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Dept. of Some Days the Bear Bites You
Friday, 31 January 2020 05:08 pmSo Today ...
- Brexit took place.
- The U.S. Senate voted - narrowly, and with two GOP Senators voting against it - to hide their eyes and not hear from witnesses.
- And I discovered purely by accident, that an old friend, with whom I'd kept in touch only by Christmas and holiday cards, died last July. Folks, don't let friendships become once a year things.
Dept. of I Refuse
Wednesday, 22 January 2020 08:25 pmGuess Who Isn't Watching the Senate Impeachment "Trial"?
(My Best Beloved is watching it from start to damn near finish, as he did with the House proceedings. I remember when he'd side eye me for being a news wonk; part of me wants to scream "Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" The other part of me is extremely proud of him. And more than a little in awe. He only shrieks occasionally.
And seriously? All those GOP Senators? Especially McConnell? Fuck 'em. I'd say shame on them, but they have no shame and no honor.)
(My Best Beloved is watching it from start to damn near finish, as he did with the House proceedings. I remember when he'd side eye me for being a news wonk; part of me wants to scream "Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" The other part of me is extremely proud of him. And more than a little in awe. He only shrieks occasionally.
And seriously? All those GOP Senators? Especially McConnell? Fuck 'em. I'd say shame on them, but they have no shame and no honor.)
Dept. of Working
Tuesday, 19 November 2019 08:08 pmIt's Been a Long Day
And I'm happy that it's been a long day. I'm working again on things that are meet and right.
Also, BB and I are heading up to Windsor, Ont. on Thursday, to complete the banking business we weren't able to do when his passport went walkabout in August. This is also good.
And now, off to supper, and some small relaxation.
Am I going to talk about the fact that a) the Trib is shutting down its Hoy Spanish-language newspaper in a town where 29 percent of the population is Latinx, and offering its remaining editorial staff - whittled down and nibbled to death by managerial ducks over the past five years - non-union jobs instead of the union jobs they have now? Or that Michael Ferro, the odious former owner of both the Sun-Times and the Tribune has sold his remaining Tribune stocks to Alden Global Capital, the monstrous vulture hedge fund that has afflicted Digital First Media?
No. No, I am not. Because that would make me scream, and I don't want to scream. Not tonight, when I've done a good day's work.
And I'm happy that it's been a long day. I'm working again on things that are meet and right.
Also, BB and I are heading up to Windsor, Ont. on Thursday, to complete the banking business we weren't able to do when his passport went walkabout in August. This is also good.
And now, off to supper, and some small relaxation.
Am I going to talk about the fact that a) the Trib is shutting down its Hoy Spanish-language newspaper in a town where 29 percent of the population is Latinx, and offering its remaining editorial staff - whittled down and nibbled to death by managerial ducks over the past five years - non-union jobs instead of the union jobs they have now? Or that Michael Ferro, the odious former owner of both the Sun-Times and the Tribune has sold his remaining Tribune stocks to Alden Global Capital, the monstrous vulture hedge fund that has afflicted Digital First Media?
No. No, I am not. Because that would make me scream, and I don't want to scream. Not tonight, when I've done a good day's work.
Dept. of What Ms Tlaib Said. Maybe.
Wednesday, 25 September 2019 07:41 pm"We're Going to Impeach the MF."
And I only put MF instead of Motherfucker, because, well, it's a headline.
I just signed off Twitter, because I realized I was starting to succumb to toxicity, even in my own left-leaning bubble.
Reading the complaint probably won't help.
And I only put MF instead of Motherfucker, because, well, it's a headline.
I just signed off Twitter, because I realized I was starting to succumb to toxicity, even in my own left-leaning bubble.
Reading the complaint probably won't help.
Dept. of Rage
Thursday, 16 May 2019 08:45 pmOf Course.
He pardoned Conrad Black.
Of course he did. Black wrote a deliberately fawning book about him. He and Black had business dealings in the past, which probably didn't hurt, but it was undoubtedly the book that did it.
Black looted the Chicago Sun-Times and its associated properties while he owned them. That's the correct term for it. Looted.. Robbed. Eviscerated. Because of his thievery - which, by the way, he did all while publicly disdaining the journalists he was robbing, and the journalism he dishonored - the company fell into a bankruptcy.
That bankruptcy ended when a buyer forced Sun-Times employees to take a "temporary" 15 percent pay cut before his group would buy the company.
We never recovered from that temporary pay cut. Neither did the Sun-Times or its associated properties. The Sun-Times eventually sold much of itself to the Tribune, after another rich man with no integrity bought the company and wrecked it further.
Still, some of us took at least a little comfort in knowing that Black, against all expectations of wealth protecting him, went to prison. It wasn't for long, certainly not nearly as long as he deserved, but he was a convicted felon.
Neil Steinberg, in his column, says he has nothing against Black. He also suggests that Black and the man who pardoned him are much the same.
I disagree with the latter assumption. I imagine that Black would disagree, polysyllabically. He knew how to flatter the subject of his book, but Black's self-aggrandizing snobbery is such that I suspect he thinks very little of him, considering him no more than a particularly notable member of the hoi polloi.
This may be why I think Robert Feder's column says it better.
As for me, I hold much against Black. It rises in my throat like bile, the rage I feel about him, the hatred I hold for him.
I know we are counseled against hate, that we are told it is corrosive to ourselves more than to those we hate. And I know that's true.
But I hate this man.
He pardoned Conrad Black.
Of course he did. Black wrote a deliberately fawning book about him. He and Black had business dealings in the past, which probably didn't hurt, but it was undoubtedly the book that did it.
Black looted the Chicago Sun-Times and its associated properties while he owned them. That's the correct term for it. Looted.. Robbed. Eviscerated. Because of his thievery - which, by the way, he did all while publicly disdaining the journalists he was robbing, and the journalism he dishonored - the company fell into a bankruptcy.
That bankruptcy ended when a buyer forced Sun-Times employees to take a "temporary" 15 percent pay cut before his group would buy the company.
We never recovered from that temporary pay cut. Neither did the Sun-Times or its associated properties. The Sun-Times eventually sold much of itself to the Tribune, after another rich man with no integrity bought the company and wrecked it further.
Still, some of us took at least a little comfort in knowing that Black, against all expectations of wealth protecting him, went to prison. It wasn't for long, certainly not nearly as long as he deserved, but he was a convicted felon.
Neil Steinberg, in his column, says he has nothing against Black. He also suggests that Black and the man who pardoned him are much the same.
I disagree with the latter assumption. I imagine that Black would disagree, polysyllabically. He knew how to flatter the subject of his book, but Black's self-aggrandizing snobbery is such that I suspect he thinks very little of him, considering him no more than a particularly notable member of the hoi polloi.
This may be why I think Robert Feder's column says it better.
As for me, I hold much against Black. It rises in my throat like bile, the rage I feel about him, the hatred I hold for him.
I know we are counseled against hate, that we are told it is corrosive to ourselves more than to those we hate. And I know that's true.
But I hate this man.
Dept. of Saturday
Friday, 15 February 2019 08:05 pmQuiche In the Oven
The crust is awful and patchwork, because I can't roll out a crust to save my soul, especially when it's recently thawed pie dough, but the quiche itself is going to be pretty decent, I think. And I managed to clean up the kitchen (more or less; I'm going to get BB to clean the frying pan in which I tried the bacon), and I'll be setting the table soon. This is all good. especially since I spent a lot of the day driving to get groceries, or laying low because of a headache that seems to want to become something more.
Poor BB is fighting some ailment of his own, and I very much hope to at least cosset him with dinner. And then, I'll settle down with a new drink I learned how to make yesterday; gin in a martini glass that's been coated with four dashes of bitters. Last night I made it with orange bitters, although it's supposed to be made with angostura. Tonight, I'm going to try two mini-drinks, one with the proper recipe and one with the orange bitters, to see which I think is better.
I had one of my acrylic nails peel off today. It's the first time that has ever happened, and my finger looks naked without a nail. I'm calling the nail salon tomorrow (they're open on Sundays) to see if I can get in.
Also in the "First World Pampering" category, we've made an appointment with a new groomer for Vincent. He doesn't know it yet. but he's going to get a bath, de-matted properly, and be gifted with at least a modified lion cut to prevent more matting. I'm sure he'll be very excited.
Yesterday, there was a mass shooting in Aurora, IL, not far from Chicago. A man who'd just been fired from his job, and who had a history of violence, domestic and otherwise, who'd had his FOID card revoked, but who still had a gun, left the building and came back and killed five people. He's dead. too. Six sets of parents and kids, six mothers, sisters, wives. all with gaping. bleeding holes in their souls. Because someone had easy access to guns. Another day in America.
Fuck the NRA and fuck the culture it has nurtured.
The crust is awful and patchwork, because I can't roll out a crust to save my soul, especially when it's recently thawed pie dough, but the quiche itself is going to be pretty decent, I think. And I managed to clean up the kitchen (more or less; I'm going to get BB to clean the frying pan in which I tried the bacon), and I'll be setting the table soon. This is all good. especially since I spent a lot of the day driving to get groceries, or laying low because of a headache that seems to want to become something more.
Poor BB is fighting some ailment of his own, and I very much hope to at least cosset him with dinner. And then, I'll settle down with a new drink I learned how to make yesterday; gin in a martini glass that's been coated with four dashes of bitters. Last night I made it with orange bitters, although it's supposed to be made with angostura. Tonight, I'm going to try two mini-drinks, one with the proper recipe and one with the orange bitters, to see which I think is better.
I had one of my acrylic nails peel off today. It's the first time that has ever happened, and my finger looks naked without a nail. I'm calling the nail salon tomorrow (they're open on Sundays) to see if I can get in.
Also in the "First World Pampering" category, we've made an appointment with a new groomer for Vincent. He doesn't know it yet. but he's going to get a bath, de-matted properly, and be gifted with at least a modified lion cut to prevent more matting. I'm sure he'll be very excited.
Yesterday, there was a mass shooting in Aurora, IL, not far from Chicago. A man who'd just been fired from his job, and who had a history of violence, domestic and otherwise, who'd had his FOID card revoked, but who still had a gun, left the building and came back and killed five people. He's dead. too. Six sets of parents and kids, six mothers, sisters, wives. all with gaping. bleeding holes in their souls. Because someone had easy access to guns. Another day in America.
Fuck the NRA and fuck the culture it has nurtured.
Dept. of Jesus Wept
Tuesday, 5 February 2019 10:42 pmSOTU
Idea for #soturesponse.
He lied. He lies. He will lie again.
Oh, and he's a fucking lying POS.
Idea for #soturesponse.
He lied. He lies. He will lie again.
Oh, and he's a fucking lying POS.
Dept. of JFC
Wednesday, 30 January 2019 06:34 pmFrozen Pipe Fun
Woke up this morning and went into the kitchen to put some coffee on, and discovered that the hot water pipe leading to the kitchen sink faucet wasn't working and was either simply frozen, or frozen and burst. This took place despite me having turned the faucet on to dribble the night before, in hopes of avoiding just such a scenario.
We couldn't identify the frozen pipe; it wasn't any of the ones easily accessible under the sink, which means it's probably in the wall, which is hard by the outdoors (and that's probably why it froze.) We've had an electric heater on almost non-stop under the sink, to no avail, and we can't use a hair dryer because we can't access the affected pipe. The other faucets in the house aren't affected, so it has to be fairly localized, but still ... no luck in finding it.
We're hoping that the heater, which is now pointed directly at the back wall, keeps the pipe from bursting, even if it doesn't thaw the ice inside. But it looks increasingly likely that we'll have to call a plumber. Since tomorrow is going to be almost as cold as today, when our area got no warmer than -11F, I'm guessing that plumbers really can't do their best work tomorrow. Plus, since there are probably people all over the city with similar situations, once plumbers do come out, there will be a hell of a long wait time. My guess is that we won't be able to get a plumber out until at least late Friday.
And by that time, the pipe may well burst, if it hasn't already. Bob did some checking, and the estimates for fixing something like that hover around $15,000, he said.
Which we don't actually have easily at hand.
Augh.
Woke up this morning and went into the kitchen to put some coffee on, and discovered that the hot water pipe leading to the kitchen sink faucet wasn't working and was either simply frozen, or frozen and burst. This took place despite me having turned the faucet on to dribble the night before, in hopes of avoiding just such a scenario.
We couldn't identify the frozen pipe; it wasn't any of the ones easily accessible under the sink, which means it's probably in the wall, which is hard by the outdoors (and that's probably why it froze.) We've had an electric heater on almost non-stop under the sink, to no avail, and we can't use a hair dryer because we can't access the affected pipe. The other faucets in the house aren't affected, so it has to be fairly localized, but still ... no luck in finding it.
We're hoping that the heater, which is now pointed directly at the back wall, keeps the pipe from bursting, even if it doesn't thaw the ice inside. But it looks increasingly likely that we'll have to call a plumber. Since tomorrow is going to be almost as cold as today, when our area got no warmer than -11F, I'm guessing that plumbers really can't do their best work tomorrow. Plus, since there are probably people all over the city with similar situations, once plumbers do come out, there will be a hell of a long wait time. My guess is that we won't be able to get a plumber out until at least late Friday.
And by that time, the pipe may well burst, if it hasn't already. Bob did some checking, and the estimates for fixing something like that hover around $15,000, he said.
Which we don't actually have easily at hand.
Augh.
Dept. of AAAAAAAaaaaaa
Thursday, 27 September 2018 11:11 amMemo To Self:
When you see commentaries that mention "Moffat" and "Doctor Who" prominently in the description or summary, think seriously about not reading them. The odds are high they will feature an author inveighing against The Moff, with others nodding their heads in agreement; by excising such commentaries from your day, you will lower your blood pressure and quite likely save your computer keyboard and screen from spittle and/or breakage.
(Yeah, yeah, folks have a right to their opinion, and I have f'listers who share that opinion. And sure, enough people hew to the Awful Moff School of Whovian Obsession that I could very well be wrong in my love for his run. I don't fucking care. And I get incredibly tired of swimming through the various One Minute Moff Hates. They make it hard-to-impossible for me to react and interact with thoughtful critiques of Seasons Five through Ten. They're out there, but when I've had to slog through page after page after rant after polemic about Moffat to get to them, I want to stab my eyes with a fork.)
When you see commentaries that mention "Moffat" and "Doctor Who" prominently in the description or summary, think seriously about not reading them. The odds are high they will feature an author inveighing against The Moff, with others nodding their heads in agreement; by excising such commentaries from your day, you will lower your blood pressure and quite likely save your computer keyboard and screen from spittle and/or breakage.
(Yeah, yeah, folks have a right to their opinion, and I have f'listers who share that opinion. And sure, enough people hew to the Awful Moff School of Whovian Obsession that I could very well be wrong in my love for his run. I don't fucking care. And I get incredibly tired of swimming through the various One Minute Moff Hates. They make it hard-to-impossible for me to react and interact with thoughtful critiques of Seasons Five through Ten. They're out there, but when I've had to slog through page after page after rant after polemic about Moffat to get to them, I want to stab my eyes with a fork.)
Dept. of This World Is Too Much With Me
Thursday, 28 June 2018 05:11 pmEnemies of the American People, That's Us
Yesterday sucked hard enough to make getting to sleep difficult; the Janus decision on the part of the no-longer-afraid-to-show-their-conservative-animus SCOTUS, their upholding of the Muslim ban; the announced retirement of Justice Kennedy, which puts other civil rights, like Roe V Wade, in direct peril.
And today, this happened.
While my reportorial caution reminds me that I can't assume the reason was because the shooter hated journalists - my other thought would be a particularly enthusiastic domestic violence perpetrator - my gut tells me it was. This is, after all, the nation whose president told his besotted followers that editors, reporters, photographers, etc. were the enemies of America.
They're not the types who'd believe what Capital Gazette editor Jimmy Debutts said in the 11th and 12th paragraphs of the main Washington Post story. More fools they.
I'll be relieved if some other cause motivated the shooter, and that says something awful about both my desensitization and to this murderous American ecosystem.
ETA: Yep, looking more likely to be a patriotic Fourth Estate hater. Imagine my surprise.
And Harlan Ellison has died.
Yesterday sucked hard enough to make getting to sleep difficult; the Janus decision on the part of the no-longer-afraid-to-show-their-conservative-animus SCOTUS, their upholding of the Muslim ban; the announced retirement of Justice Kennedy, which puts other civil rights, like Roe V Wade, in direct peril.
And today, this happened.
While my reportorial caution reminds me that I can't assume the reason was because the shooter hated journalists - my other thought would be a particularly enthusiastic domestic violence perpetrator - my gut tells me it was. This is, after all, the nation whose president told his besotted followers that editors, reporters, photographers, etc. were the enemies of America.
They're not the types who'd believe what Capital Gazette editor Jimmy Debutts said in the 11th and 12th paragraphs of the main Washington Post story. More fools they.
I'll be relieved if some other cause motivated the shooter, and that says something awful about both my desensitization and to this murderous American ecosystem.
ETA: Yep, looking more likely to be a patriotic Fourth Estate hater. Imagine my surprise.
And Harlan Ellison has died.
Dept. of FFS
Monday, 11 June 2018 10:18 pmHow Long, Oh Lord?
I'm tempted to repeat Robert Benchley's rather biblical review of Abie's Irish Rose, if only so that I can snicker a little in the midst of my fear.
He meets with one of the most unstable and despicable heads of state on the planet (with the exception of himself), after plowing through the G7 conference with even more of his patented diplomatic skills. (And while I'm not altogether fond of Justin Trudeau, I'm cheering him on for the way he responded to the White House Resident.)
Meanwhile, the Supreme Court narrowly upholds Ohio's voter suppression. And Jeff Sessions did this.
This is some sort of hell, and we're still in it. How many months to November?
I'm tempted to repeat Robert Benchley's rather biblical review of Abie's Irish Rose, if only so that I can snicker a little in the midst of my fear.
He meets with one of the most unstable and despicable heads of state on the planet (with the exception of himself), after plowing through the G7 conference with even more of his patented diplomatic skills. (And while I'm not altogether fond of Justin Trudeau, I'm cheering him on for the way he responded to the White House Resident.)
Meanwhile, the Supreme Court narrowly upholds Ohio's voter suppression. And Jeff Sessions did this.
This is some sort of hell, and we're still in it. How many months to November?
Dept. of Welcome to the Working Week
Monday, 23 April 2018 07:36 amPost Weekend Fun Roundup
As Elvis Costello said, welcome to the working week - know it don't thrill you, hope it won't kill you.
As weekends go, this past one was less than optimal. That was due to the preceding week also being less than optimal. Still, there were glints and glimmers of better things hiding in both.
First, the most unimpressive part of the weekend. Bob's back in hospital. He started developing what we both fervently hoped was a chest cold back last Wednesday. Fervent hopes, as they often are, weren't worth the aether upon which they were wished. After increasing chest congestion, and a Saturday night during which, Bob admitted in the morning, he managed to scare himself by being almost unable to catch his breath after walking to the bathroom and back, we headed for the emergency room. The good news: it isn't pneumonia, according to the x-ray. Also good, he got admitted and into a room in only 4.5 hours, rather than the slightly more than 4.5 hours last time. Sigh. I'm hoping that he'll be sprung today, but I really want the infection (yes, they've decided that's what he has. Viral? Bacterial? \_(' ')_/ So, more antibiotics that he might not actually need. Argh.)
This all took place against a background of, well ... my back. It's in what I think of as "moderate pre-spasm" mode. I know, as sure as the sun rises in the east but doesn't warm Chicago up, that it's stress. Last week was a better week with The Boss from Heck, and we even had a weekly meeting that was almost pleasant, but the underlying low-level tension and irritation finally presented as back fun. I'm attempting to keep it at bay, because I'm going to try to work today.
Jerry Minkkinen's memorial was Saturday; one of my newsroom and Guild friends, Mike, came with me all the way to Farthest Schaumburg for the memorial. It was almost like old home week. A lot of hugs from Guild folks I hadn't seen in years. We agreed it sucked that we had to see each other for this reason, but it was good to see each other, nonetheless. And we got a chance to tell Jerry's son and brother how much Jerry meant to us. In fact, the president of the national News Guild flew in from D.C. just for the memorial, and he spoke, telling the family that Jerry had sacrificed much of his family life to the union. "I want to tell you that I'm sorry for that," the president said, before going on to say that their sacrifice had helped untold numbers of people, but that the apology was needed. I thought that was spot on, and not something a lot of uinion folks would have said.
Alright, it's back to work/hospital. We here at Casa Kaffyr sure do know how to have fun.
As Elvis Costello said, welcome to the working week - know it don't thrill you, hope it won't kill you.
As weekends go, this past one was less than optimal. That was due to the preceding week also being less than optimal. Still, there were glints and glimmers of better things hiding in both.
First, the most unimpressive part of the weekend. Bob's back in hospital. He started developing what we both fervently hoped was a chest cold back last Wednesday. Fervent hopes, as they often are, weren't worth the aether upon which they were wished. After increasing chest congestion, and a Saturday night during which, Bob admitted in the morning, he managed to scare himself by being almost unable to catch his breath after walking to the bathroom and back, we headed for the emergency room. The good news: it isn't pneumonia, according to the x-ray. Also good, he got admitted and into a room in only 4.5 hours, rather than the slightly more than 4.5 hours last time. Sigh. I'm hoping that he'll be sprung today, but I really want the infection (yes, they've decided that's what he has. Viral? Bacterial? \_(' ')_/ So, more antibiotics that he might not actually need. Argh.)
This all took place against a background of, well ... my back. It's in what I think of as "moderate pre-spasm" mode. I know, as sure as the sun rises in the east but doesn't warm Chicago up, that it's stress. Last week was a better week with The Boss from Heck, and we even had a weekly meeting that was almost pleasant, but the underlying low-level tension and irritation finally presented as back fun. I'm attempting to keep it at bay, because I'm going to try to work today.
Jerry Minkkinen's memorial was Saturday; one of my newsroom and Guild friends, Mike, came with me all the way to Farthest Schaumburg for the memorial. It was almost like old home week. A lot of hugs from Guild folks I hadn't seen in years. We agreed it sucked that we had to see each other for this reason, but it was good to see each other, nonetheless. And we got a chance to tell Jerry's son and brother how much Jerry meant to us. In fact, the president of the national News Guild flew in from D.C. just for the memorial, and he spoke, telling the family that Jerry had sacrificed much of his family life to the union. "I want to tell you that I'm sorry for that," the president said, before going on to say that their sacrifice had helped untold numbers of people, but that the apology was needed. I thought that was spot on, and not something a lot of uinion folks would have said.
Alright, it's back to work/hospital. We here at Casa Kaffyr sure do know how to have fun.
Dept. of Illness
Wednesday, 21 February 2018 04:27 pmKeeping It Brief
Bob's in hospital with pneumonia, and possibly influenza as well.
I took him in to the emergency room at midnight Tuesday-Wednesday; he'd developed what we both hoped wasn't flu last Friday; fever, aches, etc. He went to ground and stayed in bed all Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. He was incredibly congested, with a cough that brought up ugly stuff, and had difficulty breathing - not good for someone with emphysema - but Tuesday night, he got up and thought he was doing better. Until I noticed his breathing was even more shallow, he was unsteady on his feet, and he wasn't making any sense anymore. Not enough oxygen.
They admitted him quickly, which meant that they were still waiting for the bureaucratic crap to be completed at 3 a.m. Bob sent me home while I could still drive, and he finally got a room at 4 a.m. I got into bed at 4:30 a.m., slept like shit until 10 a.m. and have largely been at the hospital since noon. I'm back now. Took today off, but probably can't do that tomorrow. Andy and Em will keep me a little company tonight, and I'll fall into bed at 9 or so.
Wish him luck, please. He hates hospitals - they haven't treated him well, even though they've saved his life a couple of times. Hospital psychosis is not a good thing. He doesn't sleep at hospitals, which is a sure route to hospital psychosis.
I'm exhausted. I'm calling it a day. Guess I got wordy after all.
Bob's in hospital with pneumonia, and possibly influenza as well.
I took him in to the emergency room at midnight Tuesday-Wednesday; he'd developed what we both hoped wasn't flu last Friday; fever, aches, etc. He went to ground and stayed in bed all Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. He was incredibly congested, with a cough that brought up ugly stuff, and had difficulty breathing - not good for someone with emphysema - but Tuesday night, he got up and thought he was doing better. Until I noticed his breathing was even more shallow, he was unsteady on his feet, and he wasn't making any sense anymore. Not enough oxygen.
They admitted him quickly, which meant that they were still waiting for the bureaucratic crap to be completed at 3 a.m. Bob sent me home while I could still drive, and he finally got a room at 4 a.m. I got into bed at 4:30 a.m., slept like shit until 10 a.m. and have largely been at the hospital since noon. I'm back now. Took today off, but probably can't do that tomorrow. Andy and Em will keep me a little company tonight, and I'll fall into bed at 9 or so.
Wish him luck, please. He hates hospitals - they haven't treated him well, even though they've saved his life a couple of times. Hospital psychosis is not a good thing. He doesn't sleep at hospitals, which is a sure route to hospital psychosis.
I'm exhausted. I'm calling it a day. Guess I got wordy after all.
Dept. of Bloody Thoughts and Useless Prayers
Friday, 16 February 2018 10:12 pmBecause I Can No Longer Find the Words
Not any more. So here are two people who say it better than I can.
( Under here )
Not any more. So here are two people who say it better than I can.
( Under here )
Dept. of Pure Evil
Saturday, 2 December 2017 12:56 amSo the Senate Passed "Tax Reform"
Evil. Mother. Fuckers.
Evil. Mother. Fuckers.
Dept. of Bad News
Wednesday, 25 October 2017 11:39 amBecause Of Course This Would Happen
I got home from last night's meeting this morning at 2:30 a.m., where BB met me with the news that Dr. Wood, Phil's surgeon, had called in my absence. Not only had the tumor gone from "probably cancer" to "definitely cancer," the cancer had metastacized to his lymph nodes. She recommended chemo and radiation.
We don't have the money. We spent what we could on his ear, after being assured that the tumor was generally localized and taking it out would probably prevent more cancer. I should have paid attention to the "generally" and the "probably," I guess.
We'll call the oncologist to see if we can get even a rough estimate of expected lifespan. As long as he's not in pain, I don't want to do anything. But once that kicks in, we call the goodbye vet for her second visit to us in a year.
Learning all of this at 2:30 a.m., and seeing how it affected BB was bad enough. Now I have to write a story from last night's meeting, and my brain is not working. I have a 3 p.m. deadline. I want to get it done before that because I want to crawl into a hole.
I got home from last night's meeting this morning at 2:30 a.m., where BB met me with the news that Dr. Wood, Phil's surgeon, had called in my absence. Not only had the tumor gone from "probably cancer" to "definitely cancer," the cancer had metastacized to his lymph nodes. She recommended chemo and radiation.
We don't have the money. We spent what we could on his ear, after being assured that the tumor was generally localized and taking it out would probably prevent more cancer. I should have paid attention to the "generally" and the "probably," I guess.
We'll call the oncologist to see if we can get even a rough estimate of expected lifespan. As long as he's not in pain, I don't want to do anything. But once that kicks in, we call the goodbye vet for her second visit to us in a year.
Learning all of this at 2:30 a.m., and seeing how it affected BB was bad enough. Now I have to write a story from last night's meeting, and my brain is not working. I have a 3 p.m. deadline. I want to get it done before that because I want to crawl into a hole.
Dept. of Cat Purgatory.
Thursday, 19 October 2017 08:36 amThe Good News Is...
Phil's home, and with both external ears. I am amazed at the lack of communication that can occur over the phone; I specifically heard the other doctor say the external ear had been removed, and I specifically asked about that - and was told yes, the ear was taken. Apparently "external ear" means different things to cat owners and vets. No matter: that's good.
What's making this an awful, bad, no good day for everyone is the medication regimen. We're supposed to give him an antibiotic once every twelve hours, and two painkillers: gabapentin, again, once every 12 hours, and hydromorphone, once every 6-8 hours.
Since we got him home yesterday afternoon, we've gotten one gabapentin dose in him, and one antibiotic dose, and, we think, one hydromorphone dose. He is horrible about opening his mouth, and literally twists himself upside down to avoid doing so. We're supposed to keep up this regimen every day for five days (the hydromorphone) and 10 days (the antibiotic). This may or may not happen. He's gotten so stressed; at one point, losing control of his bowels. Poor little guy. Jesus ....
Also? He has to wear the cone of shame for 10 days, except when we take it off him to let him eat, drink, and - ha - take his medicine. The poor guy is running into walls and everything else, we've had to take the top off the catbox because he can't get in with it on, and he definitely can't get up or down to places he normally wants to go.
He slept on me for much of last night, after I lifted him to the bed. I didn't get much sleep, nor did BB. I called in sick today, although I'll try to get at least a couple of things done; if the hydromorphone we think we got into him 15 minutes ago takes hold and he sleeps again, I'm going to catch a few wink.
It's like having a baby again. Except one with claws, some teeth, a lot of stress, and stitches.
Gah.
Phil's home, and with both external ears. I am amazed at the lack of communication that can occur over the phone; I specifically heard the other doctor say the external ear had been removed, and I specifically asked about that - and was told yes, the ear was taken. Apparently "external ear" means different things to cat owners and vets. No matter: that's good.
What's making this an awful, bad, no good day for everyone is the medication regimen. We're supposed to give him an antibiotic once every twelve hours, and two painkillers: gabapentin, again, once every 12 hours, and hydromorphone, once every 6-8 hours.
Since we got him home yesterday afternoon, we've gotten one gabapentin dose in him, and one antibiotic dose, and, we think, one hydromorphone dose. He is horrible about opening his mouth, and literally twists himself upside down to avoid doing so. We're supposed to keep up this regimen every day for five days (the hydromorphone) and 10 days (the antibiotic). This may or may not happen. He's gotten so stressed; at one point, losing control of his bowels. Poor little guy. Jesus ....
Also? He has to wear the cone of shame for 10 days, except when we take it off him to let him eat, drink, and - ha - take his medicine. The poor guy is running into walls and everything else, we've had to take the top off the catbox because he can't get in with it on, and he definitely can't get up or down to places he normally wants to go.
He slept on me for much of last night, after I lifted him to the bed. I didn't get much sleep, nor did BB. I called in sick today, although I'll try to get at least a couple of things done; if the hydromorphone we think we got into him 15 minutes ago takes hold and he sleeps again, I'm going to catch a few wink.
It's like having a baby again. Except one with claws, some teeth, a lot of stress, and stitches.
Gah.
Dept. of Union Stuff
Friday, 26 May 2017 01:01 pmMy First Day of Vacation
I am in union negotiations. Yay.
And one of the folks across the table from me is a World Class Grade A Union-Hating Dick.
A fucking dick.
I am in union negotiations. Yay.
And one of the folks across the table from me is a World Class Grade A Union-Hating Dick.
A fucking dick.
Dept. of Everything Is Just Fine
Friday, 12 May 2017 07:54 pmNo, Really. Everything Is Just Fine
For when laughter and screams of terror are just what the doctor ordered.
For when laughter and screams of terror are just what the doctor ordered.
Dept. of Once More Into the Fray
Monday, 13 March 2017 09:11 pmMy Cat is Sick Again
Alex is once again defecating - or trying to - all over the house. He's miserable. This is the third time since December, and the second time in less than two weeks. I am very worried, as much for BB as for Alex, because he loves that cat like crazy. I love him, too, but the bond they have is something quite special. I am afraid that this signals something quite serious, and that it could require very serious decisions on our part.
Damn.
Alex is once again defecating - or trying to - all over the house. He's miserable. This is the third time since December, and the second time in less than two weeks. I am very worried, as much for BB as for Alex, because he loves that cat like crazy. I love him, too, but the bond they have is something quite special. I am afraid that this signals something quite serious, and that it could require very serious decisions on our part.
Damn.
Dept. of Political Thinkey-Thoughts
Sunday, 13 November 2016 11:43 amPost Deluge Ruminations
Some of these are gathered from comments I've made in earlier post-election conversations here and on LJ. Others I've thought about more recently.
( All the bitterness, with none of the hope )
Some of these are gathered from comments I've made in earlier post-election conversations here and on LJ. Others I've thought about more recently.
( All the bitterness, with none of the hope )
Dept. of Political Thinkey-Thoughts
Sunday, 9 October 2016 08:35 pmDebate, Part Two
You know abso-damn-lutely nothing - NOTHING - about Canada's health care, says the woman whose Canadian mum was beautifully cared for in her last days, who got care both quickly and thoroughly.
Fuck. You.
No, unfuck you. I don't want you enjoying sex.
You know abso-damn-lutely nothing - NOTHING - about Canada's health care, says the woman whose Canadian mum was beautifully cared for in her last days, who got care both quickly and thoroughly.
Fuck. You.
No, unfuck you. I don't want you enjoying sex.
