Recently in A Little HELP HERE? Category

Dear Rit® Dye People:

Pink. Pink? I'm no expert, indeed, but when one dyes several white objects comprised of natural fibers (as per instructions) and adds the cup of salt to the dye mix (as per instructions) and inserts the items into the washing machine "wet and unfolded" (as PER INSTRUCTIONS) and one uses TAN DYE (#16) one expects said items to turn some shade of TAN. Okay, I admit that, uhm, someone may have used a surfeit of said dye, but one still expects a result in the tan colour family.

Rather, I discovered THREE DIFFERENT SHADES of PINK when the garments were examined in the washing machine. Bleach did nothing to diminish this phenomenon. Therein were gentle pink, PINK pink, and some shade of...CORAL.

That is all. Just wondered.

Sincerely,
A Curious Consumer

Perhaps more important things later?

That is a message I would like to impress upon my Father. He's in the hospital again. He'll have good care; hopefully he doesn't need another angiogram.

But through my worry I find myself so angry and frustrated. One of the VERY few nights I don't play vampire (trying to be a "normal" person and sleep more often AT NIGHT) and my Dad's up all night having dizziness, trying to faint, having stomach symptoms. His solution was to sit and take his own blood pressure to see how low it was - again and again and again. Finally, I guess he woke up my Mother at about 5:00 a.m. and they went to the hospital when he finally decided that seven thousand REALLY LOW blood pressure readings were not good.

I had no idea. I went out to the garage to get cat food at about 7:00 a.m. and wondered where my Mom had gone so early. I called her hours later, because I was getting VERY curious and a little concerned about the early departure, etc. and she told me where they were. I thought perhaps my insisting on the paramedics at the airport last month might have made an impression. I imagine that he thought that since they let me drive him home (his oxygen saturation was okay, his EKG was okay, his blood pressure and pulse were low, but not dangerously). He just didn't really listen very closely to the part about FOLLOWING UP WITH HIS DOCTOR because they couldn't do blood cultures and other tests. And I'm not sure he listened to the part about how stents can get clots and can collapse and all such fun. He was leaving town again in a few days so he followed up the by calling the nurse. AHHHHHHHHH!

He has seen the heart specialist since then, which was good. HOWEVER, after spending time feeling like he'd narrowly eluded his own death, he went back to his same, over-working, over-stressed ways (I grant you, it's hard to change a stressful nature, but the WORK...).

And let's put the heart problems aside, and the stroke risk - even the foreboding hernia - and talk about what should be considered his most drastic health issue - the cancer. What is going to happen if he has to go on chemo when the androgen therapy finally fails and they don't have a post-androgen solution yet? The man WILL NOT wash his hands effectively, cover his mouth when he hacks all over - you name it. I can't imagine a worse person to be immunodeficient. We'll have to hose him down regularly with hand sanitizer, I guess.

I'm truly sorry, this is not the sort of festive holiday message I would have liked to post right now. But this just impresses so strongly in my mind that my number one holiday wish for EVERYONE I know and love (okay - and for the World) is that they take good care of themselves. And please, please let the medical professionals take over when you are at a loss.

My best and warmest holiday wishes to everyone; GOOD HEALTH and happiness to all.

Yes, it was the big rivalry game of the year: BYU versus The University of Utah. Let's just say my Father is a die-hard BYU fan (he is a BYU professor). Since the University of Utah is my alma mater, I derive the greatest pleasure from the football rivalry through giving my Dad a REALLY HARD TIME and teasing him about it whenever possible (as he takes it a little too seriously).

But the title above refers more to the idea that I almost had to tackle my Father at the airport today so that he'd let the paramedics take a look at him. He did not want to miss the game, for one thing. But, there are times in one's life when one can say, "Sit down!" with the right balance of force and concern so that a man who, as a rule, does NOT listen to one me very often, OBEYS (although grumpily). And I had to do something other than body-slam him (though it was very tempting), as this seemed rather counterproductive to preserving his health.

It's been a LONG day. I'm going to "part II" this whole thing. Aren't you all excited.

My Powerbook is sick - VERY ill. It happened last night so suddenly; one minute my baby was perfect (as usual) and then - BLACK SCREEN. A spontaneously black screen on any computer is very disconcerting, needless to say. I won't go elaborate on all the things I attempted to get it going again (switching batteries and power sources, etc., etc.).

I will say that Kate Logic™ (remember - like standard logic but with half the fat) dictated that since the screen was black (I could still hear a slight noise when I booted up that indicated SOME sort of processing - but no comforting boot-up "bong" - like that has anything to do with the keyboard), I removed all the keys and cleaned out as much cat hair and as many lint balls as I could. I got several bloody wounds in the course of this endeavor (what a surprise). This did not fix it. Even my life-blood did not fix it. The LIFE-BLOOD from MY VERY BODY.

It looks like the image above, incidentally, except with a few lil' dings and scars and such. Oh - and it doesn’t have the posh Intel Core 2 Duo processor in it like the newer models. This does not mean I love it any less.

And just so you know, I have NOT dropped it recently. The Guru's reply the that statement was, "Recently??"

Speaking of the Guru, he has taken my precious baby home with him to try and fix it (because I cannot imagine that he has anything better to do). Bless him (again and again).

When I ponder this serious problem, I wonder if it has something to do with Murphy's Law or Karma or wretched irony. Why? Because just the other day I was thinking, "I haven't backed up my computer in a long time!" See?

Please, people around the World who may read this blog (even if it's just two or five or nine of you), pray or meditate or send positive energy to my beloved Mac (whichever method floats you boat). I love it so (too much, no doubt - though I DO love my Kitten Children more)!

This entry was typed with much resentment towards Windows on a wretched PC.

Well, not much blood, really, but she would like to stick you repeatedly with needles. Perhaps I should explain.

Shirleen is taking at phlebotomy course (as I've outlined previously she already knows how to do pretty much everything else in the World). My faux nephew, Tyler, is taking the course, too (bless his needle-phobic lil' heart). She needs volunteers to be poked (need I add WITH NEEDLES) tonight (Tuesday, August 28, 2007) and on Thursday at 6:00 p.m.

Shirleen practiced on me the other night, and, as someone who's had their blood taken for various tests at least once a month or so all this year and someone who used to participate in a specialty plasma donation program (those needles have the girth of earthworms), I can tell you she did an excellent job. I can't vouch for anyone else, mind you, and I don't know whether or not she has to share her volunteers. That adds an air of titillating risk to it, yes?

So let me know if you'd like to spend your Tuesday and or Thursday evening this week letting neophyte phlebotomists stick you with small-gauge needles for the sake of learning - nay - for the very future of medicine and healthcare.

I got the following text message from Shirleen on Friday (you'll have to envision the little icon bolt of lightening - it won't transfer by email):

I'm officially turned on:)

Now AGAIN, don't get all concupiscent on me, this is MEDICAL, SCIENTIFIC and BIONIC. Hmm. That doesn't sound too much better. But, referring back to my previous entries, particularly the one from August 11, 2007, you will remember Shirleen's long overdue pain relief spine stimulating device has been implanted. Well, the surgical healing has progressed far enough, and, with the "bionics expert" looking on (evidently the rep for this device not only consults extensively with potential clients of this gizmo, he attends every surgery), they activated Shirleen's anti-pain machine (with Bluetooth® technology).

I happy to report that she already is receiving some relief. When she's completely healed from the surgery it should be even better (I should hope to shout).

Mind you, I think that not only is she entitled to some intense pain relief, I believe she deserves a bevy of tiny faeries to carry her to some cloud-enveloped island where she gets to lounge in an enormous bubble bath while handsome cabana boys fan her with gargantuan ostrich plumes and the scent of jasmine fills the air while the sounds of the gentle waves lull her into a well-deserved sleep. Oh - and there are other gorgeous cabana boys to feed her chocolate - especially delectable magical chocolate containing no calories whatsoever. And vitamins - one can subsist entirely on this chocolate, naturally.

Sadly, this is not to be the case. Instead, she was called into work to today so they could lay her off, because she is salaried and with the financial difficulties currently going on in the company they cannot afford her (I personally believe they cannot afford to lose her, but foresight is not the strength of most companies, in my experience). So now that she has achieved a state of increased mobility and will need less and less pain medication and so on, she will have to find a new job.

I'm not sure how she'll feel about this, but I thought I'd just throw this out there: Anyone need a most excellent multi-talented employee? She can do anything, and if she doesn't know how to do it already it will take her about five minutes to learn the task. Seriously.

She can expertly groom your dog (though there is a size limit to the canines with that now because of her back), help your bitch whelp its puppies (that's not ribald - it's the appropriate medical terminology) and then help you whip up a spreadsheet for financial planning, navigate a database, make multi-coloured explanatory charts and then do your taxes with her lightening-quick typing skills. Oh - and she can do all of this bilingually; she's fluent in Spanish, too. Wait - she's trilingual - she speaks some FINE teenager and can text message as fast and well as any sixteen-year-old. And don't forget, she's remote-controlled.

If anyone knows of any position that's available at the moment, give a holler. She really can do just about anything. There are a few physical limitations - she shouldn't dance, jog, do the "twist," break dance, or, come to think of it, lift anything "heavier than a milk jug," and krumpin' is right out. I don't know which or if any of these limitations change after more healing from the surgery, but I personally think the cane she uses adds a classy touch to any outfit or situation.

P.S. She has a certain sister who is relatively - okay - mostly unemployed. This sister is also multi-talented and very creative. Sorry, no Spanish, no cane, no puppy whelping (though she can throw a smattering - some smaller smatterings than others - of German, French, Italian, Latin at you, as well as a phrase or two in Russian, Spanish, Japanese, etc. and two phrases and some great song lyrics in Scots Gaelic).

Additionally, she is an ordained clergy person, can take the anal temperature of a feline, has excellent veins upon which many phlebotomists have trained, and possesses an unusual combination of knowledge concerning music (performing and teaching), theatre (performing and teaching), Shakespeare, genetic research, deposition transcription, some rudimentary knowledge of graphic design, retail management, event planning, medical ethics, U.S. Post Service approved address formatting and end-of-life care. She has been known in some work settings as the formatting and table and database QUEEN. What's more, she has several seemingly useless skills that the innovative employer might find a way to utilize: She's quite limber, she has double-jointed fingers and toes as well as an inordinately large cranium, an odd ankle deficiency, and she always carries a periodic table of the elements (an outdated version, but it will do for the basics). Oh - and she's recently delving into cancer advocacy.

Mind you, Shirleen would definitely be a more ideal choice of employee at this point, and not just because she's a single parent of actual human progeny rather than Kitten Children, but because it will still be a month or so before her sister has a minor medical procedure which should help a tad with at least one aspect of mood-leveling (positive mood-leveling is the hope).

Almost one exactly one month after LIVESTRONG® Day 2007, I wrote a VERY LONG ENTRY about - okay about everything: About my experiences, about my thoughts, about what I hoped everyone would be willing to do to help fight CANCER, the number ONE killer in the U.S. of individuals under the age of eighty-five.

I thought I'd cut to the chase with this post. I want to ask for two things:

1. If you live in the U.S., please contact your Senators and your Congressional Representatives and ask them to support The Cancer Screening, Treatment and Survivorship Act of 2007. Bi-partisan, bicameral legislation - what more could you want? Follow this link and the Lance Armstrong Foundation will help you format messages for your legislators. If they are already sponsors or co-sponsors of the bill (you can find out by looking on the Library of Congress Thomas Locator and entering enter bill numbers S1415 for the Senate and H2353 for the House).


2. Please - EVERYONE - join the LIVESTRONG® Army. And please let me know about it. It's simply about a commitment to help take care of those who are or who could be affected by cancer. Simply put, it can be a commitment to take care of yourself. Help make cancer a WORLDWIDE priority.

   Do it for your family, do it for any of the myriad individuals I've mentioned previously - those who are surviving, those who have survived, those who did not. I can always add to that list, unfortunately: Do it in memory of Taryn's Father or do it memory of Henrike's dear friend, Karen. It's not difficult to find a compelling reason.

Senator Harkin Knows His Comedic Timing

Don't make me kneel and beg, PRETTY PLEASE! It's not attractive; my knees bend with a gruesome and thunderous crack from which you should all be spared. Thank you!

My lovely friend, Heather the Vet Tech Extraordinaire, is trying to place some rescue felines.

I am of the opinion that VERY few people on this Earth can resist the charms of Kittens and/or Puppies. Those who do not fall prey to the wiles of Kitty and/or Puppy Cutiosity (that is the scientific term - DON'T QUESTION ME) are simply deranged. And I don't mean in the vaguely amusing way that I am (and if I've opened a can of worms there, so be it). Ask anyone in advertising. If they cannot sell it with a Puppy or a Kitten or a Puppy AND a Kitten or a Puppy and a Kitten AND an engaging baby, then it's something that needs so be sold with "hot cars" and unrealistically beautiful people in various stages of undress. But even then puppies and kitties probably wouldn't hurt...

Here's what Heather had to say about these particular Kitten Children:

Hey all. I need help placing these cute CUTE kittens (Kitt-ons). They are the sweetest little babies, and I vouch for their health and temperaments. If you know of anyone who might be interested, or have a bulletin board at your place of employ where you could post this, I'd appreciate any help at all. Don't tell babies Brad and Malkovich, but Tortuga the Mama Cat is my favorite. She doesn't have Full Kitten Cuteness on her side, but she is the GREATEST.

Thanks kids. Also- if there is a good family who can't afford the very, very small adoption fee, it's negotiable. I'm just trying to cover some of my costs for getting all their shots and surgeries done.

And just in case you thought you could resist the draw of the precious wee felines, here are photographs:

The pictures of endearing wee kitties do not at this moment want to load. Damn. Just take my word for it, they are SOOOOOOOOO enchanting, adorable, winsome and engaging. And rife with cutiosity. You can see the pictures on Heather's site...

If you are not in the Utah area (particularly the Utah Valley area), or you have your quota of Kitten Children or you are irreversibly deranged, please consider downloading and posting this announcement [which will not upload at the moment either...use your imagination?] at your place of business or make it into a fashionable t-shirt or plaster it on some phone poles or something.

I've barely talked at all about LIVESTRONG® Day; perhaps I'm finding it a little daunting. It was a humbling yet inspiring experience. Of approximately 200 delegates I was one of only a handful who had not personally survived cancer. And many of the survivors were oncologists and cancer survivors or the heads of advocacy organizations and cancer survivors - you get the picture.

It was also a whirlwind. Since I missed my morning flight on May 14th the only flight I could get left at 11:50 p.m. and had a stopover in Atlanta. I arrived at the hotel just as the training had started. Lance (I can call him that now - once you're part of the "team" it's your privilege*) spoke at the training - rushing in to talk and then straight out as he was between meetings and TV interviews the entire time he was in D.C. I did get several cell phone videos of him, one in which he mistakes one of the delegates for Bill Cosby. That was most funny, as you'll hear if I ever post the video because I cackle right into the speaker the entire time (NOTE TO KATE: When taking videos, remember that you're RIGHT NEXT TO THE LIL' SPEAKER). It was a whirlwind for everyone from there.

There was a reception that night at ESPN Sports, most of which I missed, because I'd read my email, which included Kari's obituary. I went to tell some other delegates that I'd like to know the way to the reception, in case I decided to come later, but that I wasn't going to go with them. I had scarcely walked out of my room and to the elevators, when another delegate looked at my face and asked me what was wrong. I broke down, of course, and she sent her husband and son, who were visiting downstairs, and she sat with me on a couch to console me. To console ME. This incredible woman is a breast cancer survivor (diagnosed two weeks apart from her sister). I expressed to her that sometimes I felt so horrible because I just felt like everyone was sick and dying all about me; I sometimes feel like a bizarre epicenter of illness and death (even though intellectually I know that's ridiculous). And then I conveyed how guilty that made me feel; I was never the dying one. This woman, with short, short-cropped hair, probably indicating that she'd had a round of chemo not all that long ago, said that sometimes she thought it was harder to be on the outside. Bless her.

Bless them all, actually. Everyone was like that; ready to show you what to do and how to get there. And when I did go to the reception for a moment, a delegate from Idaho with whom I'd spoken on and off that day came up to me. I know I looked lost and a little dazed. She, too, asked what was wrong and hugged me as the tears fell again. Then this incredible woman - she and her husband are both cancer survivors - said the same words, "Sometimes I think it's harder to be on the outside."

LIVESTRONG® Day Delegates, May 16, 2007

Needless to say, I felt unworthy in the face of these amazing survivors, yet not a single person made me feel like I shouldn't be there or that I didn't have something to offer. We were all there for one purpose, and they cared more about how hard we could work than which person had survived more cancer recurrences.

The next day we were to take the requests of the Lance Armstrong Foundation to the legislators for our specific states. A delegate from Virginia rescued me as I was running to the Metro and put me in the cab with him and insisted on paying the fare because "he worked with another group for whom he could write if off." And as he had extra time, he took me not only into the building for the members of the House, but to the very office where my first meeting was to be. Kermit, the other delegate from Utah guided me everywhere else all day (as he's been on the circuit speaking with the legislators for other advocacy groups with which he works). He's a prostate cancer survivor, and in the second or third email I ever exchanged with him provided amazing research links. Hope for my Father. Hope that I didn't think existed.

The meetings were productive (I hope - I'll talk more about that later). There was an unfortunate situation that I noticed too late to fix it; I had NO antiperspirant/deodorant with me (there was a noble effort of to make my suitcases light enough as I was almost out the door - Shirleen and my Mom generously helped me and gracefully ignored the rather ungenerous, hysterical comments I made while they assisted me. Don't worry, they've already obtained my most sincere apologies and they are getting presents, too). It seems that the antiperspirant/deodorant did not survive the cut (and I did not notice in time to do anything about it). At least my luggage was not over the weight limit.

I suppose I mention this in case you ever run into a Utah legislator who remembers LIVESTRONG® Day 2007 and happens to recall the distinguished older gentleman who said just enough and the younger delegate who smelled...funny...and had difficulty shutting her trap.

All day I thought about and talked about those I loved for whom I wanted freedom from cancer to be a reality as well as those who had lost their battles with this disease - this insidious killer that takes the lives of 560,000 people a year. The worst part is that about a third of those deaths could be prevented with equitable healthcare and early screening. I only had to remember that fact and I wouldn't have traded places with anyone in the world so that I could be part of the effort to change those statistics.

See Scout?

Dearest Pamela, my friend of many years and a few more, has the great impudence to suggest that she and her family are moving to Arizona. She has forgotten that IT'S ALL ABOUT ME.

She and I went on a road-trip there, once, and I believe her Parents, May They Rest in Peace, and mine (who don't read this blog unless I show them directly) would blanch at the speed with which this trip was accomplished. Pam's Father had once said something about which line on the road to hug in race-car driving, if that tells you anything about it.

It was early May or Late April and we faced formidable odds: A weird infestation of some sort of "Royal" butterfly (not Monarch) so you couldn't drive about without getting HUGE insects smish-smashed and spattered across your windshield and grill and so on. We also faced simultaneous PMS, race-car driving in a "sporty" (that's my Father's designation - the car had a STRIPE) red Ford escort (an evil car, but it didn't show it's true colours just then), and when we got near the urban center of Tempe/Mesa/Phoenix/Scottsdale/London all gummed up together it was approximately 5,000° Fahrenheit. Thank God for the air conditioning.

Obviously, we survived and went on to have normal, productive lives thereafter (except for me). But I did not think Pam would MOVE there. Such is the way of things...

OKAY - to the burning issue at hand: Scout the Dog. Pam figures that Scout, being primarily an outdoor dog, wouldn't do well in the pottery kiln known as Arizona; Scout LOVES seasons - you know - snow and such, and I'm guessing she would be AGAINST being baked alive (Pam's REALLY smart about these things. She's smart about EVERYTHING. I believe that makes her a SMARTY EVERY DAY!). Thus Pam endeavors to find Scout a good home in Utah (or, I suppose, the surrounding area). Here are Scout's specs:

• Spayed female AKC (SN550188/02) black Labrador.
• Sire: Kerrybrook's Son-of-a-Fitch;
• Dame: Westwind's Mercy Perfect Tank
• Name: Tanglewood's Scout of Mercy
• Born: May 26, 1998
• Loves: water, people (esp. children), food, fetching balls
• Doesn't bark (unnecessarily); doesn't jump [up on people, I'm guessing]
• Crate trained, but not house broken
• Free! (original cost: $300)

See Scout be SO PRETTY

Sounds like a good deal to me... I'd snap her up. But, of course, I have Kitten Children... And no home of my own...

Oh - and if you'd like to get a whole SET of To Kill a Mockingbird pets, I can help you out. First, head to Kansas and pilfer the cat of Charles and Ashley named "Atticus" (they'd still have three others). Then, head to Maryland and abduct my Brother, David. "WHY?" you may ask. Well, his friends used to call him "Boo Radley." I don't suppose they were trying to be very nice, but he is large of stature, gentle, quiet and puts things in the knotholes of trees (okay, as far as I know, that last one is a big, fat lie). He is not mentally challenged (miles from it, actually), but if you asked him nicely he's probably act as though he was.

As for Jem, you'll have to get a fish or something and name it as such. Then you'll have my most favourite characters from this book:

So PRETTY PLEASE, consider a charming addition to your family. Remember: Dogs = "Man's Best Friend" and so on.