5009 Rambling

xxxday, September 1x, 2015

...electricity is a myth. Everything actually runs off smoke. We know this

because once you let the smoke out of something, it doesn't work any more.

-- "SteveM", in a comment in Scienceblogs.com http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2010/07/frickin_electricity_how_does_i.php

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Regular gas is less than $2 now!  Something like $1.95.  When did that happen?  Why?  I don't understand.

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I had long ago noticed that every time I wash my hair, it's longer than before I washed it.  It's especially noticeable now that it's so long that I can get away with washing it once a week, so the increase in length is almost 2 inches.

After all these years, I think I've figured out why.

My hair isn't curly -- it's crinkly.  So over a week, the individual hairs crinkle up, making the whole look shorter without showing obvious curl.  Then when it gets washed, it straightens out.

Weird. 

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Are crickets more populous in the late summer and fall?  They're all over outside now.  Inside, I'm finding, um, pieces of crickets everywhere, upstairs and down.  When Jasper's not sleeping or begging, he's hunting.  He doesn't eat them, he just takes them apart and then looks disappointed when they can't hop anymore.

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A hitherto unconsidered benefit of retirement:
I took Hal in for his annual service.  Well, Hal's records report that since purchase, I have driven him an average of 67 miles per week.  No wonder I hadn't noticed that the cost of gasoline had gone down.  In the past 4.5 years, he has had four oil changes.  ...Almost balances out the six (or more? I've lost count) new tires.

I should report that mileage to the insurance company - they might lower my premium.

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I don't know why anyone puts "THIS SIDE UP" and arrows on boxes.  I do almost all my shopping online, so I get about four boxes dropped on my porch per month, and I have never yet seen even one box with the arrows pointing up.  (UPS, are you listening?)

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I want to buy Nugget some toys I loved when I was a child, and Daughter also had.  I'm going slightly crazy because I can't find the right things new anywhere online.

I want a pump-type spinning top, you know, the big one that sings, and flaps open inside a clear plastic top showing spinning colored panels that blend as it spins to make changing colors.  All I can find are solid metal with stuff painted on top.  They sing, but nothing else interesting happens.  I did find one on Amazon that almost fits the bill, but Amazon has "temporarily" suspended sale of that item due to some kind of shipping problem.

I want a nice kaleidoscope.  The case doesn't matter, but it must have translucent random-shaped colorful bits in the turning part.  No, I don't want opaque beads.  Duh?  Opaque?  Beads?  I don't want paper clips and other metal bits.  I don't want a solid lead-set stained glass wheel that doesn't give an ever-changing pattern.  I don't want a tube that gets pushed through the viewing chamber.  I don't want one so small that there is little in the chamber.  I also don't want to pay over $30 - I'm not looking for artwork here.  Remember the ones with odd-shaped bits of glass that shifted into view as you turned the end, and made glowing blossoms that never repeated?  Good interesting ones don't seem to exist anymore, not new ones, anyway.  I don't know - maybe kids were taking them apart and getting cut by the shifty bits or something.  I ended up buying a "vintage '50s" one on eBay.  

Still looking for the top.
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4096 Splish-splash.

Thursday, August 27, 2015

There is no “i” in “team”, but there's a “u” in “people who don't understand

the difference between orthography and meaning.”

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I had mentioned that I had a problem with Jasper splashing and dumping his water all over the floor.  It's been about six weeks since I found the solution, and it does seem to be working.  (Photo from Amazon.com, "Greedy Pup-Best Slow Eating Bowl on The Market", by Greedy Pup.

It's meant to slow down dogs who eat too fast.  For Jasper, I fill it with water to the tops of the bumps.  It's a hair over 9 inches wide and heavy, so he can't tip it, drag it, or pick it up.  The bumps prevent his making tidal waves, but still allow him to make satisfying splish-splash noises, and there's enough room between the bumps that he can drink easily.  The sides are not quite high enough to bother his cyst. 

It wasn't his splashing that bothered me, it was his emptying the water all over the floor, so this seems to be a good compromise.
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4093 Pumpkin plant

Monday, August 24, 2015

If the answer has to be now, it has to be no.

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I have another volunteer pumpkin in front of my porch.  I put the old Halloween pumpkins (painted by the Nugget, not cut) near the mailbox every fall so the squirrels can eat it, and ONE seed (why only one?) sprouts.

We've had a lot of very strong sun and little actual soaking rain, and I am amused at the way the pumpkin vine has adapted.  This is the way the first leaves looked - large and flat:

Every morning by mid-morning they were wilted and folding from too much sun.  That struck me as odd at first, since they are field plants and made for sun, but I guess in the field they shade and humidify each other.

This is what the second growth of leaves look like.  The photo looks more green than they actually are.  In life, they look mostly white with scatterings of green.

Apparently the plant decided that wasn't quite working, either.

The third set of leaves look like this, more leathery with deeper cuts in the lobes.  (Notice the white one to the right.  That's a better representation of set #2.)

I guess the plant decided, "Hey, we've got an idea here!", because the fourth and final iteration of leaf style looks like this.  Lots of wrinkles, very deep cuts between the lobes, ideal for the full hot sun and scant water conditions.

Congratulations, pumpkin!  It looks like an entirely different plant.

Now, if only it could similarly adjust the blossom situation.  Pumpkins will put out separate male blossoms and female blossoms, both on the same plant.  However, to ensure healthy cross-pollination, a particular plant will put out only all male or all female flowers on any particular day, and the blossoms last only through the morning.  So it's very difficult for a plant to self pollinate.  In a field of pumpkins, this isn't a problem, since they can pollinate each other.  For one lonely plant, it's celibacy.

Last year I checked every morning, and a few times I found like one female, or one male, in the midst of a sea of the opposite sex, and I played bumblebee myself.  I think we had two pumpkins out of it.  So far this year, the segregation has been strict.  In fact, so far it's been almost entirely male.

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I had mentioned Jasper hunting the cricket.  The cricket has disappeared, but Jasper is ever vigilant, in case it comes back.

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4085 A playdate for my cat?

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

The little boat floated gently across the still pond exactly like a bowling ball doesn't.

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About three weeks ago I noticed that every late afternoon into the evening, Jasper was showing interest in a corner in the kitchen, the corner between the dishwasher and the stove.  There's a small stick vacuum cleaner leaning against the counter in front of the dishwasher, and a round library kick-stool in the corner.  And Jasper would crouch there, ears up, tail flicking, for an hour or two or three, until he'd lose interest.

About two weeks ago I found out what was attracting his interest.  It's a cricket, a small black cricket.  It's probably female, because it doesn't "sing".  It never strays from that corner of the kitchen, stays in a 4' by 4' square which extends to under the Nugget's play table.

Jasper watches it intensely, chases it and bats at it when it moves, stares at the stove, or stool, or dishwasher when it hides under one of them, and scrabbles after it when it dares to go as far as Nugget's table.

I'm surprised that it has stayed in that corner.  I'm surprised that Jasper hasn't caught it.  I'm surprised that it has lived this long.  I don't mind it as long as it stays in the kitchen.  In fact, I often feel guilty that poor Jasper doesn't get enough physical or mental exercise (older cats tend to lose interest in toys once they figure out how they work), so I'm grateful to the cricket.

If the cricket ever disappears, I think maybe I'll buy Jasper another cricket from a pet shop - they stock them for feeding lizards and stuff - if there's any way I can be assured of getting a female (quiet) one.  

Only problem is, how do I make it stay in the kitchen?
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4074 Vet visit

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

"It is not necessary to understand things in order to argue about them."

--Pierre Beaumarchais--

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The vet-in-the-van came today, for Daughter's extremely old lady cat, the one who never leaves the master bedroom, and snarls and spits at everyone.  Vet says hairballs (probably).  Schmeck is the tiniest adult cat I've ever seen.  She's a gazillion years old, so who knows what might be going on.  Daughter also made an appointment for my Jasper, to get the cyst in his neck drained again.

Jasper is very good for the vet, almost like he's in shock or something, and when the visit is over he is very happy to go into the carrier for the long trip from the street back to our front door --- but initially getting him into the carrier to get him out to the van at the curb is a different matter.  I have multiple puncture wounds and scratches on my right shoulder and my upper back.  He was determined to climb up and over me to get away from the carrier.  I should be grateful it's only scratches - at least he didn't bite.

It looks like we'll have to get that cyst drained every three to four months.
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4070 Hairy legs!

Thursday, July 16, 2015

"At least two-thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice

and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity: idealism, dogmatism

and proselytizing zeal on behalf of religious or political ideas."

--Aldous Huxley--

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I hadn't noticed how much Jasper rubs against my legs.

I've been wearing "travel knit" pants almost constantly for many years now.  They are kind of like spandex, but loose and drapey, and very comfortable.  And they don't hold cat fur.  Or much of anything, for that matter.  

The past few days I've been wearing leggings (with long, loose tunics or caftan-like tops).  The leggings have a matte finish.

This afternoon as I was heading out the door to go to the store, I happened to glance in the mirror and was shocked to find that my supposed-to-be black legs were gray from mid-calf down!

They were LOADED with fur.

Since then, I've been conscious of Jasper loving me.  When I walk, he walks right next to me, leaning into the side of my leg.  When I stop, he coils around the front of my legs, then around the back, then the front, and so on until I start moving again.  If I've been out, when I come back in the door, he rubs against front and back, and I've unconsciously developed the habit of standing still just inside the door until he's finished, before moving down the hall, with him leaning against my side.

I never really noticed, because he never impedes my steps. He's never in front of my step. He's very gentle and subtle about it.

Weird.

He's very good about stairs, though.  He gives me a good rub before I start up and then he's beside me but not rubbing me as we go up (although he always meows at me as we go up).  Going down, he again gives a good rub before I start down (I've learned to pause before the first step), and then he runs several steps ahead of me to the bottom.  

I wonder if he's "marking" me as his, or attempting to guide me, or guard me, or petting himself. 

What's really weird is that he doesn't shed much anywhere but against my legs. 

(And no, he hates being combed or brushed.)  I'm going to have to start brushing me.
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4028 I'm still here.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Not much to say. I'm doing next to nothing, except that somehow I still manage to mess up the house and create laundry --- and still can't keep up with it.

That robin I'd mentioned who was hunting in my front yard is still there every day, and he seems to have laid claim to the territory. 0ne day another robin landed on the lawn and was happily hunting, ignoring robin #1, and robin #1 had a fit. He attacked, and there was quite an aerial battle, until the stranger retreated to the lawn across the street. Later, the stranger hopped into the street, and "my" robin marched back and forth on the curb, as if to say "the line is drawn here!", until the interloper retreated.

The cyst in Jasper's throat doesn't seem to have gotten any larger since it refilled after draining, still slightly smaller than maybe a ping pong ball.  But he's still beating up on his water dish, splashing in it and emptying it all over the kitchen floor twice a day.   It's low enough that I'm sure it's not hurting his neck.  I think he's just playing.  But this is a serious problem, since it means I can't leave him alone for even a day (let alone the two or three days to go to the country house) unless I have Daughter come in twice a day to refill his dish.

No, the water dispensers won't work for two reasons - he's so timid the glug glug will scare him away from the water altogether, and if there's somehow no sound he'll just empty the entire reservoir in one play session.  'Tis a puzzlement.

I need a way to allow him to drink, but discourage him from splashing.

Daughter believes in using "correct" terms for everything with the Nugget.  The other day I was at their house and commented to Nugget that she's getting so very tall, she's already up to my chest (she'll be four next month).  She ran over to her daddy, stood close in front of him, put her hand on the top of her head, and said "Yes!  I'm already higher than Daddy's penis!"

The taste of Spring weather was short.  The past week has been very cold.  The township had an Easter Egg hunt on Saturday (Nugget's age group ran to gather eggs lying on the outfield of a baseball diamond --- the eggs were just lying there on the very short grass, plastic eggs with candy inside, it looked like the place had been scatter-bombed --- and of the hundreds of eggs, three contained gift certificates for a craft store.  Nugget got one of them.  But, it was so cold I was wearing a winter coat and a fur scarf over a heavy sweater, and after the egg gathering I went back to the car for shelter from the wind while everyone else visited the playground.

I have fallen in love with PeaPod grocery deliveries.  I'll still go to the store for anything I want to see and touch, like fresh vegetables, but I think I'm pretty well locked in for everything that comes in a package.  No more lugging dozens of bags to the car, lifting them from the trunk, and dragging them to the house.  By the time I finish a major trip on my own, I'm too tired to put the stuff away.  The products don't cost more - in fact they run a lot of sales.  There is a delivery fee and a driver tip, but they keep sending me email coupons for free delivery, and I'm more than happy to add a tip.  And the driver takes manufacturers' coupons that are deducted from the bill before it goes to the credit card.  I love it!

Which reminds me - time to put together something for dinner.  Bye!
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4023 Jasper, update

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Jasper allowed me to check his neck this morning.  There's still a lump there, a small one, maybe a bit smaller than a ping-pong ball.  I wish I'd been able to check it right after the vet had drained it yesterday,  so I'd know if this what what had been left or how much it has already refilled.

I guess I'll be finding out soon.
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4022 Jasper

Monday, March 9, 2015

Jasper had a vet appointment this morning.  Given that he freaks out in the car (as in seizures) I was very happy to find that the vet in the van is still making house calls (not in the house --  an enormous fully equipped office he parks in the driveway).

The initial possible diagnosis was very bad, but in the end, it was much better.

You have to understand Jasper to forgive me for not noticing earlier that he had a problem.  He was feral when I brought him home eight years ago. I'd been staying in a hotel near Princeton, the kind of hotel where you have a kitchen, livingroom, bedroom, and bathroom.  He was a few months old, and was begging at an entrance near the parking lot, "performing" by being cute, and sometimes getting food from guest's kitchens, and sometimes getting kicks.  It took me three days to get him to let me touch him.  When I left, he went back to the country house with me, crying and seizing.

He's very timid.  He's never been a lap cat.  The only time I'm allowed to pet him is when he comes to me and asks for it, and then only on his forehead and back.  I am not allowed to touch his undersides, legs, paws.  He doesn't want to be picked up, ever.  He won't hurt me if I do anything he doesn't like, but he will struggle to get away.  He sleeps at night against the back of my knees.  And everything new, strange, or different scares him.  He trusts me, but that has limits.

So, anyway, last week I noticed that his collar was riding unusually high on his neck, practically under his ears.  I stuck a finger under it to check that it wasn't too tight, and discovered that although it was loose, it wouldn't go down.  He actually let me run my fingers around his neck, and I discovered a lump, firm, a little larger than a golf ball, on the underside of his neck.  Took his collar off and called the vet.

I might have been able to get an earlier appointment with a different vet, but that would mean a car trip, and I decided to spare him the stress.  He's eating, drinking, piddling, pooping just fine, his activity level is the same as always, weight hasn't changed, doesn't seem to be in any distress, so I figured a few days would be fine.  Plus, one other factor that I really feel guilty about ---

I think he's had the lump for at least six weeks or so.

Jasper loves to play with his drinking water.  He has always loved to splash in it.  One front paw, then the other, over and over.  It's almost like he's fishing, or washing his paws after using the litter box.  So the water dish has high sides to lessen the splashing on the floor.  But, since like the end of January, he's been fighting with the water dish.  He'd hook it and pull it off the tray.  He'd try to dump it on the floor.  I actually saw him grasp it with one paw on the inside and one on the outside of the rim, and try to lift it.  I read online that some cats don't want the water near the food dish, so I moved it.  Didn't help.  I then put it under a chair, and he seemed to accept that.  What I did notice, but didn't think about, was that to drink, he was standing on the rail under the chair.

When I felt that lump under his throat, I immediately understood.  Reaching over the edge of the dish to drink hurt. It bumped the lump.  Poor baby!  I felt so guilty!  I gave him a shallow bowl, and he's happy.

So, the vet.  He felt the lump, and said that whatever it is, it's wrapped around Jasper's trachea.  And that area is full of important blood vessels and nerves, so no surgeon will touch it without an MRI, and even then probably not.  (His van is equipped for x-ray and minor surgery, but not fancy stuff.)  If we decide to treat it, it would probably be radiation and chemotherapy.

He thought about it a bit, and then decided to do a needle biopsy (he has a microscope) so maybe we could have some idea what we're dealing with.

The needle went in easily, the doctor's eyebrows shot up, and he aspirated about an ounce of fluid.  It's a cyst!  It didn't feel like a cyst because it was so firm.

We have options.  It will fill with fluid again, but we can just drain it again.  The only danger then is infection, which can be handled.  If it turns out that it refills too rapidly, or if it causes breathing problems, then surgery is an option.  Cysts are easier than tumors.

Poor little boy has been traumatized, plus he got his distemper shot which might make him feel a little under the weather, so he's been downstairs for a snack and for some petting only twice today.  Mostly he's hiding out on my bed.

He has no idea how relieved he should feel.
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3964 Another fish attack!

Friday, July 18, 2014

I forgot to mention back in post 3960 - once I had figured out how to download stuff to my new tablet, I went out and got the Friskies cat fishing game.  You see cats playing with it all over YouTube.  The fish swim around on the screen, and the fascinated cats pat them to make them disappear.

Well, Jasper is one of the most timid cats in the world.  The first few times I put it on the floor, he ran.  "Eek! Strange thing!"  Finally he understood it wasn't going to attack him, and the next few times he cautiously watched from around the corner.  Finally he crept up to within two feet of it, and then the damn thing MEOWED!  I hadn't noticed there were meows in addition to bubbling and splashing sounds until then.

I'll have to give him time to forget, and maybe try again with the sound off.
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3818 Mystery water

Monday, February 10, 2014

Jasper has been fussing about his water dish.  He doesn't like the water.  He doesn't want to drink it.  He splashes in it, as if he's trying to catch a fish in the bottom.  He hooks the side and drags the dish.  Since the dish is on a tray, when it crosses the side of the tray it spills all over the floor.  He'd been doing it for the past two or three weeks.

I mentioned it to Daughter, and she said two of her cats have been doing the same thing.

A mystery.

Then one day (Saturday, I think) I had left a glass of water on the counter when I went to bed, and absentmindedly drank it the next morning -- and spat it out!  It smelled and tasted strongly of iodine.

Water processing plants add iodine to the water when there's a problem with bacteria.  We've had several water main breaks this winter, one about three weeks ago just up the road, so it makes sense they may be worried about contamination.  I don't know why the iodine smell and taste gets so bad when the water isn't fresh out of the tap, but there it is....

Mystery solved.

So now I have to make sure his water is changed a few times a day.

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Speaking of water, the Thames is flooding.  Parts of England are flooded for the first time in a few hundred years.  Weird.
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3800 Jasper and the calendar

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Jasper gets dry cat food all week.  I try to buy food for him that's urinary tract friendly.  I don't especially like the idea of feeding him dry food, but I think it's better for his teeth.  Of course mice, chipmunks, and birds would be better for him all around, crunching the bones is the best thing for his teeth, but he has to kill them himself or he doesn't recognize it as food.

That's weird - that he does recognize unmoving kibbles in a bowl as food, but does not recognize a dead bird (a raw chicken wing, for example) as food.  Especially weird since he was living on his own, feral, when I caught him.  On the other hand, his "hunting" back then consisted of being cute in the parking lot of a long-term hotel, his prey being luncheon meat and cheese caged from lonely businessmen.

He gets canned food on Sunday mornings.  Sunday treat.  The little Fancy Feast fish flavors.

What amazes me is that he always knows when it's Sunday.

Back when I was working and had to be up by a certain time every day, my cat companion would always wake me at that time.  Very handy if I'd forgotten to set the alarm or something.  I haven't been working since long before I got Jasper, so he doesn't wake me.  When I finally do get up, he follows me around until I go downstairs, then he politely reminds me that it's time to feed him, and doesn't mind waiting a bit, because there are always crumbs left in the bowl anyway.

Except on Sundays.  On Sunday mornings when we get downstairs he wraps himself around my legs, and yells loudly NOW! NOW! NOW! (his meows sound just like that) and frantically leads and pushes me to the cabinet, cutting off my attempts to escape, until there's Fancy Feast in the bowl.

How does he know it's Sunday?  There are no churches near here, no bells.  No neighbors loading up the car to go to church.  I'm normally up by 7 or 8 am, so I'd notice. There's nothing different from Saturday.

Ahah!  I thought two weeks ago that I had figured it out.  I watch "Sunday Morning" on CBS at 9 am, so on Sunday I turn the TV on as soon as I go downstairs.  Sunday is the only day I turn the TV on in the morning.  That's his clue!

Last Sunday I slept in. I've been sleeping late a lot lately, since my doctor put me on a powerful decongestant for my sinuses.  Sunday, I didn't wake until after 10, and then only because he was jumping on my legs and yelling NOW! NOW! NOW!  I thought the freakin' house was on fire!

He never wakes me.  How did he know it was Sunday?
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3691 Jasper is a good boy.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

There is a direct correlation between the size of the hoop earring

and the sluttiness of the wearer.

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Jasper hadn't seen a vet since we moved him here, partly because he freaks out so badly in the car that he has seizures, so he's way behind on checkups and shots.  Two of Daughter's three cats are similarly afflicted with car anxiety, and lucky for us, there's a vet who has outfitted a large RV as an office complete with x-ray and out-patient surgery.  He parks in the driveway and you bring your beasty out.

One of Daughter's cats had injured a paw last Thursday night, so Daughter made a Friday appointment for her cat, and for Jasper.

HOW DO CATS KNOW!?  The minute I got off the phone with Daughter, Jasper's ears went up, his eyes got big, and he ran and hid.  It ended up two hours later, appointment time, with me chasing him in circles around the house.  He started to run into the laundry room, realized that was a dead end, and just as I got to the doorway he changed direction and dodged out between my legs.  I reached for him, tripped over him, and jabbed the door frame with an over-long fingernail, bending it back mid-bed.  It HURT!  And it bled.  And the most amazing thing happened.

Jasper stopped, came back, sniffed my finger and my face as I sat there on the floor whimpering, and pretty clearly asked if I was ok.  He was apologetic.  He let me pick him up and bundle him into the carrier with a minimum of fuss.

He's such a good little boy.  (Also 12 lb. and very healthy.  And fascinated by the rabies tag on his collar.)

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Last January the eye doctor mentioned that I had a spot of dry macular degeneration in each eye.  The first time a doctor had mentioned them was in the late '90s.  Oddly, not every exam has produced mention.  The spots must small enough to miss on older equipment.  I'm older now, so I guess I should pay closer attention.  I made an appointment for today to check if there had been any progression.

There's been no change.  The doctor recommended a special vitamin/mineral plus lutein supplement. 

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I mentioned a problem at the hospital.  Someone else's intake form was in my folder in the ER.

In my post of 1/02, I find in retrospect I had made excuses for some of the doctor's and the hospital's actions.  It was not true that I had any kidney failure going on.  That whole thing was because I had mentioned that my last hospital stay was because of the kidney thing, and my kidney doctor was on staff, and he sort of moved in on me and took over and tried to force me into some tests I had previously refused .  Note - he pissed me off so much in the hospital that I have fired him.  It was not tachycardia that got me the heart monitor.  I had no chemical imbalances.  My sodium was fine.  I think it was the other woman's intake form that made things look worse than they were.

It IS true that the lung guy said that it was the worst case of pneumonia he'd ever seen.  It's also true that the nurses used a phrase in front of me (they thought I was asleep) that's code for "may not last the night, check often".  However, again, that prognosis may have been in error.

For the first three days, they had me listed as diabetic.  They were poking me several times a day to check my blood sugar, and the kitchen had me on a diabetic diet - wouldn't give me Jello or ice cream when I asked for it.  I'm not diabetic!  My blood sugar stayed rock solid, until once when I had two glasses of fruit juice just to see what would happen, and it went up one point.  Then right back down again.  I DO NOT HAVE DIABETES!  Yes, I do mostly follow a diabetic diet, because my father's family is riddled with it so I'm at risk, but hey, you don't wait until you have a heart attack to follow a heart-healthy diet!  I finally convinced them it was not necessary to keep testing, and to take me off the diet restrictions.

Also for the first three days, they had me on the cardiac floor, wearing a 24-hour heart monitor, and I had many visits from a cardiologist, and several ECGs, some kind of heart sonogram, and a heart CT scan.  Duh?  When I first arrived, my pulse rate was 100, but a) I tend to historically have a rapid heart beat anyway, usually in the low 80s, b) I had just arrived at the hospital and was upset, and c) it went down to normal (for me) rapidly and stayed low.

Finally, about the third day, I asked the cardiologist (who kept urging me to make an appointment with him as soon as I got out of the hospital) why people seemed so concerned about my heart, and he said, "We have to address your chest pain."  I said, "What chest pain?  I have no chest pain.  I haven't had any chest pain."   He said, "The chest pain you reported when you arrived at the ER."  I reiterated that I'd had no chest pain, and had NOT reported chest pain.

Within hours, the monitors were removed, and I was moved from the cardiac floor to a medical floor.  The cardiologist stopped visiting, too.

So, I'm wondering if some poor woman had arrived about the same time I did, with diabetes and reporting chest pain, and because the intake forms were screwed up I was treated for her problems (you know the intake info went directly from the form into the computer), and God only knows what treatment she was getting, possibly based on my intake info.

Also, I wonder what UNNECESSARY tests, monitoring, and doctor visits MY insurance is going to be billed for (and I will be co-paying on).  I can get copies of the reports and stuff, and an itemized bill, but I wonder if there's any way to determine what was necessary, and what was the hospital's error.  You KNOW they're not going to simply admit an error.
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3539 Stress

Monday, May 28, 2012

"Knowing how to think empowers you far beyond those who know only what to think."

--  Neil deGrasse Tyson --

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Clarifying  the previous post - the guy has not had reassignment surgery.  He's just wearing women's clothes now, and "being" a woman.  He is 100% male physically, and it all works.  He never felt that he was actually female.  It's just that in addition to all the maleness, functional testes and penis and attraction to women, he also has ovaries.  Just stray accidental ovaries floating around in there, nothing else.  (It could be worse - there are people with entire stunted twins inside them.)  Anyway, the estrogen from the ovaries causes some feminizing effects.  Since discovering the existence of the ovaries, he has decided he's "actually" a woman.

Huh?  "Actually?"  I know a guy who has four thumbs, twelve fingers.  Is he "actually" alien? 

If he had the ovaries removed, he'd be the husband and father, the MAN, he thought he was, and was quite happy being, before he discovered the ovaries.  I think he's incredibly stupid, and he's getting very bad medical and psychological advice.

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

This month has disappeared so quickly.  Poof. That saddens me.  It seems that the older you get, the faster time passes.  I don't know whether it's because you get so much less done, or that over your shoulder you see a shadow catching up.  On the other hand, I don't want to get as much done as I used to.  It's time to slow down and watch the butterflies.

I've been thinking about stress, and the effect it has on health.  There's a lot more stress here than at the country house.  Not like there's stuff poking at me, it's just an atmosphere.  Days are a lot less relaxed.  It's like things are going on all the time.  There's no pause, no pause in time.  The air is dirtier.  There's an undercoat of noise.  It feels like there's more demand on me, even though no person is demanding.  And I feel like bits and pieces of my body are giving up.

The Man has been experiencing  a lot of stress, and it shows.  Nothing I can do about that, except not to add more.

Jasper doesn't seem to be more stressed.  I'm gone two or three days a week, but although that would badly distress a dog, I don't think a cat is stressed by that.  Oh, it's obvious he missed me, but that's not the same as stress.

Dogs are pack animals.  Their humans are their pack.  The most damaging thing you can do to a lone dog is to ostracize them from the pack, either tied outside, shut out of the room, or confined to a cage.  They need a pack, and they need to be with the pack, no matter what their status within the pack. 

Cats are just the opposite.  Most domestic cats come from lone-hunter stock.  They seem to like being alone, and if they don't have a lot of other stimulus, they will chose the company of one other animal or human.  (If they do have a lot of stimulus, humans become mere can openers.)  Usually a cat in a family will chose ONE of the humans to be his or her special human.  Cats don't jockey for status.  They assume their status is high, because there is no pack.  There are articles on what stresses a cat, but the articles address sudden changes, like how to handle moves, new people or pets, or schedule changes.  What about constant low level stress?

At the country house, Jasper saw birds and squirrels on the deck.  Here, he also sees other cats in the yard and on the patio, and at first it scared him so badly he pulled the curtains down.  Is that a temporary freakout, or a constant source of stress?  Can that be why whenever he is downstairs, he stays close to me?  He was more independent in the country.

I wonder if anyone has done a study on the comparative health of dogs secure within their pack (human or canine family) and dogs who are constantly stressed by being shut away from the pack.  I wonder if there have been any studies on the comparative health of cats who are the only pet, and those who don't get "alone time". (I'm thinking of those retirement homes for cats, that are supposed to be such wonderful places, but I wonder if it's actually stressing to cats who had until "retirement" always had alone-time when they wanted it.  Domestic cats are not herd animals.)

Theories?
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3450 Jasper is snoring, so no title.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle
will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.
-- The Buddha --

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Along about January 18th I got a bit concerned about Jasper. He ate some dry food, drank a little water, then promptly threw it all up. He did that once in the morning and once in the evening. Cats are famous for throwing up, but Jasper almost never throws up - probably because he almost never grooms himself, so he doesn't ingest fur. This was a new cat food, and maybe it didn't agree with him, or he didn't like it.

He seemed ok until the next evening, when I noticed he hadn't nibbled at his food since morning. The day after that I noticed that there was no new poopy in the litter box. By then it was Friday evening. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable, and his belly felt like the usual birthday balloon. If he wasn't eating, no poop wouldn't be odd. He was still drinking water and piddling.

Was he blocked? Or just registering a stubborn rejection of the new (good for kidneys, which automatically means cats will hate it) food?

Saturday, Sunday, no eating, no pooping. I decided to call the traveling "vet in a van" on Monday.

Monday morning there was poop in the litter. Why do pets and kids always get sickest just before the weekend, when you go nuts wondering what you should do, then they're all better on Monday? (Ok, not just pets and kids. If I'm going to have any kind of emergency attack, it'll happen on a weekend. Always.)

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I've given up on "lose" and "loose". Even professional writers don't seem capable of figuring it out any more. Now there's a new one. Five times in the past three days, in five different places, I've seen "mirrow" when the writer meant "mirror".

I am depressed.

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I read a natural science article on ravens and crows. I used to enjoy watching the crows from my back deck at the old house. They're playful acrobats, and smart. There were ravens on one of the trails I used to walk. They're sober, and even smarter.

I've seen the ravens at the Tower of London. Their wings are clipped, so they can't fly far, to keep them from leaving because of some old prophesy that when the ravens leave the tower, the monarchy will fall. "If the Tower of London ravens are lost or fly away, the Crown will fall and Britain with it."

Funny how nobody ever questions that prophesy. How would the ravens leaving affect the monarchy?

Leave your theories in the comments. I'll tell why tomorrow.
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3441 Crackers

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Every exit is also an entrance.

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Hmmm. I think the above quote is meant to be taken in a philosophical way, but one could get naughty about it, too.

Um, not every exit.

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I have zero creativity. Thinking up titles for these posts strains my imagination way beyond what a title is worth, 'specially since with labels I can more easily find topics than I ever could with titles, anyway. So from now on (or for however long I feel like it) I'd going to use random words for titles. Jasper sometimes puts words in my head, so I'll just use whatever he wants.

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For some odd reason today I was desperately trying to remember where we lived (when I was a kid) that we had a sandbox. I think it was probably at the Appleman's apartment in Benton, when I was in maybe fourth grade. Anyway, every so often, my mother had to go out to the sandbox and dig up the flyswatters and her spatulas. That's what she used to spank us with, and the kids would take them when she wasn't looking and bury them in the sandbox.

Don't know what made me think of that....

Hmmm. Maybe that came from Jasper, too. His litterbox needs cleaning.

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

Friday night's problem got rapidly better as the day went on yesterday. I feel fine now, but the AZO sticks still say UTI, so I guess I still have to call the doctor tomorrow.

Bleck.
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3400 Turkeys (two kinds) and dust covers

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Bad decisions make good stories.

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Want to find stuff on eBay or other auction sites that no one else is likely to bid on? Misspell the search terms. Looking for tassels? Search for "tassles" or "tastels". The seller will be desperate because no one is bidding on their items. I found a beautiful "sweeter" with sparkly "sequence" on the front.

I'm serious.

Sequence.

Well, at least they tried spell-check, I guess.

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I got a notice of a new Meetup group, "...for whoever are annoyed by incorrect grammar, for whoever are annoyed by illogical arguments, for (etc.)...."

I sent a note to the organizer, that his "whoever" should be "whomever", and "whoever/whomever" is singular, so it should be "...for whomever is annoyed by incorrect grammar." (A better fix is "...for those who are annoyed by....")

I got a response from him. He argued with me. Sigh. I did not respond. But I don't think I'll be joining that group.

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The contemplative closer on Sunday Morning is usually some idyllic natural scene. This past Sunday it was wild turkeys strutting along the edge of the woods.

Now, Jasper never watches TV. He has never shown any interest whatsoever no matter what's on the screen. (Well there was that one time we were watching the "mare cam" on the laptop, a real-time camera trained on a horse in a stall. For some reason that did fascinate him. But nothing before or since, and never anything on TV.)

Anyway, a turkey on the TV gobbled, and Jasper's head shot up from a sound nap. Instant attention. He jumped off the chair and rapidly stalked the sixteen feet to the TV, belly to the ground, tail twitching, ears up, focused on the turkey on the screen.

The segment ended before he caught one.

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

You know how hardcover books (except textbooks, reference books, and professional tomes) come with dust covers? The original purpose was to protect the hard covers from dust, dirt, and oily handprints. Then they became a vehicle for lurid eye-attracting graphics. (Are you old enough to remember when the dust cover and the hard cover underneath had exactly the same pictures and/or imprinting? When did the hard covers become so plain and cheap-looking?)

Eventually, in the used book market, a book with an intact dust jacket became worth more than another of the same condition without the jacket.

Then something weird started happening. People took the dust covers off to protect them! They'd put the dust cover back on, over the fingerprints and coffee stains, when they finished reading the book. And that book became worth more than a pristine book with a slightly worn dust cover.

I don't understand.

Of course soon and for a while this may be moot. Books are going out of fashion. The resale market is shrinking. But mark my words - just like vinyl records are coming back as collectors' items, in twenty or thirty years books will become eagerly sought-after treasures. I doubt that the condition of the dust jacket will matter.
.

Confess. Do you do protect the dust cover at the expense of the book cover?
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3291 Home again, home again, fiddle-dee-dee

Saturday, June 25, 2011

“... the error of the artisan who boasts of twenty years experience in his craft
while in fact he has only one year of experience - twenty times.”
-- Trevanian, Shibumi --

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(I know that's supposed to be "jiggity-jig", but I'm feeling more like Scarlett these days.)

I'm back in the new house, got home around 10 pm last night. I didn't bring much back with me - all my CDs (but not yet the cabinet, so they'll be stacked along a wall for a while) and some summer clothes.

I awoke to find this today:
(The pink foil next to the broom is the pot. The black circle is a cork mat the pot had been on. The thing that looks like a ball next to the mat is a hyacinth bulb. The funny things in the back are drums.)

I don't know whether the rod fell on its own, or maybe Jasper got scared by something outside and pulled it down. I must have been tired because I swear I didn't hear a thing. The damp dirt was spread across the floor, and then tracked all over by little kitty feet. It's partially swept up in this photo.

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

Daughter brought The Nugget over for a visit this morning, because they're going to Pa. for the weekend, and I hadn't seen Nugget since Tuesday. She's changed already! Her face was round, now it's more square. It got longer.

She's very social. Very strong eye contact. It's obvious she's trying to communicate with little hoots and kicks and arm-waving, and she shows her appreciation for your attention with the most beautiful sunny smiles.

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A woman I sorta almost but not quite know wrote a "complaint" for the New York Times Complaint Box, http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/06/20/complaint-box-i-dont-have-kids-deal-with-it/, about how annoying it is when people ask her why she doesn't have children. I like this, from one of the commenters:

... "Why, in a country so rich in diversity and differences, in a land where contrasts and distinctions are rejoiced and applauded, do child-free people still have to make excuses..." Because the sad truth is that Americans celebrate sameness not diversity, homogeneity not differences and imitation, not originality. Examples of intolerance, unwillingness to accept differences of religion, skin color, life-style, ethnicity, and speech are everywhere and increasing each day. Our self-aggrandizing celebration of diversity is just another feel-good myth together with "Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness", "Liberty and justice for all", and "Without regard for race, creed and color" that Americans toss around in a pathetic effort to convince themselves of this nation's superiority.

Pax,

Doug

Oh, yeah. Especially that last sentence.
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3260 Durn squirrels! And cats!

Saturday, May 2011

It's almost always dangerous to be right too soon.
David Gerrold, The Martian Child

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I put some peanuts, in shells, on the porch railing for the squirrels and for Jasper's entertainment. Then I went to the Wawa (I hate that name) to get some Greek yogurt. I was gone maybe 20 minutes.

When I returned, all my potted impatiens had been dug up, and a peanut planted in each pot.

Ok squirrels. No more nuts for you!

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

There's a very ballsy black feral cat who visits my back yard and scares the beans out of Jasper when they see each other at the window. Last night Jasper was on the dining room window sill when the black cat visited and startled him.

There was an explosion.

There was a traverse rod on the floor under that window, waiting for curtains to be chosen. You know, the kind with all the cords?

Well, when Jasper exploded from the window sill, he got tangled in the cords somehow, and in his panic he dragged the heavy rod out of the dining room, across the breakfast area floor, knocking over a stool which scared him more. The 7-foot long rod somehow got airborne going over the stool, came down on his food tray 6 feet further on, spilling his food and water all over the floor, and it then jammed in the hall doorway, with one end somehow stuck behind my desk. The other end knocked Roomba off his power base and turned him on, and with a "ta beep ta bah" Roomba took off after Jasper, who tore down the hall and up the stairs, trailing traverse cords the whole way.

The whole thing happened in an instant. All was quiet, and then suddenly three rooms were destroyed. Jasper is now afraid of the dining room. Poor timid little chicken. He did not have a good night.

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

I'd been considering befriending and semi-adopting that black cat, but you know, somehow I don't think it would work out.
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3169 Spitting

Sunday, February 20, 2011

“[That] is forbidden. But possible.”
-- Common French saying --

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I don't get into political discussions with Piper any more. He's solidly extreme right wing, sees only the wingnut viewpoint. He tries to "educate" me, to turn me from my obviously mistaken ways, but I just shake my head and change the subject.

In all the bad things that have been happening in his life right now, the good thing is that the market is picking up. He congratulated me Friday that of all his investment clients, I've been the only one who didn't panic at all back when everything was tanking. I just shrugged and assured him that everything would eventually come back. Sooner or later. Sit tight. (During the bad times he looked really bad. Discouraged. Wanted to avoid talking to his clients.)

I've made back all the money I lost during the dip, and made 3% on my investments in the past month alone. Piper wanted to give all the credit for the turnaround to his new tea bag buddies in Congress. I pointed out that yes, rich folks are brightening up. I've heard that sales of BMW, Mercedes, and Lexus are up, luxury resorts and spas are picking up again. But it's not so bright for the little folk. His buddies in Congress are making all kinds of cuts, but the programs they're cutting are all cuts to the poorer folks. Services. They're taking from the poor and giving to the rich. So yeah, naturally the rich are happy, and that's what's reflected in the market.

As Field says, "Those 235 poli-tricksters remind me of the bully that goes to the playground looking for a fight, and ignores the bigger kids shooting hoops and heads straight to the swing and jungle gym to pick on the smaller kids."

The smaller kids can't afford lobbyists.

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

I don't understand why they want to cut Social Security. Despite everything you hear, SS is not running out of money. In fact, SS has been running a significant surplus, and actually lends money to the federal government. They just don't want to count the loans as SS assets, because then they'd have to pay them back. Oh, by the way, remember when "they" wanted to "privatize" Social Security, i.e. invest the money in the stock market? Funny that we don't hear so much about that these days. I wonder why. I guess they forgot why Social Security was started in the first place.

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

Last time I had been to the old house, from all the droppings it looked like the mice were running riot, so I set mouse traps. I caught only one mouse. I don't understand.

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

I buy a lot of stuff online. The delivery guys around here (FedEx, UPS, USPS, and that other one) just drop the stuff on the doorstep. UPS is the only service that bothers to ring the doorbell, sometimes. At the old house, I was way up a long drive off the end of a dead-end street, and the house wasn't visible from the road or from neighbors' houses, but delivery guys always rang the doorbell when they left a package. Here, houses are cheek-by-jowl, the doorstep and anything on it is close to and clearly visible from a street full of traffic, cyclists, and pedestrians, but the delivery services just dump the package and run.

Several times I've stepped out the front door and found packages I didn't know were there.

Worse, I could have stepped out and NOT found packages I DIDN'T know SHOULD have been there.

FedEx is the weirdest. They have little stickies that say "We delivered your package", and have spaces for date and time, and check boxes for things like front door, back door, garage, neighbor, and so on.

Only two problems. They don't fill out ANY of the spaces or boxes, and they stick it on the package!

What good does that do?

(Oh, look, there's a Delivery Notice on this package saying they delivered a package. I wonder where the package is?)

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

When I'm on the computer in the morning and evening, Jasper bugs me to play. I accidentally discovered how to get him to not disturb me.

I sit at the desk on a canvas director's chair. I had put another canvas chair next to mine one day to show someone something on the computer. Jasper has appropriated the chair. I guess he likes the canvas sling seat. He's happy to sit or sleep there, as long as I reach over and stroke his head every so often.

The only problem is that it's right below the printer, so I have to warn him before I print anything. He's such a chicken....

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

Last month Daughter was running out of pants, so I invited her to shop in my closet. I had some loose knit drawstring pants that fit her expanding belly fine. She's fine on tops - she wears a lot of baggy sweaters anyway. Yesterday she said she's down to one pair of shoes, running shoes that are wide enough for her expanding feet. We wear about the same size, but my feet are wider than hers, so I think I'll be short some shoes soon, too.

Baby's due the end of April. No, after three frustrating ultrasounds, they still don't know, so "quit asking!"
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