Hi Ho Hi Ho

When I wake up at 5:30 to begin my day of work, I think to myself that, even when it's cold and I don't want to spend much more than a third of my life working, I think "It's all worth while if I can spend my life making sure that some barely evolved religious nutjob on the other side of the world, who would kill me as soon as give me the time of day, after overcoming his fear of my devil-tool and learning to tell time, could live on more that $2 a day."

That's what I think of on those cold mornings.

Thanks Barack Obama

Does Obama even like this country?

I remember when Obama took a stand against letting anyone think he might actually like this country, by refusing to wear an American flag pin, but this video seems more powerful. I don't expect my generally dimwitted fellow Americans to appreciate this country, but I think it would be nice if the leader did.

It's a girl (actually two!)

We got two puppies. Twin girls. Their names are Susan and Janet. They're Beagles.

Brains and Eyes

I have a standing rule, when it comes to recreation and amusement: Don't mess with your brain or your eyes.

These chuckleheads didn't get the memo:

http://damncoolpics.blogspot.com/2008/02/eyelid-piercing.html

You Decide

Has anyone SEEN Barbara and Walter in the same room together at the same time?

I thought not.

A New Year, deferred

Like everybody else, I generally get my act together after the holidays. I quit partying, get back to working out regularly, eat better, etc.
Well. We noticed Zachary's problem as soon as we got back from Christmas. We've been in kind of a holding pattern funk ever since. Then I wrecked my truck. It's just been a shitty 6 weeks.

I went for a long walk last night, and decided that it's time to turn things around.

Since we knew that Zachary was going at any minute, we've had discussions of what dogs to get next. Mrs Schwartz checked all the shelters around (petfinder.com).
She's going, today, to look at two girls at a shelter in the middle of nowhere that look perfect.

I had already quite drinking to get rid of my gout (other than a brief bender Saturday and Sunday). I'm going to stick with that, as well as change my diet. Since I can't lift weights for a while, I'm going to have to focus on cardio and legs (bleh).

More importantly, we had a talk last night and decided that we needed to change our attitude. We need to move forward.

My Boy is Gone

Saturday afternoon Zachary took a turn for the worse. The cancer got hold of him. He was in pain.
Sunday morning, we brought him to an emergency vet.
We held him as he went to sleep.

I'm taking it much harder than I anticipated.

I miss my boy. The house is empty and hollow without him.

Peace of Mind costs $40

Things were going fine last week. I was doing my exercises, getting more flexibility. Then, on Thursday, I felt like a bee stung the back of my hand. Some of the same exercises suddenly caused the same pain. Also, I could now SEE the end of the pin in my hand, at least I could see it poking up under the skin, apparently trying to break through.
This being MY RIGHT HAND, I lean toward not taking chances on getting it working again. I was afraid that, if something went wrong, I could be doing damage to it in the ten days until I see my doctor again. So, I called his office and got an appointment for the next day.
More time off work. I drive down. They take another set of x-rays. He looks at them. He examines my hand.
He tells me that everything is fine. He thinks that it's just that the swelling has reduced, tightening the skin. Three great Dr quotes:
We may have to take out the pin sooner than we thought.

Don't let anything press directly on it. {Remember, the slightest touch causes excruciating pain}

If it comes through the skin, call me. I want to know about it.

The visit cost me $40, but I would have been freaked out until my next visit, so I guess it was worth it.

Ilsa, day 2

She's very impressed with my progress. I quit wearing the cast after the first day, since it impeded my doing all the torture exercises that I'm supposed to do. Pretty much all day, I've been wiggling my fingers and trying to get them to bend. She agreed with that strategy.
I'm supposed to see her mondays and thursdays. She agreed to cut me a deal on the price.

What a pathetic effort.

I got this spam today:

First, that's not my email address. I don't know who vlr_dckns@yahoo.com is.
Second, check "Adrian's" address: "Adrian Numbers" john.naughton@comcast.net

Is Adrian even a girls' name?

I Could Sell Tickets

I'm slowly turning into a sideshow freak. All the laying around like a slug has caused my gout to flare up. So now I'm limping to go along with the cast I got from Ilsa. (Which extends my middle finger)

Any minute now, I should start calling out, YESH MAAAASHTER!


In other news, Mrs Schwartz has a new infection under same tooth which has plagued her again and again. She has to go to a surgeon today.

I'm Paying {Another} Woman to Hurt Me

I went to see my doctor for the follow-up visit today. He took off the cast, took more X-rays, and took out the stitches. I attempted to compliment him on his skill:

Exador: Good job, Doctor. There's hardly any pain at all.
Doc: [laughing] You haven't tried to move it yet.

He then wrapped my hand and gave me the address for the physical therapist.
I went over to her office. She showed me a bunch of exercises that I am supposed to do ten times a day. They all REALLY FUCKING HURT.
We also discovered that there's a 'rotation'. My broken finger is rotated towards my ring finger so they try to cross as I bend them. The therapist, whom I will call Ilsa, didn't seem too bothered by this.
I'm supposed to go back to her on Thursday. She wants me to come in twice a week for eight weeks, but I'm not so sure. We'll see if that's necessary. Ilsa ain't cheap.

Indian food

Mrs Schwartz has this Indian friend, whom she communicates with through IM and emails. The culture exchange has caused her to want to try indian food.
She made something yesterday. I don't what it was. It was so good, I had two bowls. I woke up at 3am and violently puked my guts out. I have felt like shit ever since.

TV sucks

Saturday morning reminded me that hydrocodone and gin don't mix. We were pretty worthless all day, so I spent the day desperately trying to find something decent on tv.
There was nothing.
All day and into the evening.
Nothing.

GA Anti-abortionists are at it again

Reading through HB 1, I remembered that I had read that text before. Apparently, Rep Franklin parades this piece of legislation out every year. I think one difference is that this year, he's added charging abortion doctors with murder 1, thereby qualifying them for the death penalty. Pro-life, indeed.

Screw Communist Healthcare

Thank Jeebus we don't have socialized healthcare. Hillary can go pound sand.

From my experience:

The ER was the worst part, but still not too bad. I had about an hour wait. Stereotypes of the right wing were evident. The ER was overwhelmingly filled with Latinos, many with young children. They may have been dying, but I couldn't see any outward signs of injury. There were also two other white folks there; one elderly woman with a serious enough limp that she eventually got a wheelchair, and a 30's man with a bloody towel wrapped around his hand.

{Gainesville has a huge Latino population, so that's largely expected}

Once I got past the waiting area, my care was quick and competent.

The next morning, I scheduled an appointment with an excellent specialist and picked up my X-rays. Getting my X-rays took 5 minutes and I got them on a CD. My appointment was for two days later.

My surgeon is great. He scheduled my surgery for one week later and gave me prescription for 40 Lortab 7.5, with a refill.

A week later, I'm at the outpatient surgery center. My care is excellent. I get four screws put into my finger and a temporary "wire" put in my hand.

The surgery was about $900, plus anesthesia. X-rays were $35. I'm sure they'll nickel and dime me for a few more things, but ya know, for the extent and quality of the care that I received,that ain't bad.

My New Truck

Life of the handicapped

I thought I'd give you differently-enabled folks some insight into life with one hand. Your left hand.

Blowing your nose with one hand is trickier than you'd think.
Don't make me get into detail on the bathroom, but think about trying to write with your left hand.
Driving involves holding the wheel with my right thumb, while I reach across with my left hand to shift.
My left arm got sore at work from having to operate the mouse and keyboard. Typing is painfully slow.

Overall, I have to be very slow and deliberate in everything.

Bunifa, Can I get Some Service Over Here?

I've had a shitty day. I've gone from one dipshit to another. They all happened to be fat, slow, black women, who all appeared to be incredibly inconvenienced by my presence at their place of work.

It started at Waffle House. It took an hour to get us a waffle, eggs, grits, and cold toast.

We then went to the first car dealer. The 'sales person' assigned to us had no knowledge of her cars, what was on the lot, or what differentiates a four-door, extended cab, V-6, automatic pickup from a two-door, standard cab, 4-cylinder, stickshift pickup. Even after repeatedly explaining the difference, she showed us one after another of the wrong one.

We left.

From there, we went to the credit union to get the financing check, so I'd have it ready for the dealer we were planning on buying from in the first place. Mrs Schwartz had spent the day researching and negotiating over the phone. Bless her, she's far more than I deserve.

There were two identical women working in their little offices at the bank. There were seven people waiting in front of me for these women to finish with the people they were working with. After 30 minutes, one of the waiting people were able to go in and talk to one of these two women.

We left.