to increase my core muscle strength will reduce my pain, but so far that hasn’t worked out too well. Trainers and physical therapists usually don’t believe me when I tell them that they are pushing me too hard. Afterwards, when I’m in so much pain I can barely get out of bed for three days, they realize that I wasn’t kidding; that’s when they panic and drop me as a client. So mostly I do light exercises on my own with cardio thrown in for good measure. Weight loss would probably help my pain level, but I enjoy eating way too much to give up food. I figure I’ll be thin and pain-free when I’m dead.

Anyway, my back really hurts today, but things could be worse. Things could always be worse.

I think I’ll go lie down.

Downloaders Beware!

Hubby downloads TV shows from file-sharing sites so we don’t have to watch commercials. He also downloads pay-TV programs from premium channels we don’t subscribe to, like HBO. We compare it to asking a friend to tape a show for us…the friend with a pay channel is simply sharing a recording with us. It’s borrowing from a friend, not stealing; so we thought. Apparently HBO disagrees.

About a month ago, hubby downloaded the HBO program “Lucky Louie” from mini-nova. Yesterday our internet service went down, so he called the cable company to report the problem. The tech told him that our service had been shut off because of a complaint from HBO…they found out that he had been downloading shows through mini-nova and they consider that theft of service.

How did HBO find out? Apparently they set up a sting; registering a computer with the mini-nova site, sharing the show and recording the IP addresses of the computers who were downloading it. They then contacted the ISPs and had the accounts shut down. Hubby was unlucky enough to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The Cox Cable tech advised him that they have a “three strikes and your out” policy; three complaints and they shut off your internet service permanently.

I don’t know if any other file-sharing services are being monitored for this type of “theft”, but hubby won’t be downloading any more HBO programs. I don’t think we’ll subscribe to the channel, but (since I need home internet service) we’ll have to find a low-tech way of getting their programs.

Downloaders beware! Big brother is watching and he’s pissed.

Tale of Woe: Hijacked by Faulty Technology

Yesterday I had a long list of errands to run and a dead battery in my car. It turns out that the alarm system malfunctioned and drained the 6-month old battery, so instead of running errands I spent the day banging my head against a wall…or at least that’s what it felt like.

After trying to disarm the system and open my car door with my key-fob remote (and the spare) I opened my door the old-fashioned way…I used the key! This would normally start the horn honking and the lights flashing, but nothing happened. Since the alarm system is the kill-switch variety, I was unable to start my car. I called the alarm company and they walked me through the steps to disarm the system and put it in “valet mode” which should have allowed me to start my car. After following their directions several times, my car battery was completely dead. They dispatched a technician, who was supposed to jump start my battery and repair the alarm system. Key words: supposed to.

The technician arrived an hour late, so I had been stewing for over two hours at this point. Then he said he didn’t feel comfortable using his car to jump start mine. (Wimp!) He offered to come back later that day after the auto club took care of my battery problem.

So, I called the auto club. I know from previous experience that they respond at a snail’s pace, so I also called the local police non-emergency line to have a Motorist Assist volunteer sent to my location. I figured whoever showed up first would have my undying gratitude and the other one could take a flying leap. No big surprise when the guy who wasn’t getting paid to show up showed up first and cheerfully took care of my needs…ahem, my car battery needs.

After the jump start, I drove to a nearby Chevy dealer and they checked the battery for signs of physical damage, which there were none, and proclaimed the battery sound and fully charged.

Then I called the alarm company to let them know I was ready for the technician to return and examine the faulty alarm system. Oh, so sorry, but he has installations scheduled for the rest of the afternoon and can’t come back until tomorrow. I hate when people tell you (to your face) they’re going to do something and then they make excuses over the phone. If I believed in hell I would say there was a special area reserved for people such as these; but I don’t. Still it’s a nice day-dream.

Luckily the tech showed up this morning on time, so I didn’t have to hunt him down like a dog and shoot him.

Since I had the whole night to toss and turn and stew over the alarm issue, I decided to have the damn thing removed. I’ve had car alarms before and have never had even a hint of a problem with those systems. It figures the most expensive alarm I’ve ever had would be the one to malfunction. But it is gone from my sight now, never to return again. Plus I get to shop for a new alarm system. (Oooh, shopping!)

Since I love my car I took it to the dealer to have the electrical system checked. I don’t want my baby breaking down because some Neanderthal alarm tech was monkeying around with the wiring. The service advisor didn’t know if he could have the work completed by closing, so they offered me a ride home in the courtesy shuttle.

Invariably, the courtesy shuttle driver is an old man around 70 years of age; the age when he should be thinking about turning in his license instead of earning a living by driving around all day long. This has been a constant in my experience, and today was no exception. Sitting in the passenger seat, I found myself offering up a silent prayer, “Please God, let me get home in one piece”: then I remembered that I am an atheist. Damn, I must have been really scared to forget something important like that! Old habits die hard. Obviously I made it home in one piece, having lived to tell the tale with my atheism in tact (thank you very much).

I hate having my life hijacked by faulty technology, but it could have been worse. (It can always be worse.) I’ll have my car back tomorrow and will finally be able to get to Target. Yippee!

Post-Birthday Rant

My birthday is September 11th. For thirty-four years it was a perfectly good day to have a celebration: fall is just around the corner, the weather is usually nice and there are no holidays on the calendar to conflict with my special day. And then the freakin’ terrorists went and hijacked planes, crashed into buildings, and killed thousands. All on my thirty-fifth birthday. Those bastards.

For the rest of my days, my birthday will be a reminder of the horror we witnessed that day. Our country will never be the same, not only because of what the scum-bag terrorists achieved on that day, but also because of the reaction of our government.

Getting on a plane is a massive hassle. Phone conversations can be listened to without warrants. Library and business records can be seized without cause. Physical searches can be forced upon citizens who can also be held and questioned indefinitely without being charged with a crime. The rights of the individual are being trampled in the name of public safety, but I don’t feel safe.

On September 11, 2001 I watched and wept with millions of others as the evens unfolded on television. I can only imagine the horror that those present endured. Feature films have been released about the crash of United Flight 93 and the collapse of the Twin Towers, but I will never see them. The images of that day are burned into my brain, and I have no need to see them again.

Every year since that fateful day, I have asked for the same thing for my birthday: a media blackout. I don’t turn on the television or the radio and I don’t go where a TV may be showing the memorial broadcasts of 9/11. I hibernate and remember birthdays of a more innocent time, when I celebrated with my family, when my son was still alive, and when America was still free.

Today is My Birthday

Birthdays are a time for reminiscing about the past and dreaming about the future. Looking back, I wonder, what have I accomplished in 40 years of living? Not much really.

I’ve been married for 21 years, so that’s got to count for something. I had a beautiful child and, although I’m left with the pain of his loss, I wouldn’t trade a minute of the time I spent raising and loving him for all the money in the world. Over the years I’ve laughed and cried, loved and lost.

I’ve moved nearly ten thousand miles over the years and lived in at least a dozen different homes. I’ve seen a lot of places; I’ve made a few life-long friends and lost touch with others. I’ve had plenty of jobs and taken a few classes. I’ve vacationed in some interesting (but not very exotic) places. I’ve checked off a number of experiences from my “things to-do before I die” list and had several adventures that weren’t even on my list.

What is there to look forward to? Simple pleasures, quiet nights at home curled up on the couch with hubby, a few more vacations and maybe some unexpected possibilities. I was looking forward to being a grandmother someday, but that is not to be.

I’m neither rich nor famous, but those are things I never longed for. My life has been average in most respects and maybe the best has already come and gone. Mainly what I want now is for the good days to out-number the bad.

Perhaps forty is a meaningless milestone but I feel a level of self-acceptance that I lacked when I was younger. I may not be at peace with all of my circumstances and shortcomings, but I am more accepting of my flaws than I was five or ten years ago.

Happy Birthday to me.

Die Hard the Hunter

Steve Irwin died yesterday while filming an underwater documentary. A lot of things have been said about his death in the last 24 hours, including some unkind words from his critics. But now is not the time to criticize his methods.

The world mourns his untimely death. He was a husband, a father, a son, and an icon. He will be missed.

Night Out

Last Saturday, hubby and I went to the Tempe Improv to see Lisa Lampanelli. For those of you unfamiliar with her, she is a foul-mouthed broad…and freakin’ hilarious! Lisa is an insult comic and she spreads the insults around to every race, creed, color and sex. I laughed so hard, my jaw hurt.

We arrived at the Improv and waited in a short line to check in for the show. Staff members were checking ID for a group of guests in front of us and warning them that Lisa’s show is not for the easily offended. They looked confused....apparently they knew very little about her act and didn’t know that she would be using every curse word and derogatory racial comment known to man. After a brief consultation they all decided to be brave and see the show.

Hubby and I stepped up to the podium, ID in hand, and proceeded to receive the standard warning about being offended. After assuring them that we wouldn’t have a problem with anything Lisa might say we were escorted to the second row of café table seating. We were happy with our position because it allowed us to be up close and yet not too close. Shortly after we were seated, the couple at the table in front of us asked to be moved to a table further away. The next couple to be seated at that table was picked on during the show, so I guess the first couple knew what they were doing!

Hubby and I chatted and did some people watching, we had a few drinks and enjoyed our dinner. After the waiter cleared our table we had about 30 minutes to kill before the show. We sat grinning at each other for a few seconds because we realized that we had just run out of small talk. Hey, there’s only so much chit-chat to go around! I suppose this is why other couples travel in packs. When you run out of things to say to your spouse there are spare people nearby to talk to. We need to get some people!

Lisa’s comedy set was well received and a good time was had by all. Everyone was picked on equally and that’s the way it should be. If you can’t laugh at yourself stay home…that way the rest of us can have a good time.

Visit Lisa’s website.