i flipped the page
crisp sound like morning
smell like a new book or coffee
glanced over empty spaces
thinking leisurely over plans
inventory of what to write in
holidays, birthdays, anniversaries
luncheons, parties, and surgery
i grasp the page again, feel the thinness
amazed that something so easily torn
can hold so many memories, plans
seemingly powerless as it counts
or does it force days forward
common, like a lesion, nondescript
until they tell you, it is a tumor
larger than you want in a brain
my nephew’s name looks so small
when i write it on the huge date
before filling in the other
empty spaces

Nigerien people in 2007 unloading medical supplies

In 2007, MedShare shipped a forty-foot container of medical supplies to Kirker Hospital in Maine-Soroa, Niger, ranked by the UN as the poorest country in the world and an infant mortality rate of almost 15%.  This past November, we shipped another container of supplies and equipment, which is currently en route to Niger.

The hospital was established and run by Dr. William Kirker, who served there back in the 1960s during his time in the Peace Corps.  Here is a powerful story from Dr. Kirker of how MedShare’s medical supplies saved one little boy from going blind:

This little boy, we will call “Little Issa” (Issa is his real name). He came to me some time back with a serious upper eyelid tumor, distorting his vision by deforming his cornea.  He would have been blind in that eye in a few more months if his parents not brought him in to see me.

As you also can see he was rather undernourished at the start, but we took care of this. I saw him in the office and administered a MAP supplied, mild, overall sedative and a local MAP supplied eyeball anesthetic. After a couple of minutes I used MEDSHARE supplied sterile drapes, gloves and surgical eye instruments (without these specialized eye-only instruments that Medshare supplied, the surgery could not have been done).

Little Issa after his eye surgery

Eye instruments are delicate and general surgical instruments are much larger and bulkier and dangerous to try and use in a delicate eye operation.  After the operation, he was given MAP supplied eye and general antibiotics and pain relievers and hospitalized with a Medshare supplied bandage eye patch on him.

His recovery was uneventful and we followed his eye progress and filled him full of nutritious foods to combat his under nutrition. He then made a nice recover from both his eye problem and under nutrition. He went home with good vision in both eyes and a much healthier and well nourished baby boy.

Moule, Pam. Practical Resuscitation for Healthcare Professionals. 2009. Shelved at 616.025

If I were in a conscious state but unable to communicate, resist outside forces, or assist in my own care… and if I had spent more than half my life lying in a hospital bed, listening and thinking… and if someone finally noticed that I was actually awake… and if I regained my ability to “speak” through the assistance of a physical therapist and modern technology… I’m pretty sure my first words would be, “Jesus, get me a fucking cheeseburger. And tell that turd-chewing brother of mine that I heard everything he said about ‘pulling the plug.’ Oh, and hey… don’t tell that redheaded nurse that I’m awake. Something tells me she’d stop coming in at night and giving herself the bowling-ball grab. Good thing she wasn’t looking for ’signs of life’ if you know what I mean!”

According to the medical community, this highlights the difference between a vegetative state and a consciousness disorder. According to this guy, whom I have no reason to believe, the line between tomato and minimally-aware tomato is the presence of intermittent responses that appear to be responses to stimuli (and not just a reflex). Now, I’ve seen a chicken play tic-tac-toe, and I’m guessing that the distinction is completely subjective.

But that’s not the thorn behind my balls. No, it’s the idea that a minimally-aware state constitutes life that has me scratching at my bleeding taint. This guy lived inside his head – and probably on the public dime – for 23 years. Weigh that against actual death after the ‘83 crash that started all this shit. It’s like Gianna Jessen. Yeah, she survived abortion, but only so she could struggle with cerebral palsy, multiple surgeries and lifelong reliance on others because she can’t do basic math. Sure, she can speak, but she can’t put buttons in a row. Plus, she’s part of the monotheistic fear machine that pushes for quantity over quality. Better off in a steel pan? I’ll let you decide… but if your decision is “no,” I’m breaking your jaw like the guy from the Reach commercials and mounting a toilet seat to your teeth.

Surviving solely to serve as an inspiration to others is bullshit. Do you really think anyone wants to be the guy that everyone points at and says, “thank god I’m not that poor bastard”? It’s the PC equivalent of a freak show. The only way to ensure that everyone gets to maintain their dignity, both in life and death, is to accept that there is such a thing as “technically alive, but totally not worth it.” Smash them in the head, turn off their ventilators, herd them into meat grinders, send a Sandman to track them down. Whatever. Just leave the living to the people who can actually live.

Caveat: Before you yank the feeding tube from my gut, make sure my 3 life goals are fulfilled. I want to meet David Bowie and listen to him play Bewlay Brothers and The Gang. Then I want to eat seven entire cheesecakes in a variety of tasty flavors. And lastly, I want to be the wrinkled, unresponsive track upon which the longest gang bang train in the history of humanity rides, each one signing a ledger as he drags his flaccid bloodbag from my overflowing knothole so that Guinness can verify the record. Then play Taps on a kazoo and light a match. Believe me; with all the booze I drink, the cremation will be short and sweet.

Title: NHS cancelled operations, quarter ending 30 September 2009

Skinny: Latest quarterly national statistics on NHS cancelled operations produced by the Department of Health.  Key findings are:

• During the quarter ending 30 September 2009, 13,577 operations were cancelled at the last minute for non-clinical reasons. In the same period in 2008, there were 13,144 cancelled operations.
• Cancelled operations during the quarter represented 0.8% of all elective activity, the same figure as the same period in 2008/09.
• Of these cancellations, 344 (2.5%) of patients were not treated within 28 days of a cancellation.  In the same period in 2008, 424 (3.2%) of patients were not treated within 28 days.

Publisher: DH

Published: 13/11/2009

Archives of Surgery 2009 (Vol. 144 No. 11) contents page

Fade Fave: Factors That Determine Satisfaction With Surgical Treatment of Low-Income Women With Breast Cancer

Fade Skinny: Considers the relationship between patient satisfaction with surgical treatment and 4 consultation skills and processes of the surgeons (time spent, listens carefully, explains concepts in a way the patient can understand, and shows respect for what the patient has to say), controlling for a range of patient, surgeon, and treatment characteristics. Highlights the need to spend enough time and explaining concepts in a way that ensures patients understand them to increase patient satisfaction.

(NHS Athens is required to access this article online)

A few days ago I realized that I was ill prepared to deal with the after-effects of this upcoming surgery.  So Jodi suggested I practice not using my left arm to get the hang of what things might be like with the limited mobility I’ll have.  First thing I noticed was that even though I’m right handed, I use my left arm a LOT! Next thing…putting a shirt on over your head one-handed and without lifting your arm up past a few inches is extremely difficult, taking it off though is nearly impossible! I’m thinking I don’t have nearly enough button front shirts in my current wardrobe. On the plus side, I now have a pretty good excuse for not being a fashionista…if I’m wearing the same shirt 3 days in a row most people will be too polite to “notice”.

The next issue I tackled was my hair. Even though I had an appointment to get my hair cut today I wanted to see how much styling was possible with just one arm. It wasn’t too bad, a lot of moving my head instead of my arms and walking away with damp hair rather than fully dry. I headed straight to my lovely stylist Toni though and asked her for something that might still look cute even if I can’t dry or style it. I think she did a fabulous job and I’m going to try not blow-drying it tonight to see how it turns out.

The way things usually go for me though, is that no matter what I practice there will be things I never thought of and I’ll be saying, “Dang! Why didn’t I think of that!”  I’ll try not to worry too much about household chores and the like. After all I have a good excuse right?

Each day I’m reminded how lucky I am to be surrounded by so many people who love me and who want to help me.  So many people have donated to the site my brother Stacey set up to help me with living expenses that I’m almost embarrassed! (ALMOST!) People I hardly know, and even some people I don’t know at all. It really let’s me know that all in all, humans are basically compassionate, giving beings. It reaffirms my faith in mankind and although I never had a doubt…it proves without exception that I am surrounded by some of the best human beings on earth!

http://www.kapipal.com/72a0be35e21c48bd9b796f909245eee8

My former Teammate @CV31 tweeting before his surgery. He’s really changing the game. On another note, I wonder if Rip will let him wear his mask until he gets back

Sometimes it seems so simple to “decide” to lose weight. My grandfather used to say that the reason that people gain too much weight is because “every time their elbows bend, their mouths fly open!” This makes sense, but as most of the world knows, obesity is much more complicated than that. As an introduction to my lifelong battle with this condition, here is some background about me:

I was born in 1964, in a tiny rural town in eastern North Carolina, pop. 2500. My upbringing was fun, and my 3 sisters and I lived at home with my Mom and Dad. I was an overweight baby, but slimmed down once I began walking and running as a toddler. My parents worked hard, and were great providers.

 There was always enough food to eat, and we ate the traditional southern cuisine. There was an emphasis on outdoor play, so it was pretty easy to stay active and physically fit. I believe that my weight gain began when, as an adolescent, I was able to go to a tiny candy store near my elementary school and buy snacks without my Mom knowing about it. My uncle had come to live with us, and he was always giving my sisters and me his spare change. When I think back, this is the time when I got bigger and kids at school started to tease me, calling me “porky” and “pig” and any other fat-related names.

What is odd about me is that I didn’t care what they said. I’ve always had this idea that stupid people do and say stupid things, and I never really thought they knew any better. The same kids who teased me about being overweight teased other kids about various things…drunk fathers, fat mothers, being lousy at sports, etc. So this was not a source of stress that caused overeating for me. I loved school, was above-average in popularity, and got excellent grades.

I do remember deciding that I didn’t like sports, though, because I would always be one of the last kids to get picked for teams when we played games like softball and kickball in my PE classes. Still, I do not remember being upset about this, because there were several of us who always got picked last. I don’t think it matters why I stopped having fun playing sports, because the result was more weight gain.

Fast forward to high school. I was still fat and happy, with close friends and extra curricular activities. Then, something happened, and to this day, I cannot figure out what it was. All I remember are a few isolated incidents that are weight-related. In my 11th grade year, I remember doing my homework during my lunch break and drinking a carton of low-fat chocolate milk instead of eating. I had stopped eating the extra snacks, but I don’t remember when or why. All of a sudden, I began losing weight at an alarming rate. I was not physically sick, and I didn’t feel tired. My grades went through the roof, and I began to get offers for college scholarships. My teachers liked me, more students liked me, and none of my clothes fit anymore. I went from 220 to about 135 in just a few months. I auditioned for, and won a spot on the color guard in the marching band, and easily fit into the uniform. What I do remember is not realizing that I was so much lighter…to me, I still looked like me.

As the years passed, from high school to college, and to the workforce, I became a yo-yo dieter. I could easily gain and lose weight, and I thought this ability was based on my willpower and discipline. After college, I rarely exercised until I was in my mid-20’s and needed to lose a lot of weight. It worked, and as soon as I reached my goal, I stopped exercising. At age 30, I had my first child. When I was 35, I had two more children (11 months apart). Gained more weight.

When I was admitted to the hospital for my third caesarean section in July, 2000, I weighed 299 pounds. I felt sure that I would lose the weight once the baby was born. That did not happen. In 2005, I was diagnosed with chronic anxiety. In 2006, I was diagnosed with hypertension. I weighed 320 pounds. I got scared, imagining my children with no mother, and I hired a trainer and went to see a nutritionist. I worked out twice a week for several months, but I saw the nutritionist only once. I did make a few dietary changes for the better, but I never really stopped eating fast food. I should have seen a psychologist, because I am finally beginning to understand that much of my struggle is definitely mental. I know WHAT to do, and I know HOW to do it, but I can’t make myself do it.

I tried Weight Watchers, the weight loss prescription drug Meridia, Dexatrim, Alli, and Atkins. I tried mind over matter, prayer, tough love from my best friends, and slimfast. Nothing seemed to get me past those days when all I really wanted was some chicken wings and french fries (with ranch dressing). I know it sounds crazy, and trust me, my IQ is above average. I am telling you this because I know that society perceives this to be a simple decision, but I believe that this is as difficult as it is for an alcoholic to stop drinking, and for a career smoker to put down the doggone cancer sticks. Yet, I was afraid to see a psychologist because I didn’t want my medical records to show that I had a mental problem. (As if the Lexapro wasn’t a clue…)

I began to consider weight loss surgery about two years ago, and about a year ago I began to consider it more seriously. I was paying almost $100 a month for two prescriptions to manage two obesity-related chronic illnesses, and I had just found out that I was right on the borderline of being diagnosed with diabetes (Type II, also known as adult-onset).

This past summer, I signed up for a seminar to learn more about the available procedures. I waited two months to get into a seminar (this is a popular subject) and I completed the application to the weight loss center that same evening.

Next post: The seminar, people’s reaction to my announcement, and my first consultation. Stay tuned!

Tomorrow is my Dad’s surgery.  I have no idea of the time, we find that out between 4 and 7pm tonight.  By then I will hopefully be on the road.  I have no ideal what to expect as the journey begins tomorrow.  I hate the unknown.  I would be lying if I were to say I wasn’t scared.  I am.

I am sure my Dad is more scared than I am.  He has never spent more than 8 hours in a hospital.  He has never had major surgery.  He is the one with cancer.

I am staying upbeat, channeling all the positive mojo I can and hoping for the best results.  I will be away from the computer for the better part of the next 2 weeks at the very least, as soon as I can get back online I will update this blog.

Well it’s been a day and a half today. Jono saw an article in the Irish Daily Mail last week of a lad that had a similar back problem to him. This lad had his surgery and his back was so straight, so Jono emailed the letters page of the Daily Mail to say how great it was but how he was still waiting for surgery.

I was phoned on Friday by the Mail and asked lots of questions. So an article went in today (most of the things quoted I didn’t say….and I’ve also become a Miss!)

Anyway I was so cheesed off today that I decided to go to the Citizens Information in Sligo to see if they could suggest anything about getting surgery for Jono. They did suggest that I went to a local TD which I did and his office took details from me and said they would get back to us.

In the meantime I was speaking to a lovely lady who has offered advice before and has a good knowledge of the health service and she suggested I get legal advice.

After I got off the phone a message had been left…….from Crumlin. I phoned back and was told a date for Jonos surgery has been agreed for December 15th…..as it’s not in writing yet I’m not getting too excited. Jono is thrilled although I told him not to get his hopes up, after all we have been here before.

For those who have had a tubal ligation and now suffer from Post Tubal Ligation Syndrome and are waiting to have a tubal reversal the wait can seem like forever.

Many women on the Chapel Hill Tubal Reversal Center website message board discuss Post Tubal Ligation Syndrome and how it can actually control their lives and not in a good way. Many times their hair will begin to fall out or thin and that is not counting the night sweats and mood swings.

Many times the waiting is hardest part. When dealing with Post Tubal Ligation Syndrome everyday seems like a month and the countdown to tubal reversal and freedom has begun. Many times women have been told that Post Tubal Ligation Syndrome is not even real and this makes the waiting that much harder.

For many women who are anticipating tubal reversal surgery the saving the money is the hardest part to get through. Many couples use part of their income tax returns while others do little things like not get the extras at the grocery store. Many times instead of buying gifts they will make them to save money and these ideas help in the saving process. For more great ideas on saving for tubal reversal surgery the tubal reversal message board has many ideas from women that have had to do the saving.

Although it does take time while waiting for the tubal reversal surgery it helps when you interact with others who are going through the same thing. The Chapel Hill Tubal Reversal Center website has a vast amount of information as well as tubal reversal videos and a blog. The tubal reversal nurses are available seven days a week for those who have questions and would like to speak with the staff.

Hey everybody, the translation project is continuing and I have a new video with Catalan subtitles: the video describing my first surgery. More Catalan videos to come. If you know anybody in Spain who might benefit from these videos, please let them know! I know Catalan is not the most popular language in the world but the people who speak it still get ulcerative colitis.

Keep fighting,
~Dennis

By Dr. Brent Lipke DC

 Every parent at one time or another has had the heart-aching task of dealing with a child in agony from an ear infection.

Traditionally antibiotics have been given to remedy this.  Yet, research in the Lancet Medical Journal suggests that 88% of children never need antibiotics, and in those that receive them the risk of reocurrence is high.

Chiropractic care, on the other hand has been found to be both safe and effective at decreasing pressure on the nerve supplying the Eustachian tube, which drains the middle ear to the back of the throat.

To learn more about how a safe, gentle and scientific, Chiropractic adjustment could TRANSFORM your health contact your chiropractor.  If you are interested in a complimentary consultation, CALL  the Family Chiropractic Centre, 519-837-1234. 

 I’m Dr. Brent Lipke, educating you to help you educate others !

“What is the one thing you haven’t done yet that you want to do with me, or to me?”

I love these types of questions. I love hypothesizing. It’s fun. It makes my brain happy. “What if” type of questions are like candy to my mind. Hypothesizing about sex makes both my brain and my clit happy so it’s a double treat.
How we came to the question is that today Luke has sex on the mind and for whatever reason I am decidedly not in the mood. We, neither of us, prescribe to the school of thought that if he wants sex, I must provide. However, being of the male persuasion, (I am going by what I hear from other women here since he is my first guy), he has been chewing my ear off by talking about how badly he wants it, needs it, is distracted without it, etc etc. I used to think of myself as a nympho because I have a higher sex drive than most women and butches I dated. I pity men and their sex drive. It seems like a colossal joke to have such different sex drives in different genders.
Anyhow, since we do have a bdsm relationship, some might think that if he wanted sex, he could demand it. If I am not otherwise busy (like today), theoretically he could and in practice I would respond to it some of the time. BUT I am very particular about my personal space and while I don’t mind having my limits pushed once in a while (by I don’t mind I mean it would turn me on), I wouldn’t be able to handle it as a given. If he were to demand sex from me when I was truly not in the mood, I would rain fire on his head and that’s not good for anyone. This is one reason I can’t be a slave or lifestyler ever. I wouldn’t even demure away, I would flatten with disapproval. Once more, not good, for anyone.
Some of the reluctance and caution around playing with that particular situation comes from another issue though. Namely, Luke is MUCH more tactile than I am. I can do without touch and a lot of times I need people not to touch me, specifically when I am upset. Luke has always needed to be touched to feel connected so when he is upset, he touches. When we are both upset, like when we’ve had an argument, that makes for a bad combination. For a long time, he didn’t quite get that or his need to touch outweighed his knowledge of my need for him not to. That invasion of my space, in a way, made me weary of his touch for a while so I instinctually reacted to his simplest touch with pulling away even if I actually wanted his touch. I had just had to push him away so much that it became an impulse. Over time, he has come to (slowly) understand what I mean or at least he’s been “retrained” to not do it, thank god, so we are past that. Who says tops can’t learn?

It’s an art, how I get side tracked. This part, I swear will relate back to why I started writing.
So here’s the thing. Before dating me Luke had never been in a bdsm relationship. *I* have never been in a relationship that didn’t involve at least some innocent form of kink. When we met, I think by the 2^nd time we had spoken I told him I was into kink. I just never have been able to get involved with someone without putting that on the table from the get go. I try to make it sound not so presumptuous as in, hi we’ve just met but I am going to assume we’ll have sex and I am telling you that I need it kinky. But I just don’t want to waste my time so for as long as I remember, if I found someone attractive, I’ve let it be known that I am into kink. I mentioned I started having sex when I was 19 and I met Luke when I was turning 24. However in the interim 5 years, I did manage to do a lot more sexual exploration that he had managed with the added 6 years he has on me. With that being said, he took to topping like a fish to water. If there was ever a case of raw talent making up for lack of experience, this is it. He is one of the best tops I have ever met and he is my sexual soul mate. He is the yang to my yin.
My kink need has always been so obvious to me that I used to be skeptical of people who “come to kink”. I was a kink snob, I admit it. In short, I was a dork. Knowing Luke and growing up changed that.
BUT, short and long of it is while he could handle a cane and flogger on the first go better than a lot of experienced tops I’ve known, he still hasn’t done a bunch of things that I take for granted. Also, not having been in the kink and queer community (and by nature) he is much more conservative than I am. So it’s always fun to hypothesize on sex acts we haven’t done yet and he hasn’t tried so far.

Which (finally) brings us back to the question of the day.
My answer:
I want a threesome with Luke and another guy. I’ve had a threesome before with a butch and a femme. In that situation I was the visiting dignitary. Now I want to play with two masculine people and bring a boy/boi in. I don’t care if he’ll be a trans man or a butch, just masculine. I want to be double penetrated. I want to be whipped while I am sucking cock and all such fun that comes from threesomes. But I want our third to be submissive to Luke while dominant to me. Also I want to watch Luke fuck him and I want to watch him suck Luke off. I swoon at boy on boy action.
So I want a bisexual switch who is clean and trustworthy to come and play with us.
The problem? Luke does not like sharing his toys, specially his favorite which happens to be your truly. Annnd Luke is decidedly into girls. However, as I pointed out to him, he did ask so I answered.
Oh and he couldn’t picture how a double penetration in ass and pussy would work. He was telling me how the mechanics of it wouldn’t work so I had to search till I found some clips that showed it which did not impress. I won’t pretend that it’s easy or graceful or even attainable for long periods of time… closer observation of various double penetration porn made it clear that it’s rather hard even for professionals. All I am saying is that I like the sensation (from being fucked in my cunt while also having a “full sized” plug in my ass) and I think I’ll enjoy the act. I am not going to pretend that I know it’ll be fun. I’ve had plenty of fantasies that once played out not only did not live up to the mental enticement but were downright icky. But I’ve also had plenty of fantasies that were muuuuch better in practice than even in my head.
As for what I’d like to do to him. I can’t imagine doing anything TO him. With him is one thing. To him, well I can’t wrap my mind around that quite. He is my top and thus the doer of things unto moi.
His answer: (to both with and to)
Public sex as in, in a public place and with a public to watch. He IS more of an exhibitionist than I thought. Luke and I have had sex in public areas like hiking trail or a club or restaurant but not yet with other people watching. I had done that before I met him BUT that’s before all my issues with my health and weight and self image. I am honestly much more shy naked wise than I used to be. BUT, while he much be prudish about my fantasies, I am here to please so public sex is on the schedule. We have to wait until Luke has his top surgery but right after he is healed and feels comfy we’re going to do something public. Before that time which would be about a year away, we’ve been playing around with the idea of making some clips to post online. That would be like having an audience without being able to see them. A much larger audience. And the benefit of editing to have as a mental safeguard against attacks of shy. It’s like training wheels for exhibitionism!

Now on to cleanings and Christmas set ups.

Yay!

Hey followers!

Jeanette here. I’ve found the perfect guinea pig for my makeover experiment. Kathlyn!

She looks so… (no offence, Kat) nerdy.

Even when she wants to look like me:

Ya know, there’s no ‘cool’ feeling, the way it works when you wanna look like me.

Yeah, really, perhaps she’s made for the nerds.

Hey, that gave me an idea! Why not I send her my nerd wig since I’m not usig it now? Anyway, Kat’s the one who bought it for me.

~~SENDING IN PROCESS~~

Done! Ta-da! Maybe Kat’s taking a cat nap, so I’ll try plastic surgery on myself first. 

She looks so… so… manly?

You agree?

That’s one wig gone wig-ed.

Maybe we’ll do plastic surgery on her looks.

From this…

To estimated this:

She looks cute, doesn’t she? (It’s actually me!) It costs 900 coins! OMG!

Now we’ll go (window) clothes shopping!

Wait! Before that, we’ll seek comments from Jacob, a makeover artist whom I’d hired before.

Comments from Jacob, the stylish pet: Her puffy ears match her frizz on her hair. It’s cute, but Kathlyn’s white oval doesn’t really fit with her tanned skin. In other words, her oval might look as if it’d be nicer without it, but truly, without it her tan will be really ugly.

Overall, she looks quite manly, really. As predicted. I won’t be surprised if you decide to change her gender. But, a big but, with the right clothing she can regain her style.

Sex change? Forget about it, Jacob! Or she won’t be called “Sister Kathlyn”!

We proceed to the clothes shop.

We have three view points, one professional, one self-reflection and one passer-by.

Eww!

Jacob: This makes her look too royal. Without her nerdy wig she might look a teeny little better. As said, she looks too man for a dress.

Kathlyn: Erm… Is this how I’m gonna look? Caz’ I look pretty disgusting.

Zenn: Hmm… What a weird girl. *pretends she doesn’t know Kat* Is it a she? Or a sissy? *laughs* Just kiddin’.

Woah!

Jack: Nice! I told you before, she’ll regain her style with the right clothes. This makes her look maid-y, but she’d look nice with matching pants and shoes.

Kathlyn: I look as stupid as a stupid person. And I look like an idiotic servant! Eww.

Zenn: Wow she’s cute.

Sporty!

Jack: This isn’t nice as a girl at all. Only if she cuts down on the fat stored in her arms. She looks chubby. But if only you had playfish cash then you can consider buying one of those.

Kathlyn: I should wear sports shoes.

Zenn: OMG! You’re manly! You don’t look like a girl at all.

Bright!

Jack: The perfect one! She looks quite nerdy, really. A pair of nerdy glasses to settle this nerd. *laughs*

Kathlyn: This is what I like! A scholar!

Zenn: This is really sweet! Although it’s not. Haha. But she looks adorable.

But really, Jacob’s views might not be the same as yours. We need your help. Tell us what you think by polling!

Love,
Jeanette
PS, We were still looking for clothes when we found this:

Cute isn’t it? She can be either a girl or a boy! This is perfect, but we need 200  more coins… *sob*

Plastic Surgeon Fail

Picture by: dunno source Submitted by: dunno source via Fail Uploader

i noticed hair on my upper thigh today. the thinnest, most spaced out little dark hairs. it excites me as much as the tiny dark fuzz creeping in above my lip.  i wonder how the hair will grow around scar tissue; translucent pale cords of healed skin in neat little rows.

many of them are growing into the skin around them. many of the ones on my arms still retain the cold bump of hypertrophia, the most recent almost three years old.  but the ones on my legs have stretched and shrunk in size over the years.  running my fingertips over the rows it feels almost smooth.

i have often wondered, since the age of 14, what my skin would look like unmarred. who would i be without them? would the scarring have reappeared in other places in my life? in liver failure? in normalcy? maybe. i’ve always been apprehensive about their disappearance. used it as an excuse for more cuts, deeper ones. something to hold on to.  have had only one clear moment of wanting them gone.  of being ready to let them go.  that moment has passed, and though they aren’t the anchor they once were, i felt a turn in my stomach when noticing their slow fade. they are not my anchor anymore, steelheavy and unmoving, but they root me. have breathed in the soil of my skin and pushed me upward.

i began cutting away pieces of my body at age 12.  pulled pieces of skin from muscle from tendons from bone. kept them tucked away in scraps of paper shoved in pockets, the bloodier ones in the bottom of the trash with the used condoms.

i’ve burned memories into flesh. desired to keep them as much as i run from them. used metal and plastic and ink to remind myself where i am.

now i seek new scars. smiling-half-lidded-eye scars. boat-shaped-scars.  goodbye-suffocating-mesh-binders-scars.

imagine productive scars, like tattoos; sutured skin like salvation, like a dream, like a whole self ready to dance.
————————————

i don’t want to privilege surgery. don’t want to prioritize cellular change, removal or addition of body parts as the championship ranking in my communities.  but i know what feels right for me.  and i want to tell you about these changes from my own experience. not speaking for anyone but my own skin while honoring all the other stories. tell me about your genders.  i’m listening.

I’m going to have surgery to lose an organ in two days…

I guess that sounds a little bit dramatic. Well, it certainly was an unexpected series of unfortunate events. Actually, it was just one – and it ended up with a planned removal of my gall bladder.

Two weeks ago, at 2am, I was struck with a writhing pain in my abdomen that left me nauseous and curled in a standard fetal position. I ended up in emergency where I went through a series of tests including x-rays, ultrasound, and then the CAT scan – the white stargate ring that takes your body to another dimension. As the pain subsided thanks to a dose of a pain-killing syrup that happened to be stronger that vicodin, the ER doctor diagnosed me with a classic case of gallstones. Then, to my surprise, I was nearly scheduled for immediate surgery, before I put on the brakes and asked to slow down. Luckily, my case was not serious enough to warrant an emergency surgery.

After being discharged, I scheduled an appointment with my personal physician, where he recommended me to a surgeon – who happened to be a top-notch doctor- and according to Yelp -  five stars (thank god, you don’t see much of those for doctors…). After reviewing my files, the doc showed me my gallstones on the CAT scan screen, and had recommended to have my gall bladder – an organ that I don’t need to live – removed. The surgery would take about 90 minutes and I’d be out of the hospital by the end of the day – with 4 holes on my body and a without an organ I don’t really need (will post more on the gory details).

Now, another thing that makes things interesting is that I’ll be flying to France for LeWeb where I’ll be tending to a Seesmic booth, and then heading to Bucharest to meet with our coworkers at our office. Fortunately, the doctor shared that the recovery time from surgery is expected to be enough for me to fly out to Paris. We’ll definitely see.

We could have scheduled it after my trip, but the surgeon was planning a vacation overseas the day I was scheduled to come back, so I would have had to have scheduled it in January. Judging by my medical charts, I could have waited to have it done then, but the risk was another potential episode of visiting the ER. So with the surgeon available on Tuesday – part of the juggle for scheduling was not just the doctor’s time, but also the surgery facilities. Lo and behold, we found a spot among the four that happened to fit the surgeon’s availability. So, Tuesday it is… Next, I’m going to a lab for an EKG test on Monday morning. I don’t even know what an EKG really is…

Update: So the EKG was pretty easy – as Nathanael Boehm mentioned – 15 seconds – got the results with a sheet of paper of a bunch of squiggly lines. A precautionary monitor of your heart. Should be fine.