The Hell That is Frozen Shoulder

I have Frozen Shoulder. Again. I had a it a few years ago, before I started blogging. Never heard of it? Neither had I. It's officially called Adhesive Capsulitis. See, your tissues freak the hell out and form bands of tight, inflamed adhesions throughout the capsule surrounding your glenohumeral joint. This scarred and inflamed capsule constricts the joint, locking it into its own private hell. Range of motion is severely restricted, pain is basically comparable to having your shin broken with an axe, and duration can range from a few months to two years or more.

This shit hurts, people. It has three stages:

• FREEZING: this is when you're basically wracked in pain. All the fucking time. Two kinds of pain, actually: chronic pain that is worse at night, and acute just-kill-me-now pain when you accidentally move past your ever-decreasing range of motion. This is where I am now.
• FROZEN: this is when the pain supposedly starts to fade, but the capsule has basically locked your arm into a very limited range. Good luck wiping your ass. This is the time to introduce excruciating physical therapy, in order to try and coax your shoulder into moving again.
• THAWING: this is where your motion is supposed to gradually come back. It's not very common to regain your full range of motion. The agonizing PT is continued through this phase.

So yeah, I had this three or four years back. Took over a year and a half to run its course. I remember when I was diagnosed. I thought Frozen Shoulder sounded stupid. Like some wimp-ass diagnosis for big crybabies or hypochondriacs. Adhesive Capsulitis sounded better, but still. Didn't sound like a "real" condition, like torn rotator cuff, or bone spur, or something badass like that. I soon found out different.

Frozen Shoulder is not for pussies, people.

Put it this way; I had three babies with no drugs. Two of the offspring were just under nine pounds, one was just over nine pounds. No drugs. I made it through shin splints in basic training with only Ben-Gay for relief. Hell, I made it through basic training, period.  I had two wisdom teeth pulled with only local anesthetic. I can do pain. I'm a woman. But dealing with that Frozen Shoulder wore me down. It was rough.

And it's back.


The other night my shoulder suddenly seized up in a cramp. (This would be the aforementioned "acute pain".) I screamed like a girl and cried. Literally. Screamed and cried. Male Offspring was about to take me to the emergency room. Of course, he probably just wanted to drive, but still. He gave me what he called hug therapy afterward. This is from a teenage boy, folks. If I had to deal with that pain for the length of a labor ... I couldn't do it. I'd be screaming for the drugs in five minutes.

When my shoulder started hurting a few months back, I figured I had wrenched it somehow, you know, with my active lifestyle and all, and didn't think much of it. But as time went on, I had to face the fact that I was having a relapse. According to the literature, relapses are extremely rare. Surprise, I'm one of the lucky few who get to experience that rare treat.

Whee.

This time is worse. Worse because I know what I'm in for. The first time, I could trick myself. You know, say things like, "Maybe I'll be one of those people who heal in a few months." or "The physical therapy will speed up the process." Complete bullshit, but it had a psychological placebo effect. This time, I know what's up. I don't think I can do this again, people. It's like getting scared of childbirth once you're already pregnant. Ain't no getting out of it now - you're in it for the duration.

And my neck's not long enough to gnaw my arm off.

I can't tuck in a shirt, let alone reach in a back pocket. I can't hook my bra. I can't reach across to wash my other shoulder. Shaving under that arm? Please. Deodorant is spotty at best. Taking a coat off sucks.

Washing, drying, and styling my hair mostly one-handed is frustrating, painful, and makes me mad as hell. It also renders me unable to let go of my anger and resentment toward Laura, the heifer who butchered my hair. Every day I hate her more, and I'm not generally into hate, except for George Bush. I'm telling you, every day it festers, and that shit's not healthy. Catching her in an alley while armed with a pair of pinking shears has replaced winning the lottery as my main fantasy.

Showering has become a dreaded ordeal and leaves me feeling like a big crybaby. I've considered going to work in pajamas rather than face getting dressed. And my pajamas aren't pretty, people. Sleep is difficult. That's an understatement. I'm ODing on Valerian and Unisom. I don't want to go on prescription pain relievers or sleep aids, because of the length of time involved with this thing. I mean, popping hard drugs for a couple of weeks or even a month is one thing, but when you're talking upwards of a year, that's something else. Who wants to end up like Rush Limbaugh?

The worst is making involuntary movements - like if you stumble and try to catch yourself, or automatically reach out to catch something, or if something startles you and makes you jump. Agony. There's a fraction of a second between the time you make the movement and the time that agony slams you like a rabid water buffalo on crystal meth, when you realize what you've done. That's the fraction of a second you consider bashing your head on concrete to knock yourself out. But there's not enough time.

To add to the fun, it's my right shoulder. I'm right-handed. I already mouse left-handed at work, so that's okay, but I'm starting to do other things left-handed. I'll be ambidextrous by the time this shit's over.

I've heard of some people who get bilateral FS. That's right, both arms at once! How the hell do those guys wipe their asses? Or drive? Or eat? Or do anything? Holy hell. If that happens, you'd better hope you have a partner or a live-in aide, because I don't see how you'd manage. It sucks having FS as a single person, even with only one arm affected. Basically, I can reach forward, to a certain height, with no problem. Any other direction is a definite no-go. At least I can type. Good thing -- that's pretty important for my job, hello. Like anyone needs a reason to stand out in this economy.

There is a surgical treatment option, but my HMO wouldn't go for it. Likewise the cortisone injections I've heard some patients get. The only treatment my HMO approves is physical therapy. Cheapass bastards. Last time, they did a few initial sessions with me, but basically handed me some papers with instructions and cartoon illustrations and told me to do it on my own at home. Then they collected their copay. But hey, we've got to guard against the evils of "socialized medicine" because US medical care is the best in the world!

Actually, maybe I was better off doing it at home. Check out this poor bastard. I can't even imagine being able to move my arm up that high, so he must be coming along nicely. Pay no attention to the screams. It's all about progress in physical therapy. No pain, no gain.

Brutal. My former drill sergeant is probably a physical therapist now. The one who got kicked out for trainee abuse. Anyway, this whole thing is making me really pissy.

I mean more than usual.

Unnatural Causes for the Rest of Us

Tonight's the night. Regular folks can now catch part 1 of PBS's series, Unnatural Causes tonight at 11pm (PST). If that's too late, it also airs Saturday at 1pm (PST). No HDTV needed! This is the 4-part series addressing health inequities in the US that I wrote about last week. Please consider tuning in, it's supposed to be a fantastic program.

That's the info about tonight, now on to the related rant:

The viewing schedule has been a bit confusing. I was all stoked to watch it last Tuesday, at the convenient time of 7pm. I saw the little "HD" added to the listing, and assumed that meant that if you had HDTV, you'd get to watch a sharper more detailed version of the show, while the untechnologied masses would see the same old dull and fuzzy picture we've always had. (which has always worked just fine for me, by the way.)


That was not the case.

When a cynical friend reported that it was not showing up on our local TV listings, I called PBS to find out why. I was informed that the initial airing was for HDTV customers only. Well, la-dee-fucking-da. So if you were somehow squeaking through life with regular cable or, godforbid, the doomed technology of analog, you were out of luck last week.

I told my local PBS station (I'm talking to you, KCTS Seattle, Channel 9) that I found it quite ironic they would air this fantastic program addressing socio-economic and racial disparities in health, yet make it available only to the wealthier set among us.

What's up, PBS?

I'm thinking that the people who are most affected by these socio-economic and racial inequities do not, in large numbers, enjoy the benefits of HDTV. I know my ass sure as hell can not afford HD anything. Even the picture in my bathroom mirror is framed in old school wood-grain from the 80's. Further, the PoFolks' version airs at 11pm on a weeknight. I'm also thinking that a large majority of people who can not afford HDTV are hard working people who might be too damned tired to tune in at 11pm on a weeknight. How come the HDTV folks got to watch it earlier?



What I'm really thinking though, is this is just one more subtle step in the cable companies' quiet drive to roll high-end costly options into what they call "basic service". See, I view HD as a luxury, not a necessity. Hell, I view most of the hundreds of channels I get in my basic cable package as a luxury and not a necessity. Remember when basic cable really meant basic cable? Limited, but cheap.

Nowadays, "basic" cable runs $50 a month and includes individual channels for bass fishing, QVC shopping, and other worthless crap. I do not fish for bass, nor do I purchase bric-a-brac from QVC. The bass fishing channel is the albatross of my cable package.

Why can't Comcast and their ilk offer custom packages? Custom, of course, meaning customized according to the needs of the consumers who are paying for them. I would be happy as hell to have a package that included PBS and the NFL channel, but did not include QVC or Outdoor Life. That, however, would benefit the customer, not Comcast's bulging pockets, so it will probably never happen. When a customer feels that basic cable means 22 channels as opposed to several hundred, it's harder to justify charging her $50 a month for "basic cable", isn't it?



The NFL, many of you will be pleased to know, created an NFL channel last year. I know, exciting, right? When it first came out, it was available in my basic cable package. Then it disappeared. Turns out my cable company (that would be you scumsucking bastards at Comcast) pulled it from the basic line up and rolled it into a "for pay" sports package. To get it, customers must 1) upgrade from basic cable to the digital package, and 2) also pay for the new sports add-on. Why? Because the NFL channel didn't have a broad enough audience base to support it being offered (for free) in the basic line up.

Excuse me?

The NFL channel does not have the viewer base to support it, but the fishing & hunting channel does? Please. I call bullshit. The NFL fan base in this country is huge. In fact, I'm betting that a goodly portion of the hunting/fishing crowd are included in that fan base. I'm also betting that a much smaller portion of NFL fans are bass fishers. I'm sure I could draw some bastardized Venn diagram to illustrate that, or get Leonard Nimoy to verify that Comcast's position is not logical, but Comcast wouldn't care. Because they know good and goddamned well that there is a huge NFL fan base in this country, which is exactly the point: they stand to make a shitload of money off of that fan base.

Why give your customer something for free if you can convince them to pay for it?



So the HDTV thing? Same deal. Mark my words, Missy, the cable companies will slowly and quietly work it so HD becomes the norm, not a luxury. They will keep pulling stunts like this, and I'm betting there will come a day when a wonderful informative program like tonight's offering will be offered only to the HDTV crowd. Not as in "offered to them this week, and you can watch it next week", but offered only to them, period. You want to see it? Get up off some dollars. Upgrade your cable subscription and purchase the compatible equipment.

Now that's bad enough when it comes to me missing a playoff game (oh yes they did) that was broadcast on the NFL channel because I have not paid for a sports package, but if it gets to the point where informative and educational programming is only available to those who can afford it, that's where I really develop a case of the ass.

So tune in tonight or Saturday afternoon while you can folks; right now this information is still considered "public broadcasting", but next year, who knows.


Photo Credit: Michael Sears

Unnatural Causes

I want to let you all know about a new documentary, Unnatural Causes, that begins airing nationally on PBS tonight at 7pm PST for HDTV viewers, and on April 2nd at 11pm PST for analog/cable viewers. It is a 4-part series addressing health equity in the US.

Unnatural Causes, a four-part series for PBS broadcast and DVD release, will, for the first time on television, sound the alarm about our glaring socio-economic and racial disparities in health—and seek out root causes. But those causes are not what we might expect. While we pour more and more money into drugs, dietary supplements and new medical technologies, it turns out there is much more to our health than bad habits, health care or unlucky genes. The social conditions in which we are born, live and work profoundly affect our well-being and longevity.

The website is part of the impact campaign that the documentary is meant to kick off. It is a fascinating interactive companion site to the series, and is loaded with activities, info, and resources. I was blown away by the wealth of information on this site, and the interesting ways they present it. There are video clips, interactive activities, a quiz, an Action Toolkit, discussion guides, handouts for educators, and more. They even have a panel of experts who will answer questions sent in by John & Jane Q. Public. Really interesting stuff.

The opening 56-minute episode, In Sickness and In Wealth, presents the series’ overarching themes. Each supporting half-hour episode, set in a different ethnic/racial community, provides a deeper exploration of how social conditions affect population health and how some communities are extending their lives by improving them.

Episode descriptions here.

In my area, there will actually be facilitated community discussions at local hospitals after the complete series has aired. Check your local community organizations for similar events.

----------------------------
BROADCAST INFO:
This info is for Pacific Standard Time (PST).
For other time zones, check your local TV listings here at PBS.

• HDTV episodes will air on:
  -- 4 consecutive Thursdays @ 7pm, starting March 27th, or
  -- 4 consecutive Sundays @ 1pm, starting March 30th
  
  
• Analog/Cable episodes will air on:
  -- 4 consecutive Wednesdays @ 11pm, starting April 2nd, or
  -- 4 consecutive Saturdays @ 1pm, starting April 5th

Episode 1: In Sickness and in Wealth
HDTV viewers: 27-Mar-08, 7 pm PST

Analog/Cable viewers: 2-Apr-08, 11pm PST

Channel: PBS (Seattle: KCTS)

Alternate Times, Episode 1:
27-Mar-08, 10pm PST -- PBS (HD only)
30-Mar-08, 1pm PST -- PBS (HD only)

2-Apr-08, 11pm PST -- PBS (Analog/DT)
5-Apr-08, 1pm PST -- PBS (Analog/DT)
---------------------------


I encourage everyone to check this series and the website out.

Puke & Rally!

The son is projectile vomiting.


He woke up seemingly fine this morning, and was skillfully working my nerves about getting his driver's permit (St. Christopher, I'm ready to believe in you.), when I suggested we go pick up cinnamon rolls and coffee cream. Then things took a turn for the worse.

Male Offspring: If I had my permit, I could drive, and you could go in the store.

Me: If you had your permit, you'd be a sophomore. Oh ... you're a freshman. Sorry. Let's go.

MO: I seriously don't want to go to the store.

Me: Cinnamon rolls? Please. Lets go.

MO: [whining] My stomach feels weird.

Me: You look pretty normal to me. No fever, no swelling. Seriously, you're not driving, son.

MO: Landon's driving.

Me: Sophomore.

MO: [walking to the bathroom] Yeah, but he had his permit when he was a ...................BRRRAAAAUUUGGGHHH...........

I made him ginger & chamomile tea to settle his stomach. "Sip it slowly," I said, for the ten-thousandth time since drawing that first placebo of a Lamaze breath two decades ago. "I know," he replied, chugging it. Three minutes later the tea was hurled into the toilet with a force that made me suspect the boy was on performance-enhancing steroids.

He's in the bathtub now, mere inches from the toilet. Four episodes of hurling. Dry hurling. The boy can't even keep water down. The offspring and the dogs all have one thing in common: emergency medical situations or extreme illnesses only occur on weekends or holidays. Anything after 5pm on Friday is fair game. In this instance though, I'm not really worried. Not yet, anyway.

Male Offspring is affectionately known as the 24-hour kid when it comes to getting sick. He'll pop up with some serious projectile vomiting, or bust out with a 103.5* fever until you can practically see green ickiness wafting from his pores. During these times, the boy will be seriously sick. Until the next morning, when he wakes up feeling fairly close to fine. It's like he takes a normal 5-day sickness and condenses it into this fevered, mondo-puke-o-rama deal.

So I'm hoping he'll feel better by tomorrow. If not, it's off to the urgent care weekend clinic. Whee. As for me, I'm still coughing like a smoker in LA, even though I (finally) am feeling better. The cough just will not leave. I'm thinking I need to cast it out like the devil, with some sort of cough exorcism ritual. I'm finally starting to get caught up at work though, and am actually cleaning the house this weekend. Brain and body have just been operating in such a fog this year; I feel like one of those gross hairy moths emerging from a cocoon of illish yukkery. I'm so ready for spring, both within and and without.

In better news, this is the weekend when I can finally take Batman out for a walk. Tomorrow is Day 28 of his captivity. I haven't been able to let him run since he hurt his leg, four excruciatingly long weeks ago. You try keeping 70 pounds of crazy locked up for 4 weeks. 150 pounds, if you count Mason. Honestly though, I have to say he's been a very good dog considering he's been imprisoned for the past month.

Anyway, I've been trying to get around to everyone's cyberspaces and sling some comments around, but the online stuff has been flagging along with everything else. Such is life. Spring is coming though, and hopefully a big ol' batch of healthy for everyone along with it.
--------------------------
UPDATE:
As hoped, the son is no longer feverish, no longer hurling. The 24-hour kid strikes again. He is asking for a taco and burrito dinner tonight. Always a good sign.

Remote Area Medical: on the Homefront

Remember the guy from Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom? Not Marlon Perkins, I mean the guy who actually did all the work, the guy down in the trenches with the alligators and water buffalo, before Steve Irwin even knew what a croc was. That man is Stan Brock. I saw him on 60 Minutes tonight, but he wasn't sporting his trademark khakis.

Mr. Brock heads up a different kind of wild kingdom these days. He founded Remote Area Medical (RAM), a volunteer organization that brings needed medicine and medical care to remote locations around the planet. He takes no salary, and lives at the headquarters in Tennessee, a former elementary school. He pilots the planes himself. The medical personnel, all volunteers, parachute to their destinations, and serve without benefit of showers, electricity, or other modern conveniences. Medical supplies are donated. RAM expeditions go to the Dominican Republic, Haiti, Honduras, Guatemala, East Africa, India, Nepal, Guyana, and Tanzania.

Now here's the shocking part: currently, 60% of RAM's expeditions are right here, in the good old US of A. New Orleans, yes, but also Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia. That's right, instead of deploying its resources to "remote areas", as per the original intent, turns out RAM's services are needed right here, in the richest country in the world.

60 Minutes covered Brock and his team setting up a two day no-cost clinic in Tennessee. The people waiting to be seen were from six states. People slept in their cars, or stood in below-freezing weather, not wanting to chance their shot at medical treatment. They were issued numbered tickets, in order of arrival. The RAM team treated over 900 people.

They turned away 400 more.

Some of the stories were just heart breaking. Like the guy who slept in the parking lot all night, hoping to be one of the lucky ones to make it in. He'd had a heart attack a couple of years before, and had had treatment at that time, but he couldn't afford the follow up care. He'd also been living with an infected tooth for weeks. Yes, actually, he does have health insurance, through his job as a truck driver, but the deductible is $500. He couldn't afford it. He noted that he was fortunate in that he had a vehicle for the two hour drive and all night wait.

There was an elderly woman, in tears because her ticket number was too high to make the cutoff. She was on social security and needed glasses. The interviewer asked what she'd do now, and she hesitated, finally saying she had friends and a church, "... but I hate to ask," she said, breaking into tears. "I've worked all my life ... I hate to ask." (RAM volunteers did end up seeing her, and issued her glasses)

A 28-year-old mother of three had been treated for cervical cancer two years prior. She was supposed to be getting Pap smears every six months, and follow-up care. With three kids and her husband's job loss last year, they couldn't afford it. She got her first Pap smear since the surgery.

Another woman confided it had been 25 years since her last breast exam.

The interviewer asked one of the volunteer doctors who these folks were, this crowd of people so desperate for medical care.

They're the working poor, middle of their lives, most with families, most not substance abusers, and most employed without adequate insurance ...

These folks are people just like you and me. Most of the people seen during those two days are working hard, paying (or have long paid) into a system that is not taking care of them or their families. American families have a right to expect health care from a system we're contributing to. Given the current expeditions of Remote Area Medical, it doesn't look like that's the case.

Spoke Too Soon

OK, so I was a little fast on the draw with my comment yesterday. Apparently, I should not have gone back to work yesterday, as I am right back home again today, as is the son. -sigh- I think I pulled a muscle in my chest at some point last night in a coughing fit. I'm so goddamn sick of coughing it's not even funny. It's getting better though.

I actually do feel better than I did over the weekend, which, come to think of it, isn't saying a whole hell of a lot --- those frogs sitting in a jar in some biology classroom probably feel better than I did on Sunday, but regardless, I am improved, just not quickly enough for my taste. Today is my 4th sick day, plus the weekend. Which chaps my ass, because I prefer spending my sick days and weekends not being sick. Please, like you all really use all your sick days actually being sick.

Anyway, I got up this morning, fully intending to go to work ... and realized that would be idiotic. Went back to bed and slept past noon. Could've easily kept right on sleeping, too, but then I'd have been up all night, and that would really screw things up.

I need to get my ass up and hit the store and the post office ... if I could only convince my ass it actually needs to move. Ugh. Speaking of my ass, there had damn well better be less of it, seeing as I've eaten nothing but soup and toast since last Wednesday night, and not much of that. Damn, if only I hadn't pitched our scale into the garbage a couple of years back, I'd know. I hadn't regretted that little fit of fat-rage until now. Crap. Anyway, if I can keep that up for another few days, maybe I'll have enough of a head start to actually give me that motivation for working out again once I'm feeling better. Or monkeys could fly out of my ass, either one.

I don't really have any news, seeing as I've basically been living in a self induced fog, but I'm bored, so here I am writing about nothing. Oh, really, don't mention it, I don't mind.

Let's see ... you'll all be happy to know our resident toothless wonder has been doing much better. Batman was basically acting like his old self, even playing with his toys, until yesterday. He kept holding his head to the side, shaking his head, and even whined a couple of times, which is very unusual for him. Of course, I was paranoid that his tooth crater had formed some kind of hellish infection, but it appeared to be fine. Other than the fact that his tongue now hangs out a bit at that spot that is, but you can't even see that unless you lift his lip up. It would make him look like a pansy if he ever decided to growl and bare his teeth, though. Anyway, I cleaned his ears, which he hates, because it involves squirting this solution in his ear canals, but now he seems fine. Either that or he's smart enough to fake it so I don't clean them again.


In political news, looks like McCain is edging out the Mittster, which is a relief for me -- I think -- because Romney freaks me the hell out. Seriously, I would not be shocked if he was an alien disguised as a human. There is just something sinister about him. He creeps me out. Then again, is there really a lesser of evils over on the red side this time around? I'm not sure.

Also, John Edwards has pulled out of the race. I'm more sorry about that than I'd have thought, had you asked me a few months back. I actually did like a lot of his positions, and I think he was a good candidate. He shone a spotlight on the whole poverty issue; a bit surprising, coming from the rich, white, straight, privileged male in the race, but there you go. So the question now, to whom will he throw his endorsement? I'm betting on Obama. They seem to have been allying up over recent months, much moreso than either of them with Hillary Clinton. And I tell you what, I would be very very happy at the prospect of an Obama/Edwards ticket.

Also, Ralph Nader apparently is floating the idea of another run for the White House. Hey, Ralph, back the fuck off, OK? Seriously. How many times have you run now? I admire you making a stand for difference, but you know you don't actually have a shot at it, and now is not the time. Now is really not the time, Ralph. Did you not learn anything with the whole Gore deal? When Dubya makes one of his dumbass blunders, do you wonder how much responsibility you bear? We actually have a shot at some change, at making some history, a shot at some friggin' hope here, at the risk of sounding idealistic. So just sit your ass down, Ralph, sit this one out. Greater good, OK?

Damn.

Alright people, that's all I've got for now. I'm still trying to get caught up on everyone's sites. Hope everyone else who's been hacking and snotting is on the upswing. Cheers.

On the Bright Side...

--UPDATE BELOW--

The good news is, I no longer sound like a frog crossed with Lauren Bacall.

The bad news is I now sound like Harvey Fierstein. Yeah. Not quite as sexy as the Bacall thing. Especially when you're a chick.

Also, the continuous coughing and hacking has had an unexpected benefit: that's right kids, the ongoing involuntary ab workout! So really, the danger of a hernia is balanced out by that 6-pack I'm sure to develop. And no gym fees!

Cold & sinus fun has now morphed into some form of hybrid crappery; not full blown flu, but so much more than the common cold. To get the same result, just add a nice lowgrade fever, a deep cough, and some achy joints to the requisite sore throat and snot filled head. And if you really want to mix things up a bit, every once in while, aspirate some of the crap ejected from the lungs during a good coughing convulsion, so that your throat completely seizes up and closes for about 37 minutes. Yeah, good times.

From what I'm reading and hearing, a fair number of my fellow west coasters, as well as some out east, are enjoying their own snot induced misery. I do recommend replacing that roll of toilet of paper with some of those lotion tissues. Big difference.

Hey, at least I'm not puking.


-------------------------------------

OK, this shit's not funny any more. This has morphed into some serious sickness. I just now got out of bed ... at 5pm. Crap. Do you think a person could actually cough themselves inside out? I feel like Tony Soprano and Big Pussy just beat the living shit out of me. That's all I've got .

In the Midst of the Sickery

Some of you have already been privy to my bitchery about the whole moms and sickness thing. Simply put, I'm of the belief that moms should be exempt from illness. Period. It should be outlawed. If I need to explain that to anyone, just think about how your mom (or grandma, whoever held the mom role in your household) took care of you when you were sick. Remember the soup and tea, the thermometers and orange juice and scrambled eggs? Right. Now think of who took care of your mom and kept the house clean when she was sick. Right. Moving on.

I'm home sick today. Yesterday too. Along with the Male Offspring. What started as a sore throat and some sinus nastiness has also progressed downward, so I can now enjoy hacking my lungs up along with my head feeling like it's been pumped full of pudding and my throat feeling like someone took a cheese grater to it.

And just to add to the fun, when is the last time we've had sunny days around the Puget Sound? I'd tell you, if I could remember, but I can't. The last 3 days though, which I've spent ensconced on my couch, wrapped in blankets? Sunny. Gorgeous. Gotta hand it to those Seattle weather gods, their timing is always spot on for a little Cowbell fuckery.

The boys were not happy with me. They expect some dog park action on sunny days, not for their mom to be buried under a blanket hacking and snorting snot around.

I do have to say that Teen Demon made banana and chocolate chip pancakes this morning, which the son and I greatly appreciated. Love that girl. Of course, the pancake maker is not expected to be the kitchen cleaner as well, which normally works out fine. Today, however, engulfed in this sickery, the ensuing chaos of the kitchen was enough to send me straight back to the couch. The son washed dishes though, in exchange for me messing around with our computer router to accomplish some crap or other he wanted to do with his video games. So really the whole mom sickness thing wasn't too awful today.


---------TIME OUT---------------

We interrupt this program with some breaking news from This Old Motherfucking House. The son has informed me, literally at just this moment, that we have leak under the kitchen sink. Fuck. Hold on ...

OK. I'm back. Not to worry folks, only a loose pipe fitting. Just my bastard of a house having a little chuckle, throwing some homeowner hijinx into the mix. Yeah, the fun just never stops does it? The son was good enough to sop up the water with the already ruined roll of paper towels, so it's all good.
------------------------------------


So anyway, last night was Dads' Night for the wrestling team. The dads escort their wrestler or yell leader out to the mat, photos are taken, dad and progeny are introduced to the teeming stands. Kind of a way to honor and thank the parents, which is cool. On moms night, the moms got flowers. Dad's night is also Senior Night, when they showcase the senior athletes and team captains, so it was a special night for Teen Demon, this being her culminating year of high school.

(Teen Demon is second from the right, bottom.)

Male Offspring was Teen Demon's stand-in dad last year, and he wanted to escort her again this year. Except he was sick. He was supposed to be wrestling as well, but that wasn't an option, given his inflamed throat and swollen glands. Anyway, we roused ourselves from couch and bed, showered and got ourselves to the gym on time.


This is them, making the walk out to the mat. Male Offspring was the only one of the "dads" to bring flowers, so that scored him points for the 2nd year in a row.

Isn't he such a good pseudo-dad? This picture makes me want to smile and cry at the same time.

How did they get this old so fast? He's just starting to edge out his big sister in height. (He's already passed the Bohemian.) She's going to be gone to college before I know it. I can't even think about how much I'll miss her. Anyway, the team won the match, sans Male Offspring's wrestling prowess, Teen Demon got her senior's medal and her flowers, and another Dads' Night came and went.

Lassie Channels Cujo

---UPDATE BELOW---

Does the Tooth Fairy do repairs? Because that would be convenient as hell right about now.

Batman broke his tooth. Not just any old little tooth, either. He went for the one of the canines. He's acting fine, but dogs are good at masking pain. Don't want to lose their status in the pack, you know.

Last night something weird happened. Batman went after Mason. Teen Demon had given them each their Christmas treat to chew for a little while. (Big candy cane shaped rawhide chews. This is a special occasion only treat, supervised for short periods only; after Batman's 2005 surgery, I don't want anything else getting hung up in his poop chutes) Anyway, we had them on opposite sides of the room, not even within sight of each other. Batman got up and went after Mason, apparently for Mason's candy cane, which is weird because that meant he had to totally abandon his - a sure thing - to walk over there and attempt to get Mason's - not a sure thing. Not like Batman. He never walks away from treats.

So anyway, that was really weird and not normal, and kind of scary. Mason immediately submitted, and was terrified afterward, but we had to physically pull Batman off. And I don't know what, if anything, this tooth deal has to do with that insanity. I mean, was Batman already in pain from a cracked tooth, and feeling he needed to assert his authority? Did he somehow break the tooth during the frenzy with Mason? The tooth just kind of fell out of his mouth this morning while the Bohemian was petting him.

It's a mystery.


So apparently, you can't just let a dog simply go through life with a broken tooth, oh no, because all kinds of nasty bacteria get up in there, where they can form an abscess, get into the bloodstream, travel to the liver and kidneys, and generally wreak all sorts of havoc. So we will be visiting the vet, who I'm sure will take great pleasure in reaming me, right in the wallet.

I found a lady online who just paid $800 to have her dog's broken tooth repaired, along with a general teeth-cleaning while he was knocked out. What the fuck, people? If I had $800 to spend on teeth, don't you think I'd have my own ass in the dentists chair?

And then, you try to compare prices, and all the vets and online pet advice places are like,

It is impossible to quote what the procedure will cost, as we do not know the status of your pet's teeth and gums. Fee range is based on severity plus costs for preoperative testing, anesthesia, necessary therapy, and medication. The doctor or staff will be happy to give you an estimate once you bring your dog or cat in for an examination.

Fuckers. Come on, you've been doing this for how many years, Mr. Dog Doctor? You seriously can not give me a ball park estimate? You want me to believe you have no earthly idea of what it might cost to fix my dog's broken canine tooth? Because I'm thinking you could give me a price range if you really wanted to. I'm not asking for an exact quote here, just a general idea. Oh, wait ... that would mean spending 30 seconds on the phone that you couldn't charge me for. I guess it's easier for you to give me that ballpark estimate once I've paid that $50 just to walk in the door of your office, isn't it? And it's not like you'd do the surgery right then and there, so that office visit charge can be part of the bill, no, you'll reschedule me to come back, at a later time for the actual work.

Here, hold on, let me just bend over this exam table here, and spread 'em.

And anyway, what the hell is up with my dog and the holiday season? I've recently posted about his 3rd Christmas Adventure in a row, and how we somehow got insanely lucky that this year's ingested ... objects (ahem) and the Ibuprofen poisening didn't do some serious damage. I mean, what is this? It's like, damn, eating that trash and scarfing up those little orange pills didn't bring about the annual Christmas pet drama, hmmm, what to do ... let's see if I can't break a tooth and get those credit cards going! Oh, and while I'm at it, let me pull a Cujo, and attack my friend here, just to add to the excitement!

It's like my dog is possessed by the Spirit of Christmas Freakout. His name should be Linda Blair for the month of December.

Does my dog hate Santa? Is he trying to get on the naughty list? Maybe he has a coal fetish.

-----------------------------

UPDATE:

Last night Batman's stump of a tooth turned up with a crack in it, going up into the gums. I don't know if the tooth already was fractured there, but not actually separated, or if he maybe chewed on a toy while I was gone to pick up the Offspring, "teething style", to try to relieve the pain. Regardless, his tooth stump was cracked, with the front part loose.

Male Offspring's girlfriend's mom took a look (she's a vet) and said it will have to come out, because of the crack. She confirmed what I'd found out yesterday -- the canine tooth's root is hella huge, and will basically be a bitch to get out. It will likely cost around $500. Their family is going out of town tomorrow, unfortunately. (She'd have been able to give me a bit of a break if she did it herself) She also told me that a doggie root canal - preferred for the canine tooth - would need to be done by a vet who specializes in dental surgery, and would likely run $1500 or more. Because of the crack, that's not an option for Batman anymore anyway.

So last night, I'm woken up by the sound of licking and clicking. He'd worked the front section loose. I pulled it out. He seems to feel a lot better now, but the inside of that tooth stump is still exposed, up into the gum. Of course, it's a holiday weekend, so we can't have him seen until Wednesday. His usual MO.

Male Offspring and Teen Demon both said they noticed him eating kind of slowly on Thursday, but didn't think much of it at the time. So now I'm thinking that it was probably fractured before he went all Cujo on Mason, which makes me feel better about that part. He's still acting kind of weird around Mason. I think he feels vulnerable to him. In a pack, a dominant dog will hide an illness or injury from subordinates, to prevent a lower ranking dog from taking advantage of the opportunity to move up the chain. Mason certainly has no designs on trying to dominate anyone, but of course, I can't explain that to Batman. We're feeding Mason outside, and Batman in the kitchen so he feels safe and not rushed. Mason, not the sharpest stick in the pile, keeps trying to hang around Batman.

Batman, although putting on a brave front, has turned into a Velcro Dog, and I can tell it hurts him. I've been giving him aspirin, sparingly, and using clove oil and Orajel on the tooth.

Dogs, in some ways, are more challenging than kids. At least kids can converse with you, and you can reason with them. Well, maybe not so much at ages 2 and 12, but you know what I mean.

The Ice Pick Cometh

The Ovary Gremlin is here. I hate that fucker. It hardly ever happens to me. I've never been one to suffer from "female issues", at least not since those awful cramps of high school. No PMS or any of that. But the Ovary Gremlin is getting his evil on today, wielding his ice pick of doom. I mean the kind of evil where you can't stand up straight, and feel compelled to hurl obscenities behind the effort. Satan's Asshole!*

Sadistic little bastard.

The plan was to work from home a partial day today, while also attending to some things that need doing around the house. Like cleaning. And laundry. You know, those little extras that make a house a home. This pretty much shoots that plan in the ass. Or the ovary. The left one, to be specific. Which makes no sense, timing-wise, as Aunt Flo has come and gone, and I am not in the 'window of fertility', but whatever.

I'm attending the Seattle Race Conference tonight -- hopefully without the Gremlin -- and all day tomorrow. Yes, there's Sunday, but seriously people, going full bore all week, then spending Sunday cleaning and errand-running is a sure recipe for bitchiness and slackassedness the following Monday.

I really hate when I take some time off from work and then have to waste it over some kind of health issue. You think I want to actually use my sick leave for being sick? Please. When you're really sick, you're just grateful for that time to lie under your comforter, dozing in front of old movies and moaning pitifully. But this ... I'm not sick, I'm antsy because I'm wasting perfectly good sick leave being not-sick instead of getting things done.

It's all about sadistic hijinx with the Ovary Gremlin. He'd better be done with me by 5:30 tonight.

None of this is made better by the fact that I was insomniacing last night. Yes, I just coined a verb. Anyway, since I knew I wasn't getting up early to head on in to the office, I was doing my usual online multitasking - checking up on the lastest Republican anti-gay politician in my state caught soliciting gay sex, reading porn at certain blogbuddy sites, drooling over books even though I have a huge unread backlog, and paying online bills. I finally checked out Smilebox, which a few people -- both cyber and "real" -- have talked about. You've probably seen creations over at Lorraine's, who will, I'm sure, be happy to know she was absolutely correct in that Smilebox is basically cybercrack. I think another blogger provided her first taste.

Thus begins the ugly cycle of addiction.

I made this huge slide show for my mom, partly to make up for the fact that I, once again, did not get my father's birthday card out on time. This is a huge deal to the folks. I suck at things like that. I am the world's worst daughter.

Anyway, so I'm merrily Smileboxing away, putting this thing together, when I realize it is 4:00 in the morning. What the hell? I mean, I've heard about one's sense of time being skewed while under the influence of drugs, but this is ridiculous. Crap. Hey, give me a break, there are three kids so really it's like triple the slideshows, triple the fun. Which sounds way more productive.

Anyway, hopefully this will be a change from the usual Kodak Gallery slideshows of the kids for my mom. Take her mind off of my slackass card deficiency. Maybe I'll post it here after I change the caption names. My mom would wonder why the hell the kids were labeled Radical Bohemian or Teen Demon or Male Offspring. Then again, maybe she wouldn't.


*Credit: delightfully effective curse shamelessly stolen from the Radical Bohemian. Her creativity astounds me, as always.

Screw You, Cold Season

Well, at least I don't have Bird Flu. My throat, however, does feel oddly like rabid seagulls have pecked and torn at it in a feeding frenzy.

I'm home for the day. I slept like a rock 'til noon. (what a dumb saying) I will probably take a stab at being productive by posting all my half-heartedly begun rough drafts on my many passing thoughts. Nothing that requires any real thought, though.

I am also watching a 2-hour documentary about the history of the Ku Klux Klan, so I'm feeling sicker by the minute.

And Another Thing (A Health Care P.S.)

Just a piggyback thought, while we're on the subject of health care and I'm still feeling pissed off about it. (read the previous post, if you don't know why) I recently saw the movie Man of the Year, where a comedian (Robin Williams) was elected president.

Guess folks want a change, even in movie land. Anyway, the comedian-president says,

HMOs will pay for your Viagra, but they won't pay for your glasses.

It was supposed to be funny, but it wasn't actually funny at all on account of it's true. I paid a shitload of money for my daughter's glasses, and I am fortunate enough to have "good healthcare" through my 9-to-5. If, however, I were a man wanting Little Richard to perform, that shit's paid for! Just take this to the pharmacy, buddy, we'll get you taken care of, wink-wink!

What the hell is wrong with this country that Viagra is covered so men can get their dicks up, but opthalmology and dentistry are considered, what, extra? Superfluous? A special privilege? They can get dick-pills so they can get off, but eyeglasses and teeth cleaning, well, hold on just a minute there, little lady, that's not altogether necessary.

Anyway. I just thought of that line from the movie, and thought how ironic it is that some man somewhere was getting it up courtesy of our health-care system, on the same day that a 12-year-old boy died from a toothache, because his family didn't have health insurance.

Goddamn, people. That is just wrong.

The Greatest Country on Earth Handles a Toothache

Last night, just as my son was coming to tell me goodnight, I came across a news article about a boy not much younger than he is, a story I could not get my head around. A story about a 12-year-old boy who died from an abscessed tooth.

Deamonte Driver, some mother's son, died from an abscessed tooth.

In this country. In this wealthyass country, a child DIED from a friggin' TOOTHACHE.

WTF??

So, I'm reading this story, hand over my mouth, not believing it, and my son asked me what was wrong. He looked at the picture of Deamonte Driver, showing the scar from his brain operation as a result of his abscessed tooth, and asked, "But, Anyu, how can that even happen? Can a kid really die from a bad tooth? Couldn't their dentist just fix it?"

Yes, a dentist could've easily fixed it. In fact, the tooth never would've been abscessed at all, had Deamonte had regular dentist checkups, the same yearly checkup my son complains about.

The family did not have health insurance. This American family could not afford health insurance. The abscess in Deamonte's tooth got so bad it spread to his brain. Before he died, Deamonte had emergency brain surgery, had seizures and complications afterward, had a second brain operation, then physical and occupational therapy.

Oh, and they extracted the tooth.

• Diamonte's medical bills totalled out at $250,000.
• Extracting the tooth would've cost less than $100.
• With regular checkups, he wouldn't have needed the extraction to begin with.

How about a comprehensive universal health care system, people? Is this enough of a wake-up call? When is the US going to realize that investing in our society benefits all of us? Preventive health care would save money in the long run; $250,000 worth of savings, in this case.

I am so sick of the Blame The Victim mentality in this country, that whole bootstrapper thing -- you know what I'm talking about: If this family had just pulled itself up by the bootstraps and worked a little harder, why they could've had health insurance like the productive citizens of this great land! If they couldn't afford it, well, they must've been Doing Something Wrong. They must be lazy. Probably a single mother. Probably she didn't have control over those kids anyway, I mean, they didn't even brush their teeth enough! She probably spent their toothbrush money on malt liquor.

No, do not even try and tell me I'm being dramatic, because you know there are people who actually think that shit. 

I am sick of the shortsightedness of this country in everything from health care and education to roads and building construction. Seriously, these things are handled (on the whole) by choosing whatever costs the least in the short run. Whatever is cheapest and keeps things afloat during our watch, that's what we go with. No one wants to pay higher taxes. No one wants to invest in anything or anyone except themselves.

Has anyone seen the UNICEF report on international child welfare for this year? Check this out: (from the International Herald Tribune, 14-Feb-07)

The United States and Britain ranked at the bottom of a U.N. survey of child welfare in 21 rich countries that assessed everything from infant mortality to whether children ate dinner with their parents or were bullied at school.
The Netherlands, followed by Sweden, Denmark and Finland, finished at the top while the U.S. was 20th and Britain 21st in the rankings released Wednesday by UNICEF in Berlin.
One of the study's researchers, Jonathan Bradshaw, said children fared worse in the U.S. and Britain — despite high overall levels of national wealth — because of greater economic inequality and poor levels of public support for families.
"They don't invest as much in children as continental European countries do," he said.
Bradshaw cited thin day care services in both countries, and poorer health coverage and preventative care for children in the U.S.

So there you have it. As rich as we collectively are, we are failing our children because we are not interested in a collective, because we are interested in individuals who can pull themselves up by the bootstraps.

Funny how the top ranked countries have universal health care. The topped ranked countries are interested in a collective. They are investing in their society.

I wonder when a Norwegian or Finnish kid last died of a toothache?

I am ashamed and angered and so, so sad that this little boy died over something so goddamned stupid and unnecessary. I am amazed by the fact that had he been born Swedish, instead of American, he would still be alive.