Author: wrekehavoc

the bitch is back

the bitch is back

i remember when i was a smug singleton… even a smug, married, non-parent, i’d add. i would look at people who had children in upscale restaurants and wonder why these noisy little screamers were ruining my meal. i vowed that when i had children, i would not take them to restaurants until they were good and ready to go. and i sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin anyone’s upscale dinner unless i knew for certain that my kids would behave. i was as good as my word, and i still get bent when i see parents bringing kids to really nice restaurants who are not ready to behave in said places. i figure, shoot, i did my time for society and ate at lots of places with kiddy menus; why can’t they make the short-term sacrifice, too?

fast forward to today.

we had a yummy dinner at nam viet, one of the last surviving vietnamese restaurants in the area formerly known as little hanoi tonight. as we walked in (my kids actually behaving perfectly for once), i saw a late 20-early 30-something woman and man grimace as we were seated next to their table. i then overheard the woman say to the waiter, “you probably should move us, as i don’t think they are going to move.” needless to say, i didn’t like what i heard. it isn’t like my kids came in screaming or shouting, running amok and sticking chopsticks up their snoots. they were behaving better than a lot of adults i know. so of course, i did what any jersey-girl mother would do. i hissed.

i looked right at the lady, and i said, “i hope your uterus dries up.”

around these parts, i am known as a class act.

push the button

push the button

oh, to be a world citizen and enjoy the mayhem that is eurovision, the contest bemoaned by my beloved helsinki complaints choir. but i’m american, and like most americans, i have no bloody clue about this american idol-istic contest among a zillion nations for best song. now, mind you, i also have no idea why it inspires such fervor. maybe it started in france. maybe jerry lewis has something to do with it. i really don’t know.

but i’m astonished about the hubbub surrounding the israeli entry by a band called teapacks. it seems that the eurovision likes their songs with a side of milquetoast, please:

Eurovision is threatening to ban Israel’s entry for its annual song contest in because of its “inappropriate” political message. “Push the Button”, the song from one of Israel’s most experienced and popular bands, Teapacks, has lyrics that go to the heart of the country’s most prevalent security fears, but in tones tinged with irony. The words of the song – in English, French and Hebrew, – have already been interpreted as addressing fears of a strike by Iran as well as attacks by Palestinian militants. In one verse the band sing: “The world is full of terror/ If someone makes an error/ He’s gonna blow us up to biddy biddy kingdom come/ There are some crazy rulers they hide and try to fool us/ With demonic, technologic willingness to harm.”

Kjell Ekholm, an organiser of the contest, said: “It’s absolutely clear that this kind of message is not appropriate for the competition.” But the threat may say as much about Eurovision’s dogged preference for the bland at all costs as about the song itself.

duh. i think abba won for waterloo back in the day. i guess political content is not permitted, although apparently plenty of people in israel are afraid of iran blowing them to biddy biddy kingdom come, as the lyrics say; and if i were one of them, i would be, too. it’s not like the person in charge of iran hasn’t threatened to basically obliterate israel, and they apparently have some sort of nuclear program in development.

i wonder what iran’s entry will be. oh wait, i bet secular music isn’t permitted there.

preliminary verdict

preliminary verdict

i heard from my doctor in philly yesterday. she can’t say definitively yet — she wants to wait for my post-test, and she also wants to consult with some colleagues — but the signs are pointing toward treatment. apparently, my sinus scan showed i am quite the veteran with sinusitis (i wonder how they can tell that!), and only 3 out of 14 pneumococcal IGG Types were in the protective range (they usually hope for 7 or 8). my chest scan showed little thingies (yes, a medical term) lymph nodes, but as they are smaller than (i think she said) 4 cm, they aren’t considered significant. people with CVID usually show definite signs of never-ending sinusitis and/or some broncheo-something. (basically, lots of bronchial issues/pneumonia/that sort of thing. sorry. my brother could probably speak about this in more intelligent terms since he is both a doctor and a person with CVID.) i have been congested so long in my life, i don’t even realize i have sinus issues. so it looks like i’ll be hooked up to an IV every 4 weeks for the “foreseeable future” (which must be the euphemism doctors use instead of saying “for the rest of your life.”)

it sucks, but there’s a treatment, so it’s not as bad as something without a treatment. i’m not thrilled with the treatment, as it is expensive, has some risks, and is not the sort of thing i want to have to do every 4 weeks. but you gotta do what you gotta do, and i’m thankful i have health insurance and the ability to get treatment, as there are probably zillions of people who aren’t as fortunate.

still, i’m bummed.

donuts. is there nothing they can't do?

donuts. is there nothing they can't do?

krispy kreme has just introduced a new, whole-wheat donut. hold onto your pants, homer: these 180 calorie pups have 4 or 5 grams of trans fats. i’m just waiting for BC, the world’s second most fervent donut lover (second only to her dad, BS) to petition me for a crate of these, pleading that they’re whole wheat so they’re GOOD FOR YOU, MAMA.

yeah. i hear leeches do wonders, too.

medical update

medical update

many people are pissed that i haven’t actually written about my trip to philly to seek a second opinion. i’ll start to remedy that here.

i met with my brother’s immunologist in philly early in feb, and i’ll see her again in early apr. i really, really like her. she, of course, is also a researcher as well as an MD, so she has a very curious interest in the freakshow that is my brother and i. and she already is very familiar with his case since she’s his doctor, so i finally don’t have to explain everything 🙂 i get the feeling that there are two schools of thought vis a vis my treatment. the dr. in bethesda is from the cautious school — he wants me to go on IVIG already because while i am currently not in much danger, he’s afraid that down the road, i will get an infection and it will throw me for a huge loop (especially since i am allergic to several antibiotics). so he’s in the preventive camp. dr. philly, i am sensing, is not as impressed with my numbers (my IGA is in the toilet, but my IGG is merely low) and may just have my immunoglobulins monitored every 3 months or so to see whether i am going south, so to speak. of course, she had me take another HibB immunization so that we could see whether my antibodies rally; i have to go take the post-test on wednesday and we’ll see how i did. i am probably the best immunized grownup in the DC metro area. she’s checking my t-cells, my immunoglobulins, and all sorts of stuff. on the bright side, my platelets seem to still rock 😉
the thing that bothers me more than it bothers my brother is that if this freakshow is genetic (and it appears to be so), then i wonder what this means for my kids and his. i am interested in looking at our genes; my brother feels that if it would impact my treatment, he would go down that path. but if it won’t make a difference, he just doesn’t want to go there. i figure i am fucked as far as health insurance goes, anyway, should i ever switch policies, since i already have a diagnosis of common variable immunodeficiency, so why not check it out. we’ll see what hilarity ensues.

in the meantime, dr. philly told my brother that if i can drag my ass up from DC to see her in PA, the least he can do is drag his ass to PA to take me to lunch after my appts 😉 gotta love this chick. her office staff is screwy, though. they literally moved offices last week, so my reports all went to some place in the sky. i’ve been having stuff re-sent like there’s no tomorrow. i have to prove to the blood folks (quest) that i really am me and really want this stuff to go to my doc’s. sheesh.

so cheer on my antibodies, y’all; last time, they did a little something, though not what a normal (ha!) person’s antibodies would do. i imagine that if we really looked at them, we’d see that they’re probably napping or eating chocolate.

ladybug, ladybug, you're still dead (like francisco franco)

ladybug, ladybug, you're still dead (like francisco franco)

BC came home from school today complaining of stomachache, pains in her leg, a headache, and other assorted maladies. jools was home with me because i wanted to give sleep-deprived BS a break (though i am just as sleep-deprived as he is. but somehow, i’m the mom so i have to stay sane. he’ll probably get to sleep in the basement; i’ll get my bed but also the kids who moan in the night. i don’t think this deal is very fair, but there it is.)

so now, i have the two of them in the basement playing with the bazillion fisher price little people we have amassed over the year: the little people zoo, the little people house, the little people garage, the little people amusement parks (plural because we somehow have two), the little people doctor’s office, well, i could continue, but you get the picture. peace generally reigneth except for every five minutes, i hear one of my own personal little people shriek:

“MAMA, THERE’S A LADYBUG!”

probably due to the world-wide freakshow known as global warming, we have amassed a collection of dead ladybugs in our basement. for some reason, BC thought she’d share her fear of dead or live bugs with her brother. so now, they want me to pick up and remove aforementioned dead bugs every time they find one. which is, apparently, every five minutes according to my watch. i’m about to lose my mind.

so proud of my little blonde chick

so proud of my little blonde chick

eight year old BC announced to BS and i last night: “my favorite bands are the beatles, pink floyd, and the rolling stones.” she then paused, and said: ” my next favorite bands are the go-gos, and, uh, what’s that band that sings our lips are sealed?

uhm. that would be the go-gos AGAIN, little girl.

but at least she didn’t breathe a word about the cheetah girls.

freedom to marry week: invisible grooms

freedom to marry week: invisible grooms

this week has been pretty crazed. i had to figure out how i was going to be chaperoning several three year olds at disney on ice downtown while simultaneously delivering my daughter to her school, which opened two hours late on thursday and friday. i also had to figure out how i was going to be at school for the 100th day of school celebration and plan a mardi gras party for a few little girls on saturday (today). and today, for anyone who cares, is the one year anniversary of my start in the hospital.

so i’m a bit preoccupied.

but i’ve resolved that this is the year i will have FUN. (dammit.) and that is why we had several of BC’s pals from her old school over. we made masks, we made tiaras, we listened to professor longhair and buckwheat zydeco. there are beads and feathers and glitter all over my table.

i love it.

but i think the funniest part of the day was watching the three little girls have a wedding. (i am not making this up.) two of them wrapped themselves up in flowery sheet gowns; and BC was going to be the officiant. one wanted to be the groom, but the other said she’d prefer to marry an invisible groom. i looked for the wedding march on rhapsody. it was a moment.

i enjoyed listening to these eight year olds wax on over why you must marry before you have a baby — clearly we parents have been working overtime on that one. but i realize that none of us have talked much about who can marry or who cannot. i guess i never thought about that much. in the back of my mind, i am hoping that by the time BC and jools are old enough, this will be a non-issue.

move over, yogi

move over, yogi

last night, BS and i were watching an old 30 days show. i love this series by morgan spurlock where he puts opposites together and makes them live together for 30 days. this particular show placed an atheist in a bible-thumping christian home. spurlock cited data that basically showed that atheists are the least-trusted group in america, trailing immigrants, homosexuals, and the like. it was not a surprising show in that the male head of the christian household somehow could not understand how folks who have been born-again essentially steamroll over the beliefs of others. it was driving me crazy listening to this man yammer.

i looked at BS and said to him: “you know, honey, i just can’t tolerate intolerance.”

yep. he made that incredulous face at me, too.

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Cape Town, South Africa