All My Wisdom is Gone

I know I have not updated in a while. This may have a lot to do with the fact that I have been in excruciating pain and unable to really eat for over a week or it could be just because I am exceptionally lazy. But let's go with option one to make me feel better. Ironic that my pain would somehow make me feel better.

The surgery to extract my wisdom teeth went relatively smoothly. I was in and out in about an hour and home on pain meds and icing within another hour. (I was only prescribed Tylenol with Codeine but I had some vicodin on hand just in case.) However, I did not - unlike what everyone told me I would do - sleep the rest of the day. I was tired for most of the day but was completely unable to sleep. I did, however, relax and lay around most of the day and try to come to terms with the fact that I couldn't eat. Overall, though, I would say the pain was not too bad. It was a lot like when I had my shoulder surgery - there was some dull pain and only severe pain when I tried to do something I really shouldn't.

Oddly, the pain in the lower left half of my mouth became worse a few days later and I developed a fever of over 100 and decided that I must have an infection. I was on aZpack ever since the surgery but I eat antibiotics like they are going out of style. What the hell does a Zpack really mean to my skewed immune system? So, I went back to see my oral surgeon and he decided I couldn't possibly have an infection, as the wounds seemed to be healing so well and everything else looked great. I still think I had a secondary infection. However, I was already on the Zpack. So, I left his office hoping that would be enough. Oh, and he also gave me more pain meds. Unfortunately, my stomach decided it did not really like pain medication anymore after a few days and I mostly played hurt.

As time progressed, I was able to isolate my increased pain to what felt like bruising of my jaw bone and lots of nerve pain, but almost all of it was contained to the lower left hand side of my mouth. It became a waiting game. A test as to how long I could survive on yogurt and applesauce, and it turns out I can do so for over a week. However, after all of that, I go on some crazy burger binge, which somehow seems to ease the pain. I have no scientific evidence to prove it but I will say I felt marked improvement after every day that I ate a burger. Just sayin'.

The bright die to all of this, other than the discovery of the medicinal uses of cheeseburgers, is that I never have to have my wisdom teeth out again.

Extraction and Race

This is it, folks. The week I go in and my four wisdom teeth come out. I am really not looking forward to this, as so many folks keep talking about how miserable and painful it is. However, at least one or two people have said it was not that bad for them. I just want the pain to be short lived, and not to have a month of infections afterward - like what happened with my shoulder surgery.

I see quite a few bloggers I read are espousing the virtues of Obama. For them, education appears to be their number one issue. I think this is good. I think education should be everyone's number one issue, as one of the best ways to uplift a society is through education. On the other hand, I feel like finding quality educators and resources can be difficult. I think I feel dumber after reading half of whatever mainstream media has put out there, and I often think it is not just the inputting of facts and information into a person's head that is important, but also teaching them how to think and question and really get down and dirty with the facts. I do not feel that is done enough.

I also do not feel Obama supporters necessarily have the high ground in the debate. I think Obama is the smarter and better candidate. However, I have trouble viewing him as better or more honest. I have pointed this out before here. I was commenting to my girlfriend last night that I think it would be really awesome if a candidate decided one year to just be completely truthful and honest with the American people and the media about what they did and did not do and what their plans actually were. It would be interesting to see if the media picked up on this and there started to be some sort of contest as to which candidate could be the most honest. Instead of having to rely on factcheck.org to tell us what the truth actually is. The worst part is that I am not sure such services work.

I was listening to a news story recently discussing some scientific studies that have been done over the years and it appears the refutation of erroneous facts does not work. Hence, if someone tells you that the administration knows that Iraq has weapons of mass destruction or that the president's economic plan will save our economy, often the subsequent refutation of those statements with facts will not change the your original opinion. In fact, conservatives end up believing the originally stated erroneous fact more vigorously when it is refuted. This heightened state of belief did not seem to occur with non-conservative participants in the study, but that may have been because the questions involved were hot button conservative questions. It is unclear. What seems to be pretty clear is that once bad facts are out there, it is really hard to unring that bell. Perhaps we should institute fines on any political figures that deliver erroneous facts. It really seems odd to me that we, as voters, do not demand more. We get Obama and we are happy. Somehow it does not seem like enough.

Has Obama lied during the last two presidential debates? Of course. Has John McCain? Absolutely. Yet, we would like to elect one of these liars into our highest public office. Because "everyone does it". It somehow just does not feel right. What, liberals have the moral highground when voting for Obama because he wants to teach children? What does he want to teach them? If you lie well enough and tell enough people what they want to hear, you too can be president? It frustrates me that this is even acceptable. Not only acceptable but there are people so fervent in their support that they will wear buttons and T-shirts promoting their favorite liar. And make no mistake about it - McCain is no better. He cheated on his wife, inflated his accomplishments, omitted important facts and has done all sorts of inappropriate things. However, I wonder if Obama's record would be any cleaner if he had been in office for thirty years.

Sorry, I wandered off the path. I guess it is all of that wisdom still stuck in my head. Don't worry, though. They swear they will take it all away this week. Although, I hear it is very painful.

Delays

As some of you know, I went to New York two weeks ago to see the premiere of my girlfriend's play - the one she wrote, not the one she acted in, as she would likely never actually get on stage as a performer. She can barely handle the thought of people listening to her words being spoken on the stage, as she waits and hopes for signs of the audience's approval. Given that I was flying to New York, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to fly Jet Blue and see what all the hype was about. My own personal TV? How bad could it be.

My flight out was early in the morning, maybe 6AM. It was a fairly empty flight and everyone managed to get there on-time and board in an orderly fashion. Everyone that is, except one of the pilots. Good times. We sat there in the plane waiting for 30 minutes until the pilot managed to get to the plane. Once we were airborne, the Direct TV refused to work. So, they gave us free movies. Not bad. I watched Kung Fu Panda (something mindless that I did not have to give serious mental thought to) and because they build so much extra time into their arrival times, we easily arrived on-time. So, while I started out disliking Jet Blue and thinking they were incompetant, I left thinking maybe it was just an anomoly.

While in New York, I got to see two or three performances of my girlfriend's play, see and meet fun people, and sample delicious food. It seems like delicious food is everywhere up there, much like it is in Chicago. You generally do not have to worry about whether you will like the food at a particular restaurant because, one way or another, you are going to. (Except for the overpriced fish that I ordered that tasted a little too much like fish. Although, I have to admit, it and all of its accompaniments were cooked perfectly. Plus, I had tacos before I arrived. So, I was already well fed.) I also got to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and experience what it is like to be surrounded by hordes of rude, annoying people that I really just wanted to push over the side. It was also on this walk that I discovered that my digital camera was broken, with a huge crack in its LCD. Good times.

The house we were staying at had a king sized Temperpedic style bed. Except, it's a different brand called Isotonic. That bed was amazing. It was like I could sleep forever on it. You woke up and if you didn't want to be awake yet, you just rolled over and fell back to sleep. Absolutely fantastic. I have a terrible time sleeping - the act often aludes me, especially if I want to sleep extra, but I realize now it is because all the sleep has been hiding in this bed. Fantastic. Unfortunately, the owners of the house also had a dog. It wasn't there while we were, but as anyone who knows me and my allergies can attest, that doesn't matter.

Now, to be fair, it is unclear whether I had a cold or allergies or both. What is known is that by night two, I had a sore throat and I remained sick for the next two days I was in New York. To add to my feelings or terribleness, Jet Blue delayed my return flight for five hours (four in the airport and the next one on the plane). I met two seasoned fliers in the airport that explained it was not just bad luck, it was Jet Blue. In fact, as I looked around the airport, I saw that all the surrounding flights out were also delayed. I now officially hated them. We eventually filed onto our very full flight, and there I was sandwiched in-between two women - one young and one old. Like before and after photos maybe. (My girlfriend stayed for the following week in New York, as she still had more shows.)

I arrived home, and placed a call to my office, leaving a message to let them know there was just no way I could come in on Monday. My voice sounded awful and I had a fever. During the course of last week, I went from feeling like I was almost better to losing my voice and feeling like I was never going to be able to speak again. My doctor wasn't sure what I had, but he gave me antibiotics in case it was a sinus or respiratory infection, given the blood and other oddly colored fluids emanating from me, it seemed like a safe bet. However, I delayed in starting on the antibiotics, as he and I wondered, maybe it was just allergies, delaying my recovery. Finally, towards the end of last week, when my voice was almost completely gone, I started on the antibiotics, and then spent this entire weekend doing nothing but sleeping and reading. I think my voice if slowly coming back now, but it will probably not be until the end of next week that I am fully recovered. Somehow, I know this is all Jet Blue's fault.

Too Much Wisdom

I have never had my wisdom teeth removed. They just grew in with no pain or problems. Unfortunately, my jaw bone inhibits me from actually reaching them when I brush my teeth and I got cavities in all of them. When the dentist filled two of them, he found the cavities were deeper than he thought and decided that what I really needed was to get them extracted - an operation he wanted to do right then and there with just a little Novocaine and he said I would be fine with just some Tylenol after. I told him thanks but no.

Recently, about a year ... maybe two later, I just sat down with an oral surgeon to plan on finally having it done. I will be put asleep before it happens and be taking Percocet after. Although, I think it will still be a miserable experience, I keep thinking that just leaving them in and one day getting an infection in the nerve will be far more miserable because then I'll have lots of pain before the surgery, as well as all of the pain after.

Fortunately, I pay for dental insurance and it will cover most of the cost of this and I will only have to pay a few hundred dollars. Although, the amount I have paid for the insurance over the years may all equal it out. It's hard to say for sure, but it has also paid for lots of other stuff like preventative measures - cleanings, periodic X-rays - not the really good X-ray I needed for the the surgeon, but all the other ones.

One of the paralegals at our office has an illness and with all of the medications that she has to take, all of which our health insurance company indexed to the highest tier - $60 each. Plus the tests that she needs that require her to meet our $2,500.00 deductible before they cover her, she has been spending almost all of the extra money she makes (the money that exceeds her ordinary monthly bills) on her medical needs. The thing that gets me about this is she has health insurance. This reminds me a lot of what I went through last year with my shoulder surgery - I needed my entire Christmas bonus to pay for my shoulder surgery and physical therapy, and I had health insurance.

A few weeks ago, I watched Sicko. I did not find it the profound revelation of a movie that so many others seem to have seen it as. I thought it was interesting, but I really wanted to hear more about both sides. I wanted to understand what average people (not seemingly wealthy people) thought of their medical insurance in these countries with government funded medical insurance. I mean there simply must be disgruntled people in those medical systems, right? Because if not, I think we should adopt one of their medical plans today.

NPR did a series on most of these countries, trying to cover how each one worked. Often, they would find a family from the United States who had been forced to relocate to one of these countries so that they could receive the medical treatment they needed for their ongoing conditions. Clearly, these systems have their benefits. However, what about people coming here for treatment? I have heard that happens. Does it happen? How much does it happen? Are there lots of people in these other countries receiving substandard treatment? Does that happen here too? How long do they have to wait for their surgeries? What about at the ER? And what will the cost really be - yes, our taxes will be higher but our employers could also afford to pay us more.

One of my physical therapists had done her internship over in England. She had said the medical system was not so bad over there. It had its shortcomings, but it was not bad. One of the women I know who lives in Toronto always seemed to get all the treatment she needs. I don't know. The thing I find really unfortunate is how hard it seems to be able to find this type of information. You would think more news agencies would take the time to do a really thorough exploration of issues like these. Issues that really seem to matter. They may find that if they did more people would read them.

Harder To Breathe

Several years ago, a doctor started me on an asthma medication called Advair. You may have seen the commercials for it. The medicine comes in a purple discus and actually contains two different medications. Its goal is to prevent you from having asthma attacks at all so that you do not have to use your fast acting inhaler and scar your lungs. Excellent things to strive for in my opinion. However, my insurance company decided to re-categorize Advair as a much higher tier prescription medication. Suddenly, I was spending much more on the product. A representative there recommended that I switch to the generic form of both medications in the Advair, which saved me a lot of money, but was quite a hassle. So, I just stopped taking my medicine entirely. Thank you, United Health Care.

After about a week of not taking the medicine, however, I seemed to actually be sleeping better. No, I was no Rip Van Winkle and I still sometimes had trouble making it past seven or eight hours, but I really was sleeping seven or eight hours. This was fantastic. I looked online and found that a possible side effect of the medicines in Advair is trouble sleeping. Well, guess what, that possible side effect page was written for me. It even said the medicine could worsen your asthma attacks and cause death. That was a little scary.

I now seem to be sleeping pretty well. Not all the time, but on a much more frequent basis. My body is even able to return to sleep sometimes after it is awoken. I am in complete awe of this crazy new thing called sleep. However, my lungs are a little less than happy. Sure, I have not had any sever asthma attacks and nothing bad enough to force me to use the fast acting inhaler (which I do not have), but I have had bouts of shortness of breathe and occasionally my girlfriend will look at me with those questioning eyes that say, "You aren't really going to go run a mile now are you?"

Now I am faced with the ultimate question, would I rather breathe or sleep. Somehow, I feel the latter will prevail, as I am just too tired to think about these difficult questions.

I Don't Understand

I wanted to write, but do not have very much to say. I got my first round of immunizations for my trip to Costa Rica next year. Just two more rounds, and I'll be ready, immunologically speaking. The woman that gave me my shots was really nice and seemed to know everything about diseases and which shots and medications I needed, and where to get a free, small supply of Cipro and everything else one could want when planning a trip to a foreign country where you could get Malaria and die.

Instead of continuing to bore you, however, I leave you with this small wisp of fiction that I wrote without thinking.

"I don't understand," she said, as her eyes welled up with sadness.

He had seen this look before, too many times, and knew the tears were about to fall. He hated the tears - they were the worst part. He would have done almost anything to keep them from falling. Instead, all he did was stare coolly at her, attempting to affect some sympathy and understanding in his eyes, but it was the end of the day and they were tired. He silently hoped she would hold it together just a little.

"I am really sorry to have to deliver the news, ma'am, but your husband is dead," his stare slightly softened. Usually, about now the reality would start sinking in. He really wished his partner was there, she was so much better at delivering news like this. Figures she had to be out sick today. He saw two small children contained in the picture over the woman's shoulder. They were probably at some after-school event, completely unaware at what news they were about to uncover when they came home. Something was burning in the kitchen.

"He was shot?"

"Yes, ma'am. It looks like he was not the intended target. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two other people were shot with him. We believe it was a gang related shooting, but the investigation is still pending." Poor bastard was probably out trying to do some good. His fingerprints had been listed in the police files database, having been a social worker years ago. He had since gone into private practice working with the down-trodden. Perhaps trying to heal a partially fractured soul, after years of screwing the little guy in the big corporate rat race. No way to know, just now. It may even end up that he was an intended target. One thing was clear, the victim should have just stayed home with his lovely wife and enjoyed a quiet fall day in bed with the missus. What the hell was he doing in that part of town? He should have known better.

He began cautiously questioning her, gently probing for details, "Any idea why your husband was out that way; Did he have any enemies", etc. It was probably just going to end up being another case filed away as collateral damage, but he had to go through the motions. After twenty years on the job, the one thing Grady had learned was that routine was your friend.

An Apple a Day(?)

Not knowing any of my immunization history, and figuring that it would be far worse to acquire lock-jaw over a weekend, I called my doctor and had him give me a tetanus shot.

Seeing as several people have asked, I should probably explain what I learned about tetanus. (I am no doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday-Inn Express once.) According to the nurse I spoke with and some Websites devoted to providing information on tetanus, any type of injury that breaks the skin can lead to a tetanus infection. The tetanus bacteria itself is found in dust, soil, and manure. So dirty implements are more likely to have the bacteria on them. However, the bacteria can also enter the wound after the laceration has been made. The only safe way to avoid getting it is to have a tetanus shot every five to ten years. Quite a gap there, huh? I still do not quite understand that part and everyone seemed to have their own opinion on it. However, absolutely every medical person I spoke with agreed that I needed one. In comparison to the flu shot, I have to say that this one had much more lingering pain, but I am not sure if that is attributable to the medicine itself or if maybe the nurse somehow hit a muscle. However, they were all really nice about it.

In other news, Apple has annoyed me quite a bit. I have been using an iPod for a little over two years without incident. However, ever since they released their recent patches, to make sure all those unlocked iPhones would no longer work, I have found it completely impossible to get iTunes to recognize my iPod, or if it does, iTunes will generally then crash. It got to the point that I just didn't think I could even use my iPod anymore. So I wrote Steve Jobs and one of Apple's tech people emailed me back, requesting some follow-up information. This was great. I was so impressed. I was even more impressed when a tech tracked down my number through their internal system, and called me. Unfortunately, they called me while I was at work and my computer and iPod reside at home. So, they had to schedule a service call for the weekend.

The weekend came and went and Apple never called me. So, I emailed them and they apologized and promised to resolve the issue. A new tech guy called me a few hours later and scheduled a callback for the next weekend (last weekend). Well, once again, I never got a phone call, until hours later, when I was no longer anywhere near my home. We are now on week three, but they swear they are going to call me this time. I still at least give them props for contacting me. I doubt I could have ever gotten a response this easily out of Microsoft. Plus, they did not invent Vista - an operating system that seems doomed to fail and go the way of Windows Me.

A Slice of Life

It's good to have goals. My goal this season was to cook more with squash. No, not the yellow and zucchini squashes you so often see. I am talking about spaghetti, butternut, and acorn squash. Mmmm. The types of squash I have always been intrigued and fascinated by but never attempted to do anything with because they are foreign and unknown. It's fairly easy for me to figure out what to with everyday squash, but these are different and weird.

So, I started small. Spaghetti squash with herbs and butter. Delicious. Easy. Next on the menu was pasta with butternut squash and eggplant in a yummy sauce. The trick was that the recipe called for the squash to be peeled. Getting home, I stared at the oddly shaped squash, considering how I was exactly supposed to peel it. It did not appear to be the typical vegetable one can peel with a peeler. I probably needed a knife. Reducing it to a manageable size, I began trying to cut away the flesh from the peel. Suddenly, the knife slipped from the squash, sailed through the air and sliced straight through my skin, plunging deeply into my thumb. Oh, and did the blood flow.

Did I need stitches? I was not really sure. Clearly, I needed to get the bleeding to stop, but was it bad enough for an ER visit and lots of money in the form of a co-pay? Finishing dinner, I elevated my hand and let the cloth towl adhere to the wound, eventually replacing it with a bandage that would similarly adhere, but look less obtrusive.

Yesterday, I kept wondering if I needed stitches, looking at pictures online and comparing them to my own gaping wound, it still seemed unclear. It sure looked like that one there that needed them, but it also looked a lot like this other one that didn't. I called a nurse through my insurance company. "When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"

"That is truly excellent question. Unfortunately, my last doctor lost every medical record I had and I have been spending the last month trying to track down pediatricians and other previous doctors, piecing together my past." Some fear a large company like Google or Microsoft being in-charge of maintaining our medical records, but to be honest, I'd feel more comfortable having them all in one place, in a hopefully safe and secure format. Not out of any concern that others might hack in and steal them. I assume they could do that at my doctor's office now. But more out of a concern that they too would one day just lose all my records and ask me if I was sure I was ever really a patient. I cannot imagine how wonderful it will be to be able to call one place and obtain all of my medical records from one source. No multiple offices to call, and multiple release forms to fill out. Sure, it sounds stupid and silly, but when you suddenly really need to have this information and cannot locate it, it becomes really, really important.

On the bright side, the squash dish turned out to be delicious, and the wound appears to be healing. However, I still do not know if I need a shot or if I will develop lockjaw or something equally as bad in the coming days. Of course, if I do, it will give me another exciting event to post about.

Bits and Pieces

I just got put on antibiotics again last night. I think this is the third infection I have had since my surgery. Oh yeah, I know how to have a good time. The medication - the five pills I was prescribed - was $60; my insurance saved me about $13. Way to go insurance. I swear there's got to be a better insurance package out there, and I think I should be on it.

I got to see Harry Connick, Jr. last week. It was really cool. I did miss seeing (but not hearing) the first half of the show, though. They oversold several rows and lots of people had tickets to the same seats. So I left my friend to enjoy the show and went to join the angry mob. Anyone that says angry mobs don't accomplish anything clearly has never been to a concert in which their seats were oversold. We were able to get a complete refund for our tickets and still see the show, but we also missed half the show negotiating the settlement and getting it all processed and then had to stand for the whole thing, which was unfortunate for my friend because she had not worn her comfy shoes. Even more unfortunate, in my opinion, was the refund money went to my friend's ex, as he had bought the tickets. On the bright side, while I was with the angry mob, I happened to see my surgeon (not an angry mob member). He started fixing my sling and asking how I was doing, offering to phone in a prescription for more pain medication the next day (those are only $10 - yay ). As he was doing this, the woman on my right chimed in with more helpful advice. She turned out to be a physical therapist and the younger woman next to her was also a doctor. It was cool because I was able to get lots of free medical advice. Plus, the second half of the show was fantastic. There was far more improvisation and it was just great. Unfortunately, the crowd was weak - apparently, they only really get passionate about seats, not about music - and he only came out for one encore. However, it was still really good.

I took a page of my own advice and started reading some archived material of a blogger I know. It had actually occurred to me to do this several months ago, but I never had time. You might be surprised, though, at how much one can accomplish when they're miserable and sick for a weekend. The process was immensely informative and not a little bit frustrating. I suppose that could be the danger in exploring the past - you poke around enough, you're liable to encounter some unsettling things.

In two weeks, I'll be in Chicago. Freezing. "Today it was warm; it was in the 40's." "You quite clearly have lost your entire sense as to what in fact constitutes warm, as that would leave me shivering in a ski jacket, gloves, and hat." "I was in a tank top." "You are simply sick and misguided. Someone needs to teach you that there are places with sunlight and warmth that actually involve being more that ten degrees above freezing." It shouldn't surprise me, this is the same woman that went to Chipotle and then went to meet her friend for dinner. "Wait could you repeat that?" She did. I laughed. "What's so funny?" "Let me get this straight, you went to Chipotle, got a burrito, and then left there to go meet your friend for dinner?" "Well I had the bowl, not the burrito." "This is great. It's so going in my blog." "I don't see what's so funny," she said after suffering a fit of laughter.

This weekend is likely to involve more bed rest, more blog reading, and maybe, just maybe, I'll make some actual progress in this book I have been attempting to finish for weeks. It's good to have goals.

Medical Report

It's now been almost two weeks since my surgery. In that time, I've had two infections and a rash (which still hasn't gone away).

It all started innocently enough, I went to the hospital and eventually convinced a reluctant senior nurse that I really do have a tremendous aversion to needles. I think what really convinced her was the heart monitor beeping at a velocity normally reserved for runners at the end of a marathon, as she went to locate a place for the IV, even after she placed me on straight oxygen. She ended up giving me lots of tranquilizers to sedate me. Next came the numbing of the arm. This is the fun part where they play with an electric stimulator on the nerves in your neck until they get you to admit pain and get your arm to flop around in just the right manner. Then there's the injection. Fortunately, my nerves of steel were not really convinced the first time around that they should be numb, so we got to do this fun procedure twice. At last, came the surgery, of which I remember absolutely nothing, other than the intense discomfort I felt in my arm after anesthesiologist finished giving me lots of oxygen and told me he was going to inject the tranquilizer and that the burning sensation I would likely feel was normal.

After the procedure, I remember being intensely thirsty and wanting my friend to be there.

"You want us to call her now?"

"Yes."

After satiating my thirst, they called my friend, fed me applesauce and tried in vain to entice me with a granola bar.

That night, I started running a fever, which persisted through most of the weekend. There I was, in the beautiful Sunshine State, sitting under three comforters, with my teeth chattering as though I were in Chicago in the dead of winter. Something was clearly wrong with this picture, and not just the fact that I wasn't able to lie down because of the surgery - a condition that would persist for over a week. My ears and throat hurt and I just wanted the fever to go away and not come back. Only the former request was respected.

My friend was immeasurably helpful. Even though I was a terrible patient and she had to fight with me to pretty much do anything for me, I greatly appreciated her taking the time to cook for me and more than anything, I appreciated her company. It was sad for me when she left because I didn't know what it would be like to not have anyone there to help me or joke with, but the time had come and there was simply no avoiding it. Besides, I had my percocet and antibiotics to keep me company.

Next came the doctor visits. First I saw my surgeon, who informed me that the surgery did not go in any way as expected. The tendons that they thought were torn, didn't show any indication of an actual tear. Instead, it had been a shoulder abnormality that he had needed to correct. I now am the proud owner of some interesting shots of the inside of my shoulder. The next day, I went to see my general physician regarding the fever I still had. He found the wounds to be infected and gave me more medications. Several days later, I developed a rash. Still don't know what that's from. However, the Benedryl seems to be helping.

My stitches come out next week but the sling will remain for at least another two weeks. I'm still having trouble not using my shoulder and am often very sternly reminded by my body that I am not allowed to complete that motion at this time. It's a very harsh and unforgiving reminder that can linger for at least an hour. And the rehabilitation will take approximately four months, but hopefully, I will be better than ever once it is all over.

Medical Leave

So tomorrow is the day that they cut me open. I'm told that my shoulder is going to be in incredible pain after and I'm not sure how manageable typing will be for a while. However, rest assured, my eyes will still be working and I will still be reading. I know this reassures all of you, as you all really only write for my amusement.

Put It On

When I was in school, we had health education. The most uncomfortable portion of the whole class, of course, was sex education. All sorts of inaccurate, yet clinical sounding, information was floated about once we had exceeded the teacher's knowledge, and of course there was the banana. After all, that's what you're going to need to put a condom on, right, a yellowish curved fruit that will one day over-ripen and turn into an odd colored mush in your hands. (Hmm, maybe they were on to something.)

One of the fundamental principals that we had drummed into us during these classes was directed at the ladies, as they were constantly instructed that men wouldn't want to wear a condom. They would come up with all sorts of excuses about sensitivity and lack of pleasure and the woman was to disregard these obviously false statements and insist on him wearing it, and not worry about whether or not he was still going to love or stay with them. If the man really cared, he'd wear the condom. Men were, of course, instructed to wear protection and that it was important, but mostly only because it made the woman's job easier. Ultimately, the woman was put in place as the gate keeper. We'd watch those stupid health class videos where the guy would come up with all the excuses our teachers said they would and the woman would triumphantly insist on the man wearing the condom. We, as men, were trained to assume that women wouldn't sleep with us unless we wore condoms, or if they did, we'd have to come up with some sneaky way around it.

Since then, I learned that women often do not perform their role as gate keeper in this, or often any other, area. I have had far more women insist that I don't wear a condom than ever ask me to put one on. "Do you really have to wear that?" "It doesn't feel the same when you have one of those on." Wait a second, why were these ladies using all the lines men were supposed to use. In school, they had taught us that we were the ones that would fight not to put one on, not the other way around. I felt wholly unprepared. The videos all taught us that men wouldn't want to wear a condom and that really we were only supposed to wear them so that the woman wouldn't feel uncomfortable. Now, it seemed that the only thing that would make them uncomfortable was if I actually heeded the words that had been imparted to me in health class.

So while there seems to be much debate about whether there is too much health (and sex) education in our schools. I happen to feel there isn't anywhere near enough. I know I certainly wouldn't have minded being more prepared for the inevitable time that all that training was about to be put to excellent use. Although, I still question the wisdom of the banana.

Unexpected Costs

"I'm sorry, sir, but while you are entitled to twenty physical therapy visits per year, we only cover the cost of the therapy after you've met your deductible."

"But that's $2,000.00."

"Yes, that's correct, sir."

"But the woman I spoke to before I started the therapy several weeks ago said that it would all be covered without any cost to me."

"I'm sorry, sir; I don't see that in the system, but you can appeal it if you'd like."

The really interesting part is that there is no way you could meet the deductible with twenty visits, and it's unlikely twenty visits would ever be enough to recover from surgery. Not to mention the fact that you'd have no coverage if you should need any therapy for another injury later in the year. What a brilliant system. Pay for insurance that never really affords you a benefit. Brilliant. I'd imagine my office saves quite a bit with having this coverage in place. Unfortunately, I don't make anywhere near as much as the partner that selected this plan and am unable to so easily absorb the additional out-of-pocket expense.

My day could really only get better from there one would think. However, as the day wore on, I started hearing about terrible things that were happening to others and it was hard for me to feel bad for myself. A woman who used to work at my office has a husband who will die from cancer within the next week or two and a friend of mine lost his house in a fire. Not to be outdone, I immediately got sick. I know it still doesn't quite measure up, but having lost two homes to fire in the past and almost losing my mother to cancer, I feel like I should get some credit for it.

Our office took up a collection for the woman. We're not sure how helpful it will be or if she'll even be able to pay all the medical bills that are sure to be accruing right now, but we figured it should be helpful to at least help her buy some food or something for now. It's hard to know what to do when tragedy strikes. I remember reading recently, about all the people that donated money to an organization that was supposed to help the families of the firefighters that lost their lives in California last year, only to find out recently that the money raised may not qualify for the charitable deduction. It makes me wonder what would happen if a person hit hard times and needed to file bankruptcy but because of all the money being donated to them, they couldn't qualify for relief. What an odd predicament that would be.

It now remains to be seen how I will be able to afford the surgery I am supposed to have next month, and still pay my rent. I think it's rather odd that I'm an attorney and I have to worry myself with questions like this, and I'm still undecided about how I feel about the fact that I cannot deduct the interest I pay on my student loans every year, as I make just enough in gross income to meet the phase-out limitation, but still not enough to afford my medical bills, as half of my annual salary goes directly to student loans and rent.

It always reminds me of a message my friend's father had on his refrigerator when I was growing up, "Due to financial constraints the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off until further notice."

The Results Are In

After I had finished my first round of physical therapy yesterday morning, I saw my doctor who reviewed my report and my MRI scans and informed me that I had not one, but two torn tendons. Yes, that's right, boys and girls. I don't do anything halfway. Actually, it is my belief that one of the tears occurred during college, which would explain the pain I have experienced ever since then with certain shoulder movements. However, I have no way of knowing for sure.

One of the tears is a complete tear and the other is a partial tear. However, because the pain has been lessening with time and because the tendons are in my shoulder, my doctor would like to try physical therapy through Christmas time to see if my shoulder improves. If it does then I don't need surgery. If it doesn't or if it worsens then he has to cut me. I'm not really looking forward to getting cut open, which is probably what will have to happen - at least for the complete tear, and I doubt my shoulder will ever really be the same again. However, I am happy that I don't work at Wal*Mart and at least have insurance that covers a portion of the cost of all of this.

As I'm injured and am involved in too many activities again, I haven't been able to work out as much and have devoted the marginal amount of time I do have to both cooking and discovering new and wonderful Websites to share with you. (I cooked, and surprised my friend who was just in the car accident with, a pumpkin pie from scratch (even the crust) because one of the last things she asked me to do before the accident was make her a pumpkin pie.)

One of the Websites I found is for a smallish nonprofit organization that provides a free phone number and voice mail for people that really need it. For example, a homeless person that's looking for a job - so that they can receive messages from potential employers and actually schedule interviews, or a woman with no money who is leaving a domestic violence situation and who needs a way to stay in contact with the people that actually care about her. It's a really cool organization, in my opinion, and Cisco seems to like them too, as they gave them a $2.5 million grant in 2003.

The other site was just too cool not to write about: Ever wanted to have an extramarital affair but couldn't figure out how to pull it off? Can't find that 'seminar' to attend so that you can sneak away and get the sweet lovin' you need? Well, these folks are here to help. (Note: the company's Website is down so you may need to visit Google's cached version).

Personal Injuries

In the not so distant past, I inflicted myself with two injuries, but only one of which is relevant for this post today. I went to the gym, and didn't even get the weight for my first set over my head before I felt excruciating pain in my shoulder. I had hoped that it would subside, that it was merely a strain, but the pain wouldn't go away. Even when I was in Italy, it was hurting. So I scheduled an appointment with a good orthopedic surgeon over here.

The meeting went a little like this. "You have damaged the bicep muscle that runs up into your shoulder. However, I cannot determine the severity. You don't appear to have extensive pain so it is possibly only frayed or has a small tear, in which case physical therapy will heal it. Alternately, you might have really ripped it, in which case you'll need surgery and physical therapy. Given that you don't appear to have extensive pain, I think we should try physical therapy first."

"It's popping too."

"Ok, MRI it is."

"But you just said 'physical therapy'."

"You just said 'popping'."

He had me there. I had just said 'popping'. Why had I said popping? Why, oh why? I did not like the thought of an MRI. I liked it even less when he told me I needed a special MRI where they would have to inject me first, as I hate needles, and I absolutely hated the concept of it when I learned that the injection fluid will make me burn inside. At this point, I really wondered why the hell I hadn't kept the whole popping business to myself, and why couldn't they give me a solution that wouldn't burn.

The MRI was scheduled for last week, but the night before I went, I received a phone call. The MRI room had sprung a leak that day during a ferocious rain storm we were experiencing and the machine was damaged. So my scan was delayed ... until today. In a couple of hours, I'll be going in, popping a Valium and preparing for something that I'm really not looking forward to. I was doing pretty well at feeling sorry for myself until I received a phone call yesterday from my friend, who informed me that our mutual friend had just been a really bad car accident. Now it's hard for me to feel squeamish and not feel guilty.