Tuesday, February 28, 2006

I saw some stats today that said that a majority of bloggers fit the profile of females from North America, and that on average blogs are abandoned after four months. I felt a wee bit smug, seeing as PS has been in effect for over 18 months now. Nevertheless I also felt a momentary twinge of guilt for not having posted for the past two weeks. The twinge lasted just long enough to get shot down like a Vice Presidential companion, though, since it's been a jam-packed two weeks. More on that later.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

"Deny the passport, throw it away and make a great decision that you will not leave this shore until and unless you have liberated all the human beings." -- Buddha

I came across the above quote a few days ago, and started to wonder if maybe it's a sign from Higher Powers that it's time to quit my job.

Then I remember that my job is sending me to an English-speaking island paradise this summer, to make up for the two years they had me working in a glorified snowdrift with a boss who was clearly the mutant love-child of a Dilbert cartoon and a Stephen King novel.

So whom do I trust? Buddha or the bureaucracy?

Sunday, February 05, 2006

January was a very busy month (as anyone reviewing the dates of actual postings can see...). Going back to work was only half of it. Between Gigi and me, we spent an inordinate amount of time in doctors' offices. My employer, being steeped in the business of sending ailing travelers back home - often at ridiculous expense due to a lack of insurance - is very careful about health screenings before sending people overseas. This is good, because it lets me get a really thorough checkup every few years. On the other hand, it can be a pain because my whacked-out endocrine system often raises a few hurdles.
Since my thyroid gland - already as dysfunctional as a Hollywood household - has yet to level out since Gigi's birth, my doctor finally decided that between the blood counts and the nodules it was time for an ultrasound. The results of the ultrasound would indicate whether a needle biopsy was required. I didn't like the sound of that. "Biopsy" and "needle" are words that I don't like to hear individually. Put them together and they're not much improved. But we'll burn that bridge when we get to it; the first step was the ultrasound.
The technician was amused to hear me say that this was my first u/s from the waist up, though I doubted that I'd do any better figuring out what was on the screen. Many times my OB pointed to the screen and said, "See that?" when we previewed Bizzleburp/Gigi, and I couldn't tell which end I was supposed to be looking at. So this technician didn't bother with the detailed, guided tour, just, "here's the left side...here's the right side..." My favorite comment from her? "Wow, your thyroid gland isn't just multinodular. It looks like cottage cheese."
Great, I thought, so it matches my butt. Too bad I can't see either one of them.
But the good news is that a biopsy is not warranted. The doc is just going to adjust my synthetic hormone dosage *again* and we'll test my blood again in another few weeks. If I'm very lucky, we'll have found the magic number and my metabolism will actually get out of first gear.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

I finally figured out what it is about the song "The Wheels on the Bus" that bugs me so much. It's the verse that goes, "The driver on the bus says 'move on back!'" that has always gotten under my skin. The passing of Rosa Parks, I think, threw it into sharp relief for me.
Look, I'm not so steeped in my liberal arts education that I'm going to interpret the entire song as an homage to Jim Crow and denounce it as a tool of the white patriarchy indoctrinating young children with institutional blah blah blah. It's just that I finally feel like I have a reason - other than the fact that the tune makes me want to puncture my eardrums with an icepick - to dislike that song.
And because God has a sense of humor, naturally, my daughter got a toy school bus for Christmas, with little shape-sorting figures and interactive sound features. And it is one of her **favorite** toys **ever**. She likes nothing more than to press the little orange button where the "driver" sits, which makes her bus light up playing TWOTBGRAR. And she lights up right along with it, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands with the music.
When she's a little older and starts singing, I'm going to teach her a variation: "The old karmic wheel goes round and round, round and round, round and round..."
Ave atque vale to a truly uncommon woman.