Last night, we went to Chai’s for dinner with Maya, Jesse, and Sumi. Later, we all went to Jo & Joe’s (or is it Joe & Jo’s), where we met up with Thaddeus and Wade, for drinks, trivia, and rowdiness. Lots of fun, and I stayed up way too late.

Today, I wrapped presents, worked on the second sock for my mother (which I’m thinking won’t be finished in time for Christmas, oh well), did some laundry, baked a pie, etc, etc. Soon we’ll be leaving for dinner at Jade Palace, and then on to Greensboro for holidays with the folks.

Happy holidays, all!

I got my AWESOME package from my Fat Girl Swap partner today!!! I love it!! She knit me this sweet scarf – it’s black with red and white stripes at the ends. Honestly, it would never have occurred to me to do the striping like this – I would have tried to have continuous striping, and then it would have turned out too busy for me. But this is just perfect! (Plus, now I know I like that striping, and am thinking about making a sweater to match!) And it’s luscious and cozy. And then she made me a bookmark with a hot fat mudflap lady on it! And then she included the cutest, leopard and palmtree printed card with a sweet note on it that brightened my day! (And just moments before Greg brought the mail in, I’d been in bed with an ice pack on my back because it was acting up.) Here are some pictures, taken immediately after I opened the package and was squeeing and dancing around.

SO! HAPPY!
Thanks, Olga!

Completely out of the blue, I just remembered when Sarah was little, and she and I used to see this asthma specialist, Dr. Slotnick. And I got her to start calling him Dr. Snotlick (although in her wee baby voice it came out “Dr. Snotnick.”) And that shit still cracks me up to this day – I’m giggling just thinking about it now. I know it gave a lot of grief to my mom – worrying that Sarah would call him Dr. Snotnick to his face (or worse, actually enunciate so it came out “Snotlick”) – but it was sooooo worth it.

What was also worth it? Was when I was at Science & Math, and me and April Kinsey taught her “hooker,” and also, if I remember correctly, “whore” and “slut.” And then we’d sit a couple feet apart in the hallway, and send her back and forth between us to say “Hey, hooker” to each other. She was about four. Mom wasn’t too pleased, but it was sooo funny. And still is – I can hear her little four-year-old voice saying those words in my head. And Susan taught her “schmeckle” (I believe it’s Yiddish for “penis”), and would have Sarah call me up on the hall to say “Hey, schmeckle” or “Happy birthday, schmeckle.” And I’d have to get April and Amy and some other ladies to come to the phone so Sarah could call them that, too.

Is there anything funnier than teaching your little sibling naughty words?

I’ve got a cold or flu, and it fucking blows.

I feel like poop.

GRR.

But at least holiday crafts are on schedule – so far. Pictures when I feel like it.

Skeeter likes laying on my jackets, lately:

And I have new items up on my Etsy shop:

Yeesh. So, the 4th and 5th, I had “kidney stones”. And then last Saturday, the 10th, again, and I ended up going back to the hospital – where I, um, cussed at the poor womyn that had to put my IV in, and threw a baby hissyfit. (But I apologized when I’d calmed down!) I was awful. But I got a liter of fluids, and had to piss so much; and some tordal (sp?), and a prescription for percocet, and a special strainer for my urine!

And then last night, I had another “kidney stone,” and it was horrific. So I decided to go to my regular doctors’ today, because four kidney stones in a week and a half seems a little odd, especially when I’ve been straining my urine religiously since Saturday and have yet to find a stone. Although it did appear that I might be passing a teensy bit of blood.

So I went to the doctors’ this afternoon, and gave them some more urine, and there was nothing wrong with it – no blood, no bacteria, nothing. So then the doctor poked the shit out of my back (seriously – I had to take a percocet after the appointment because of it) and proclaimed that my soreness was far too low to be my kidneys, and felt to him more like a stiff muscle. So he thinks the first incident may well have been a kidney stone, and somewhere along the line I sprained/strained my back (I believe he called it the “left para lumbar”), and since then it’s been spasming.

What this means is, I got a prescription for muscle relaxants, and get to start physical therapy – as soon as I make sure I haven’t already hit my wellness benefits max, or whatever coverage it falls under. I’m probably going to wait until the new year, so I’ll have some more sick leave. We’ll see.

I don’t really care, as long as this bullshit stops. It’s killing me. If physical therapy and muscle relaxants do the trick, they’re my new best friends.

In birthday news, my birthday fucking ruled. If our camera was behaving, I’d have a shitload of pictures, but it’s not, so I don’t. Greg gave me a super-cute red and black striped shirt from Tripp (by way of Torrid) and Barbara Albright’s Odd Ball Knitting, which is awesome! Susan gave me a sweet wall decoration (three cherries on a stem), and a good-smelling candle (Tyler Candle Company’s Vintage scent). Niku gave me a muff (the old-fashioned kind, that warms your hands, you pervs!) and a copy of her zine, Shivers & Sprinkles. Danny and Michel gave me Freudian Slippers – they are keeping my feet cozy. And I got a bunch of cute cards!

Saturday night, Greg took me to Sitar, where quite a few of our friends joined us. Afterward, we came home and played games. I had a blast, and Julie and I won at Trivial Pursuit. Sunday, my mom and Sarah came down, and took me out to lunch. And Monday night, Greg made spaghetti nofredo for me. (I believe the PETA recipe is called “alfonso,” but I always call it “nofredo.”)

Sunday afternoon, some idiot lights came on in the Hybrid. So we ended up staying home Monday (my actual birthday), to take it to the dealer for repairs. Luckily, it was under recall, so it was free! That was extremely good news – the Hybrid’s under warranty, but I didn’t think they’d cover what needed repairs (the emissions system). Then we checked out some Poirot dvds, and I had an awesome, and relaxing, evening at home. Happy birthday to me.

Thanks to Jenn for this!

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Hour Canary Your Superpower is Rapping Your Weakness is Chocolate Your Weapon is Your Poison Launcher Your Mode of Transportation is Motor Home

What I Did Over The Weekend, a report by Kathy:

I PASSED KIDNEY STONES, BITCHES!

Saturday night, I went to Julie’s for a yaoi party. It was awesome. There was yummy food and lots of lovely yaoi. (And Julie’s cat, Tabby, is too cute!) As Greg was out of town for Erin’s birthday (which I would have been at, except I was previously committed to the yaoi party), Julie picked me up and dropped me off. My back started hurting on the way home, and shortly after Julie dropped me off, I was IN HELL. I was rolling around on the bathroom floor, screaming at the top of my lungs, convinced I was dying. So I called Julie and asked her to take me to the hospital, which she very sweetly did. And then she sat with me in the waiting room for like four, four and a half hours. Midnight to four-thirty-ish. That’s a good friend, people. And yeah, I’m kinda bitter that I told triage that my pain was a “12 out of ten, worst I’ve EVER experienced” and I still had to wait four and a half hours to get called back, and then another two and a half before I got any pain medicine. But I think they had bigger fish to fry than my kidney stones, so I don’t want to be too bitchy about it. Although I am miffed about the ibuprofen, but we’ll get to that.

So Julie leaves around 4:30 because I told her to get the hell out, because she was all sorts of tired and had work later that day – I know she would’ve stayed if I’d asked, but I was having none of it. So I called my mommy, and she and my littlest sister (Sarah) came down. They got there around 6 in the morning – at that point I had a room and had just been waiting some more. Around 7am, a nurse comes in to take some blood and give me a goddamn catheter in my arm in case they need more blood or an IV or something. She also gives me intravenous ibuprofen (!!!) for the pain, even though I stopped throwing up ages ago (and could keep regular ibuprofen down, too). Also, someone decided (the nurse, someone else, I don’t know) to give me ibuprofen instead of morphine because “the morphine would make [me] groggy.” I should tell you that at this point I was pretty fucking hysterical over having the catheter in my arm, so I’m not sure why they *didn’t* want me doped up and much calmer. But whatever. Then I got a CT scan, that couldn’t find the kidney stone – so I either had passed it already, or the CT scan just couldn’t find it. After some more waiting (for the doctor to look at the CT results, and then for someone to finally get around to removing the damn catheter and discharge me already!), I got discharged with a prescription for pain medicine.

We get to the CVS at 9:50 – the pharmacy opens at 10. While we’re waiting, I look at the prescription and notice that it’s for fucking ibuprofen and decide to save myself a little bit of cash and buy it over-the-counter, and just administer the dose they’ve written out on the prescription. Bastards. I know someone else who has gone to the same hospital for kidney stones four times, never had to wait more than an hour, and has always been given morphine in the hospital, and a prescription for percocet on discharge. AND another prescription for antibiotics because apparently people commonly get an infection after passing kidney stones. I got none of this. I’m a little miffed. I’m also a little miffed at the bitchy nurses who got upset with me for crying over the damned catheter, and who said “There’s no needle!” when I explained that I have a huge problem with needles. I guess next time I should elaborate that I have a problem with any sort of thing being stuck into my veins, especially if it’s STAYING there for an extended period of time, and even more so if I can look at it and watch my own blood drip down it (like with the catheter). But I was too busy crying and trying to hold still for them at the time. For once, I’ll actually fill out and return the comments survey when I get it. Grr.

They also said my labwork showed blood in my urine – not enough for me to notice, but there nonetheless. It really creeped me out to know that I had been passing blood without knowing. Ew, guck.

Anyway. So then Monday I was still feeling wonky, and like I’d been beaten up all over – and I ended up going home very early from work, to pass another stone. But the second one wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the first, since I loaded up heavily on ibuprofen and water once I realized what was happening.

I also think I may have figured out where my needles/veins/blood issues come from. At Thanksgiving, my dad gave me some dvds he’d made from old family movies – me at like five months, and then another with me and Susan at 4 and 2, respectively. Well, the one with Susan was made while she had leukemia, and she’s at home with a “butterfly” (this thing they put in her little 2-year-old vein when she got to go home, to hold it open for an IV). I’d forgotten how much the butterfly upset me, until I saw wee Susan with it – we were playing “kitchen.” Anyway, all of a sudden it comes into view, and I got really upset and almost started crying over it – it makes her look kinda suddenly frail. She doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, but that kinda upsets me more – that a sweet little kid is so accustomed to butterflies and hospitals and IVs and the business of leukemia. (She’s fine, if you’re wondering.) Anyway, so while I was in the hospital, I remembered watching the dvd, and mentioned it to my mom – and she remembered me being upset by the butterfly, so that might be where this whole needle/veins/blood crap comes from. Not that figuring that out helped me get over the catheter – especially since they put it in right before I had to pee, and put it in my “wiping arm.”

Wow. I can really ruin a moment, can’t I.

Chalupa!