Why do doctors do this?

I'm going to be looking for a different sleep apnea doctor.  I'd sent my current sleep apnea doctor an email saying that I'd been suffering from fatigue (yep, it's still an issue), and that I'd like to at least get my machine checked and perhaps get a new sleep study, since I've lost 145 pounds in the past year.  Now, keep in mind this is Kaiser, so she has access to everything in my chart, and it's been a couple of weeks since I sent the email to her (in her defense, she was on vacation). 

She started off with "sometimes if you don't sleep well at night, it can lead to fatigue".  Right.  I've been dealing with sleep apnea for over 10 years now = when I say fatigue, I'm not talking a little "didn't sleep well, so I'm drowsy".  I'm talking sleeping 12 - 14 hours a day and still being tired.  Which she would know, if she'd look at my chart.  But that's not the big thing that frustrated me.  She closed with "I hope you have undertaken a daily exercise program, as that can be so important to weight loss".  What, 145 pounds in a year wasn't enough for you?  Second, you are not my general practitioner, you're not my nutritionist, you're not involved in my weight loss plan in any way.  Why do you feel it necessary to bring this up in a brief email? 

I've dealt with this all my adult life - going in to a doctor with the flu and having them bring up my weight, generally in a "did you know that weight can affect your immune system?" kind of way.  I suspect people who smoke get the same thing  - oh, you broke your ankle?  Did you know that smoking can decrease your healing potential?  We get it - we've got bad habits, you feel entitled to shame us for them.  But when I'm actively working to cure that bad habit, continuing to shame me is not acceptable.  Sorry, Dr. F, but I'm firing you. 

Frustrations with faith

Genetically, I'm Mormon.  My ancestors pushed everything they owned across the Great Plains to Utah to help found the church - in fact, my ancestors were that special kind of committed Mormons who were told to go down south to the desert and try to grow cotton and didn't respond with "are you kidding?" My family is all Mormon (ok, Mom took a break from the church for about 30 years, but she came back to the faith).  In my soul, most of the beliefs ring true - families are forever to me, we are eternal souls, and this body is just a pitstop on the way to better things, teachings of the church are for everyone to discover and distribute, not just for a priest class to hand down from on high...  I should be one of the faithful. 

But I can't manage to bring myself to do it.  Every time I think that the Church elders are finally going to come to their senses and stop concentrating on homosexuality, some new article in the Ensign or some speaker in Sacrament meeting reminds me that they've only come so far as to acknowledge that homosexuality itself doesn't damn you, only the practical application does.  Oh, they'll say that any sex outside of marriage is a sin, but then they fight tooth and nail (and millions of dollars) to make sure same-sex marriage does not pass.  Why are they concentrating on identifying and trumpeting about that which divides us, rather than that which brings us together?  And with all the science that has proven that sexuality is innate, not taught, why concentrate on this particular trait?  Someone can not be damned for having blue eyes or for being left-handed - why just this one particular set of genetic code?

Speaking of genes...  My mother is one of the most inquisitive, intelligent, thoughtful women I know.  She has immense gravitas and did a spectacular job serving as the officiant for Brigid's wedding - there were a few tears (not just mine).  She would make a fantastic member of the bishopric if it weren't for the lack of that "Y" gene.  She's not alone - many of the women in my family are strong both in their faith and in their talents.  It makes no sense to me for a church to sideline half of its talent this way, or shunt them off to running the Relief Society. 

So, I'm a woman without a country - or at least without a church.  No other church feels right to me, but yet, the LDS church doesn't feel like I'm right for it.  Fortunately for me, my family does not shun me for this - they seem to love me despite my being the neon-pink sheep of the family. 

Observations from the pool

We went swimming again today - note to self, do not go on a weekend.  You can not handle that level of "happy noises of young children" (or as I refer to it, natural birth control).  It was lovely to see how many fathers were there with their kids, though - it was maybe half and half mothers and fathers. 

After slogging around the course for my 16 repetitions (and cursing the obnoxious girl hanging onto a lilypad and splashing/kicking in the current pool - the whole point is you don't have to propel yourself, which means you're just doing this to annoy me, young wench!  And get off my lawn.), we went to warm up in the hot tub.  We ended up sitting between this older couple (maybe late 60s?) and a young couple.  The young guy was giving the girl a bit of a backrub, and it was pretty obvious that they were newly dating - they didn't have the ease of anyone who has actually seen the other one naked.  I was tempted to tell her that backrubs are nice, but look for a guy who's going to be around to help you out of the hot tub when you're my age and don't fit into a bikini, or be willing to trudge around the channel pool, getting splashed by obnoxious children, just to try to get you healthy enough to stay around a few more years.  That's a guy worth keeping.

I'm back and running

Thank goodness for emergency back-up husband #1 (otherwise known as Kevin the computer-whisperer).  Mad as hell at Comcast - they were less than helpful to say the least.  I'm seriously thinking about switching, but the whole objection to DirecTV still exists (I don't want to lose service to rain), but it would still be better than being without internet for 3 days. 

In other news - I'm starting swimming/channel-walking with Mom to try to get in surgery-strength.  I'm upping it by two laps each time - up to 14 now and my legs feel like noodles tonight (that, and the chlorine in the pool dries my skin out to the point where it feels like there are ants running up and down inside my skin.)

Stand back! I think she's going critical!

Today's rant is brought to you courtesy of Comcast and Kaiser Permanente - both lovely companies, I'm sure, but who really don't have a clue when it comes to automated Customer Service. 

First off - Comcast.  I have my phone, internet and cable all bundled through them (I know, I could probably get it cheaper somewhere else, but I tried DirectTV and I kept losing my TV every time there was a heavy rain or it got windy.  I live in Oregon, where the two seasons are the rainy season and July 14th, and I live right off the west end of the Columbia Gorge, better known as the wind tunnel of the great Northwet..  That's a non-starter.) 

I've been having this intermittent issue where the modem suddenly decides that it can't see my wireless router and I lose internet service (and occasionally my phone line).  It's frustrating, but I've been able to get through by cycling the modem and the router and blahblahblahblah... anyway, today I'd finally had it and wanted to get the darn thing fixed.  So, I break down and call Comcast.  Why did it take me so long to call?  Because I knew what I was going to have to go through to get to a live person.  First off, I'm calling from my home line - the one they provide me with.  They still require me to jump through hoops to get to anyone.  First, I have to provide them with the last four digits of my account number.  Quick, off the top of your head, without being able to access the internet (because it's down, of course), do you know the last four digits of a random utility account number that you autopay every month?  Then, of course, I have to listen to them yammer on about how I can check the status of the internet service by going to comcast.com - yeah, did I mention that I'm calling BECAUSE MY INTERNET DOESN'T WORK?  And it's not like this is a random thing they throw in on every line - this bit doesn't come up until after I tell this computer that my internet isn't working.  Then, of course, because they still don't trust that this person who is calling in on my phone line, which they provided to me, is actually me, I have to give them my home address, the last four numbers of my SSN and the name of my unborn firstborn child. All before I actually talk to someone, who is then going to have to pass me along to the second level customer service because frankly at this point, I know more about my modem than they do.  A second level customer service rep who has to ask me for my name, address and SSN yet again.  This is not customer service.  This is customer prevention.  On the other hand, Matthew (who had a lovely southern accent) was a peach and did his best to fix my problem, then when he realized my modem is possessed by Satan, was happy to set up someone to come out tomorrow.  That part of the customer service was lovely...

As for Kaiser - I can't complain all that much about them, they're keeping me alive.  But considering the fact that they are keeping me alive, and that they know damn well all my medical issues, don't send me a yearly personalized computer letter saying "Do you know you need a pap smear, and that you should have your A1C checked, and that you should get a BMI screening" (seriously, a BMI screening?  I've lost 145 pounds this year - what do they want from me, carving off a couple of butt cheeks?)    Then the computer has the nerve to finish up with "Managing your health is important to us.  This is a personalized summary of your health care needs".  No, it's not a personalized summary - or they would know that I have a form of uterine cancer that isn't detectible by a pap smear, and I had a A1C screening in mid-March.  Kim, who keeps watch on me and cheerleads for me, or my own Dr Wang, who answers my emails even when I'm a little incoherent  - they are personalized care and I love and appreciate them.  A random listing of tests that are not even checked with my chart - that's just an annoyance that's perpetrated so that Kaiser Corporate can cross off some "proactive health agenda" list.  Don't try to think it's customer service - I'm not the one getting served here.

It's not Hollywood romantic

It's not Hollywood romantic, lying here next to you. 
For one thing, there's Moose the weiner-block, shoved up between us, zealously guarding his status as an only child.  And I'm pretty sure that Hollywood would never approve a heroine wearing a breathing-mask that makes her sound like Darth Vader - whooshing breath sounds that are only drowned out by the dual snores coming from both man and Moose. 

But every once in a while, when the alarm blares out, we manage to carve out 9 minutes where we are curled together in a cocoon of warmth, and I can feel our breathing in perfect unison.  Your arm is protective around me, keeping back the horrors of the coming morning, and that... right there.  It's not Hollywood romantic, but it's so much better. 

Not-So-Happy Anniversary, Hank.

It's a year.  It's been an interesting year, but at least I made it through, and I'm intending to keep making it through, so... (close your eyes, family and anyone who still thinks of me as a delicate flower) F you, Hank, and the cancerous cells you rode in on.

Eat hearty, dude - you're going down!

Next step - getting my heart in shape for surgery, finding out what the hell is causing my fatigue and beating that, and trying to get my blood sugar back under control.  Three days with a half-dose of the Megace, and I seem to be ok, so I'm hoping that will help, but I woke up last night around 2:00 with a blood-sugar level of 69, so there's still going to be some fine tuning involved.  My doctor spun this as a positive thing - if Hank is to start growing, at least I'm at the point now where they can get him out, but they just want to optimize my chances of being healthy after the surgery - but I'm still having a hard time getting over the disappointment. But I will. 

Placeholder Post

I'll write more later, but for tonight, I'm emotionally wiped out and heading for bed.  Just wanted to let anyone following along not on facebook know that the Dr. appointment did not quite go the way I hoped it would (still no surgery date), but I'm battling past the disappointment and trying to take this as a good thing.  Basically, right now, since Hank isn't redecorating yet and is choosing to play relatively nice with others, she wants to work on getting me healthier so that I have a better shot at surviving the surgery - work on trying to figure out what's causing this extreme fatigue and see if cutting back on the Megace will help me get my blood sugar under better control.  I'll see her again around the first of June, and we'll see what happens then.

Updatish...

Tomorrow is the day... I'm meeting with Dr. Steiner, and finding out when I will be going under the knife (and which kind of knife it's going to be.)  I'm a tad freaked out tonight - ok, I'm tremendously freaked out.  Spending the last year on knife-edge, waiting... it's not that I don't want to move on, it's just that I've gotten comfortable on this knife-edge.  Well, not exactly comfortable, but I know how to react here, I know where I am, I know this space.  And I really, really hate change. 

On the other hand, I want to get Hank out of me.  I think I hate Hank more than I hate change.  But that's going to be hard, and painful, and involve a lot of change.  It's not like I'm going to not do this, but I'm just feeling scared.  And tired.  But mostly scared.

Electronics have been forsaking me lately

Lately, we've been having problems with our cable modem box, so I was excited when I went to log in to work this morning and the internet was doing well - until I went to call my boss and I had no dial tone.  Finally fixed the phone, at which point, the internet buggered off.  Got them both in working order and now my Kindle is freaking out.  Apparently, the Goddess Electronica is not happy with the current sacrifice material - I may need a fresher batch of hamsters.  All in all, good time to go to bed.  Goodnight, all.

Shopping, shopping, shopping

I've finally broke down and started buying new stuff - still not brave enough to try things on in the store, but I found some nice pants (including some bicycle printed jams that may end up replacing my puppy pants), and a couple of really nice printed shirts with purple tones - apparently there's a trend this year for trapeze style shirts, which given my hourglass with the sand ran down figure really work.  And I got it all with a pair of socks for $130, so I'm feeling suave.  I had to go down a size from what I would be comfortable with on a couple of the pants (they were out of my actual size), so I figure I'll shrink into them. 

Quick post tonight

I went into the office today (I've started trying to go in on Fridays - that way I get to touch bases with people, but I still have a couple of days to recover.  So far, it's working well.)    It's amazing seeing the changes in the building every time I come in - they're changing it over from being exclusively Government offices to commercial space, which so far seems to mean retro-fitting the elevators with disco laminate and lighting and putting in a wall full of plants (vertical wall full of plants - I see this lasting about a month before they start dying off...)  Oh, and dynamic fonts on the signage. 

I just hope the upcoming bathroom retrofit means that they'll be getting rid of some of the more annoying aspects.  I don't know who designed the women's bathroom, but I'm pretty sure that it was a guy who was going through a painful divorce.  There's no other reason to put not one, but two metal boxes with sharp edges right at knee level in each of the stalls (thus not only endangering your knees, but reducing spreading capacity), and to make sure that each of the doors are hung so that there is at least half an inch between the door and the wall it's supposed to meet up with.  Oh, and making sure that both of the paper towel holders are located at one end of the long line of sinks, all of which are designed so that they will leak and splash water on the counter right where it will get your shirt wet if you lean over to wash your hands.  Maybe I don't miss going into the office as much as I thought I did.

Things that bring back memories

I saw a picture today of an old plastic clear yellow tumbler - it was exactly like the one that Grandma used to use to cut Parker House Rolls with.  Well, to be more specific, it was exactly like the one that she used to have me cut the rolls with - from the time I was old enough to reach the table the dough was spread out on.  She would knead the dough in her KitchenAid, then I would cut out the rolls, and she would dip them in melted butter and we'd fold them over and bake them up.  Nothing will ever taste as good as those rolls.

Cancer Is A Jerk, Part 324

I'm angry at cancer for a lot of reasons, but this week's pet peeve is a bit of an odd duck.  Let me see if I can put it into words...

Prior to the diagnosis, I felt like the road was fairly sturdy beneath me.  There were a few bumps and bobbles, but in general, life was going forward, I was still relatively immortal, I was secure in the knowledge that women in my family tend to hang in longer than queens of England (to paraphrase Eddie Izzard, she's strapped into that throne and she's not going anywhere).  All the sudden, there was this huge crack in my sidewalk.  Heck, not just my sidewalk, but my mother's sidewalk as well.  While Mom has made it past the crack just fine, and I'm building a bridge to the other side, I'm aware of the cracks now.  I didn't ever see them before, but now I'm having to pay attention to where my feet land, aware that at any moment another crack may open up and swallow me.  I can't skip ahead anymore, I have to deliberately place each step, and it's so much more exhausting to be slow and careful.  I have a residual level of fear in the back of my mind now, and talking to friends who have gone through this and are NED (no evidence of disease or remission), they feel the same way.  Which makes me say, yet again, cancer is a jerk.

Finally - What My Training Has Prepared Me For

My aunt called today - she's in charge of the post office in her very small town, and her post office got it by taggers.  (Quick PSA - Tagging is bad.  Don't tag.  Especially don't tag public buildings - our Government has enough problems with money without having to deal with your jerky boasts about the size of your equipment.  Also, learn how to spell.)

Anyway, Sherri called me to ask what the going rate was for a company to come out and clean graffiti off her walls.  Using my years of training and vast Google-fu, I was able to give her a recommendation on a product that would do the trick, give her approximate pricing for a contractor to come out and pass her the contact info.  And (best part) I learned about Elephant Snot (tm).  It feels good to know I still have the touch - I was worried that going over to the SysAdmin side had dulled my finely honed buyer senses.  (Forget #humblebrag, I'm just going for #straightoutbrag.)

The rest of the day was lovely as well - Mom gave me a lovely new purple ombre' shirt with grey and purple beading, Daniel gave me a lovely purple shirt with neat embroidery, I got another batch of flowers (this time without emotional freight), and I took today as a (Idon'tseeyou) day on my diet and we pigged out on pizza for dinner.  Wonderful day...