Simply Not Simple

The worst day ever

Or at the very least one of the worst days ever.  I'm still too in the middle of it to tell.  I went to the doctor today because of my mom, Gib, Pam and Karmyn's advice.  Because of the inherent insanity of someone who knows a little too much about medical issues I was tempted to wait forever.  I kind of didn't mention an important detail when I talked about the leg pain and that is the fact that I have a lymph node that has been growing for over a month that I have been desperate to ignore.  The incident with the really bad bone pain the other night, on top of some really good advice caused me to see my favorite, but very hard to get in to see, doc.

After telling him about the lymph node, and him checking it out, and discussing the OTHER issues that I've been ignoring he decided that I needed to be tested for lymphoma.  This is THE worst scenario and one I thought my overactive imagination was making up, but no.  Even after studiously avoiding my fears while talking to him he decided to test my thyroid, gallbladder, Hepatitis panel (because of my damn tattoo), and blood tests for a lot of the possible autoimmune disease.  Then, after feeling the lymph node he decided to add blood tests for lymphoma, and a bone scan.

My aunt has lymphoma, Gib's grandpa died a few years after chemo because it weakened his heart and my neighbor's mom has it.  I am scared, worried and upset that my worst fears may possibly be grounded in reality.  I can live with thyroid or gallbladder problems, I'm scared at the thought of the others.

I thought my day had gotten as bad as possible, but I get home to find a Bear (the tackling, loving giant) who hadn't eaten his food (which, believe me, never EVER happens), and following me around with the saddest expression of "you have to fix me".  He was so sad and obviously sick, so I took him in to the vet at 6:30 PM and missed almost all of the kid's trick-or-treating.  Bear is a sock eater and I had been warned by his my friend who is also his breeder that he could potentially get an obstruction from this.  Gib and I always joked that it was a good thing he was so big because he was always pooping them out.  Not tonight.  Somehow in some bizarre twist of Marnie-like dog Halloween tragedy Bear is now in surgery for an obstruction in his stomach.  I'm waiting for news, and I left the vet over two hours ago and they said they were going to do the surgery soon.  He has to have exploratory surgery to find out where it is and remove it.

I'm so worried.  About my dog and myself.  I'm SO ready for a new day.  I'm even more ready for the damn vet to call me back and tell me that he's okay.  He's okay, right?  I can't even imagine if he isn't.

**********Update************

Bear should be okay.  He had a toy with a sock wrapped around it that had gotten stuck between his stomach and his small intestine. The unwrapped part of the sock had continued down and was being pulled.  There was another piece of toy stuck in that sock too.  The vet said if we had waited another day he most likely wouldn't have made it. He ended up with two incisions and no necrosis (which is the best possible news) I've probably said this before, but I've never really loved a dog until we got Ginger and then Bear.  I never knew how much joy, and in Bear's case, comfort they would bring to our lives.  Bear is the sweetest, most snuggliest dog. I can hug him forever and he almost enjoys it as much as I do.  My children are in trouble and there will have to be new rules.  No clothes out where he can reach them ever, clean or dirty and no toys out unless you are sitting right there with the dog and put it up when you're done, but Bear will be coming home late tomorrow or Friday and hopefully this will show them quite graphically what happens when certain rules aren't followed.  I'd choose something other thant a $2000 surgery to fix their attitudes, but since this is what has happened, this is what must be done.  I love my Bear Bear, I'm so glad he's okay.  I've got to deal with  my news too.  But this big boy:

                     

Is going to be okay.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Whew!

********To those of you who came here for Swampy's (my) post, it's the one below this.  However, feel free to read my grad school saga part 300,124*****************

Sometimes it's advisable to do your research under the Dean of Graduate Studies (yes, it's capitalized because he's just that important).  I am a major freaker-outer and even though I graduate in 6 weeks, I have hardly done any research.  We are researching a new computer program that will analyze ECG data in a new way, and seems to be more accurate at diagnosing heart attacks and arterial blockages.  My main focus is just typing the data from the program into a spreadsheet for further analysis.  So, basically I come out of this with a masters in typing things into Excel, um,  I mean Biomedical Science (also capitalized, because it's all I have).  If you've never seen an ECG before, this is what they look like.  If you don't know what an ECG is, it's a measurement of electrical current of the heart.  If there is a blockage or a heart attack the signal changes and computer programs can let a doctor know what is going on.

 

I have been freaking out because I have something like 1200 sets of data to enter and as of today I'm on #37.  I was supposed to be doing this all summer but the program was never finished so it's really down to the wire.  Because I'm not a calm, rational person this has translated to all kinds of chaos.  I can never track down my advisor because he hasn't been Dean for long and is in 18 kajillion meetings daily, so I haven't been able to get in to work on the program nearly as much as I would like.  I told him today that I was panicky and he told me not to worry because the data had already been statistically analyzed.  Whatever I get done is great, but whatever I don't do is no problem.  My contribution is mainly validating the program and manually checking for errors.  I was reassured today that I didn't need to freak out.  I have to do as much as possible on the program, write a paper (but not a thesis, because I'm a non-thesis student) and give a seminar and I'm DONE.  Well, that and I also have to write another paper, give another presentation and finish statistics from hell, but THEN I'm done.  The wonderful thing is I do NOT need to freak out about graduating any more.

Sometimes it pays to choose your advisor well.  Or as it just so happens, it pays be told who you're working with and what you're working on because the Dean was Chairman of the Department  when I started and since I work in the department I don't really get much say in anything.  At least it's worked out to be more to my benefit than I anticipated.

WOOHOO!!!! I'm almost done!!!

My important meeting today.....

Was with Swampy!!!!  That woman is just as darn adorable and funny in real life as she is on the blog.  I love, love this lady.  And unlike Melissa and Marnie, who for some reason think I'm a stalker, Swampy actually contacted me when she knew she was going to be in this grand state.  I was excited, but nervous.  I walked into Panera Bread and it was crowded. I looked for a dark haired woman with a computer and sidled up beside her and probably nearly scared the beejeepers out of her.  I'm not sure now what expression was on her face, it must have been fear or maybe she looked like she was going to bolt,  because I grabbed her wrist!  Yeah, her wrist.  Stupid ER training.  You sneak up on someone, scare them and then have to make sure their heart is still beating.  Well, technically I don't think you are supposed to sneak up on people, but we were always checking pulses.  Don't worry, I didn't kill Swampy, even though we almost did get run over in the parking lot.  We spent awhile trying to figure out how to connect her internet, but she has some weird firewall and we couldn't figure it out.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Then there was this:

I don't know why, but Swampy just doesn't seem as touchy-feely as I am.  You can see the horror on her face and the fact that she's looking around for someone (maybe even the dude that tried to kill us 5 minutes later) to take her keys away and rescue her from the loving kisses of her fan friend.  I was just so filled with love and awe for this incredible woman that I just HAD to kiss her.

We only took a couple pics each, and only spent about an hour together since she was kind of on a schedule as was I, but that hour was wonderful.  I'm so glad we met.  I think the two of us could talk non-stop for days.  Swampy and I talked a lot about my kids and she told me about hers, but I'm pretty sure I did most of the talking.  Dear Swampy, you are wonderful at putting people at ease.  Thank you.  Just so you know I thought Panera was overstimulating too.  We are two peas in a pod I tell ya, two peas in a pod. 

A couple more pics of us:

Don't we look sweet even though we're squinting into the sun?  Would you believe my natural hair color is definitely closer to hers than the lighter color I've had for almost a year?  Did you know that this picture is actually cropped to show mostly our faces?  Wanna know why?  Are all these questions annoying?  Sorry.

It's because sadly, my  boobs are about the same size as her entire torso.  Reality check!  Maybe I really need to check into reduction surgery again.  And weight loss.

Swamps, you are awesome!  I am SO glad I had the opportunity to meet you! I'm very, very sorry if I scared you with my kisses and boobs, and I only wish we'd had more time to talk!  Maybe next time?  Or Wednesday?  How's Wed for you? 

Readers and readees (huh!?!) her computer was blocking her from looking at other sites even though she was able to get into her own and post for Fun Monday. I've certainly missed her around my blog. Her daughter is supposed to try and help her fix the problem.  I'm pretty sure she's going through blogdrawals!  She wants you to know she's not avoiding or ignoring anyone on purpose.

Phantom pain...... or not?

Last night my right leg hurt SOOO bad.  I did this two or three years ago, but I haven't significantly injured it since then.

Last night though, OH MY GOSH!  It hurt SO bad, so SO bad that pain pills did not work and I couldn't sleep at all.  I don't know what the deal was, but it hurt exactly where the first bone had broken.  I finally got up, wrapped it in an ace bandage and for some reason that helped and I was finally able to get to sleep

Any clue what this was?  There was no change in the weather and I didn't do anything different yesterday (like rock climbing or skydiving).  My bones have been really achy in the evening for about a month, but this was a precise, mocking pain that was literally like a ghost of my broken leg.  Has anyone experienced this?  What the heck is it?  Any help here?  I tried explaining it to Gib but I think he filed it in his mental folder of "if Jenn ever gets some stupid idea like divorcing me, I just need to see a lawyer and she'll be in the looney bin".  Not that he needs that mental folder, but if he did he would have a fairly thick one.

To add insult to injury, at dog training today I fell in a hole and twisted my ankle.  It was the left one this time.  I guess it's okay because my right one doesn't hurt anymore.  I'm not sure which was worse, phantom pain or real pain.

A grad story

Someone was talking about the fifty states the other day and it reminded me of a story. My first year of grad school was done at a small, private, expensive college here in town (where I also received my bachelors).  One day some other grad students and I got in a discussion about naming all fifty states.  I don't remember how or why this discussion even started but one of us got out a piece of paper, numbered it and we started writing down the states.

We only got to 49.  These are some of the smartest people I've ever met, yet we couldn't remember the elusive state, the state that got away.  This discussion ended up lasting for somewhere close to 2 hours.  We went around asking other grad students, undergrads and professors.  Everytime some one said "Oh, how about this state" it was already on our paper.  We were SO frustrated.  We even got on the computer and printed out a list of the states but we STILL couldn't figure out which one we had missed.

After two hours of our lives wasted, one of the undergrads came in and checked our numbering.  The person numbering the paper had put the same number down twice.

Oh yes, the brightest of the bright, the smartest of the smart.  Unfortunately counting did not seem to be anyone's forte.  That day will stand forever in my mind as being an example of why "Occam's Razor" is important, and how sometimes small details mean everything.

*********On a completely different note:  Friends Of Swampy- she is not lost.  She's in OKLAHOMA!!!!!!  Her in-laws don't have internet, so when I talked to her today (I TALKED to her!!!! On the PHONE!!!! SWAMPY!!!!) she told me to let everyone who visited me know that she can't get to your blog or hers but she's circling on her broom.  I get to meet up with her Monday!  I am SO excited!!!!!**********

Communication is key

How do I know that?  Because I'm a genius?  Nope, it's definitely nothing like that.

Gib FINALLY, FINALLY got his promotion.  (There is a long story behind it including him moving to Santa Fe for 6 months, us not moving, etc, etc...)   I called him today and he had just signed the papers, and being the eerily psychic person I am (NOT!) I called  right when his boss was asking "so what will your wife think about this?"  He said, "I don't know, let's ask her" and told me "I just got done signing the letter."  I told him I was so happy for him and then ran around my floor squealing and texting people.  We knew he was going to take a paycut, so I called him back a little while later and asked him how much he was going to make.  He told me a number that was $15000 less than he makes a year now.  I got really upset, told him I was going to have to start teaching 3 classes a week instead of one and hung up.  I freaked out and decided to go home so I could "make" myself happy for Gib and deal with the ginormous financial strain.  I made it as far as our secretary, ahem academic assistant, and started bawling.  I cried for about an hour and a half.  Then I settled down and saw one of my favorite people and we talked for awhile.  Gib had called me back while I was talking to her and after she left I called to see what he wanted.  He made some comment about why he didn't know why I was freaking out and said "well, how much do I make now?"  I told him the per year number, he told me the new per year number and then laughed his ASS off when he realized he had told me the per month number and didn't describe it as such, and I had thought he was talking about the per year number.  He laughed and laughed and said "that's what communication is for Jenn."

I wasted 2 good hours of my life. I still feel sick from the emotion of my spaz-out earlier.  Please don't do this to yourself, ever.  Just remember, communication is key.

I SOOOOO need a new job, aka the post where Jenn whines

but doesn't post pictures of her kids.  I TRIED to get Melissa to run for president with me, but she wouldn't because she's queasy (whatever, Melissa) and I can't be the smartest person in the world, because she and Karmyn keep beating me at WT's trivia.  My therapist told me today that I need to get a new job and I should "get over" not being in med school.  I have to give her that, I'm still a little bitter.  So I thought I'd show some pics of how they're trying to kill me, and I'm trying to kill myself at work.

Exhibit A:

Look!  They installed a window between my lab and the autoclave room!  Suh-weet.  Unfortunately that window is there because of the gas leak I've been complaining about for nearly 2 years.  The physical plant people refused to believe me because by the time they got their butts up there, the smell had always dissipated.  FINALLY, after I complained for 2 years and the person in the lab before me complained for at least 3 years they discovered the leak behind my natural gas outlet.  They haven't come back to make sure they actually DID fix the leak.  Also, that red bag behind my lab?  It's biomedical waste that has to be autoclaved, a direct pathway to possible pathogens.  See why I need a new job?

Exhibit B:

The lab across the hall is a biosafety level 2.  He works with a pathogen and I go in there on a daily basis to borrow his scale.  Just what everyone wants for a neighbor, right?  The duck and the microscope are scary too when that's all you have to look at all day long.  That duck is in my dreams (and my nightmares). 

Exhibit C:

I like these culture plates.  Aren't they pretty?  I made them myself.  They grew out after only being exposed to the air for 30 seconds in different places in the lab.  I'm particularly fond of "toxic mold", it goes well with natural gas explosions.  A close up of toxic mold:

Exhibit C:

See this sign?  This is the sign beside my door.  I have FUN things to play with like flammable solvents, toxic chemicals and biohazards.  Who WOULDN'T want my job?

See this close up?

I'm an idiot, so I don't follow this rule.

Ignore the bad hair, no makeup and apparent black eyes (dont worry, that's just natural gas and toxic mold exposure working their magic) and check out how daring I am. Daring AND stupid.  Great combo.

At this point I figure if the toxic mold and natural gas don't kill me, what's a little sucker going to do?

I NEED A NEW JOB!  DESPARATELY!  AND NOW!

Am I getting obnoxious with the kids pics?

I'm sure I probably am.  Kind of like a co-worker who shows up with cutsie stories and pics every day, but you really don't want to see them?  I'm actually not too bad at work, mostly because I sit in my lonely lab all by myself so I do it here.  But really? My kids ARE cute.

To make up for the predominant Kelsie-ness of my recent posts, here are some of Preston:

I actually BOUGHT these pictures, don't worry.

This pic was taken just over six months ago.  The change is unbelievable (to me anyway, especially because I don't want to believe it).

I even TOOK these action shots myself:

I wish I'd had my camera Saturday.  He was shoved into the ref.  It was funny.  Sure I have a twisted sense of humor, why do you ask?

But seriously, if someone had told me 16 years ago that I would have five kids and they would grow up to be cheerleaders, football players, soccer players and baseball players I would have laughed my ass off.  I do not have an athletic bone in my body unless dropping things and being clumsy as hell has become an olympic sport lately (I don't watch the news).  They get their athleticism from their dad and their beauty from me. I'm sorry, was that obnoxious?  I can't help it.

Did I mention I'm very lonely at work?

And thanks to Monkling I was able to figure out the google reader I already had an account with.  Who knew it was as easy as clicking "Add subscription" for each blog you want to add?  Obviously not me.  Thanks to all the rest of you for your advice, now reading blogs is even EASIER.  I promise I will get back to commenting to my commenters, I've been sucky lately.

Alright, I can't take it any more

What the heck kind of "reader" do you use?  How does it work?  I tried the other day because I just use the links on my sidebar to visit my favorite people and I don't know what the heck I did, but it didn't "feed" me anything.

Please help me.  I'm embarrassed I don't know (for no good reason, really), and I think it would make my life easier.  Or something.  I need help.  I'm pretty sure I'm the last person in the universe who doesn't know this.  Thanks!

Not really stealing....

So please ignore the "proof" stamped across these pictures.  I plan on buying them all, I promise!

I vividly remember Gib and I taking a vacation with Kelsie when she was about 2 years old.  I had never thought of her as being cute or pretty, she was just my baby.  For some reason I saw her with different eyes that day and I told Gib "oh my gosh, she is going to be beautiful when she grows up."  Never in my wildest imagination did I expect this:

I'm not bragging really, I'm just stunned at just how grown up and BEAUTIFUL my child is.

It was just yesterday that she was two....