Finally, I have something in common with Tom Brady.

Too bad it isn't his salary. What I mean is, for the second time at the beginning of a school year, I have injured my right leg in a ridiculous manner.

You may remember that an unfortunate encounter with a granny cart while merely doing my laundry left part of my shin cored down to the bone and the entirety of me holed up in the hospital for some time after the wound went septic. This time, it was also a fairly innocent event. A little trip to the beach at Cape May, NJ for a couple days, to be exact.

I mainly booked a couple days at the beach because I had my annual forceful yearning to swim in the ocean. However, when we got there, the surf seemed rougher than I expected. There was even a cluster of surfers catching some actual curling waves - not a usual site on many placid New Jersey shores.

At this point, a disagreement broke out between Mrs. Nator and I that went something like this:

Me: Well, going for a swim now!

She: Honey, I'm not sure you should. I don't see many other people in the water.

Me: (Not seeing warning flags posted) Well, it looks a little rough, but we're right here in front of the lifeguard's station. I'm sure it will be fine.

She: (Wading in a bit with me) The current is really strong. I don't think you should go out. Stop going out so far!

Me: Yes, it's strong and pretty cold. I'm kind of surprised. I haven't seen it like this before here. But I really want to go swimming! That's what we freakin' came here for, so I'm going in!

She: (Gripping my forearm) Don't you go in there! It is not safe and I don't want you going in there and getting hurt!

Me: (Flailing) OHMYGOD I AM NEARLY FORTY YEARS OLD AND I HAVE BEEN GOING TO THE BEACH SINCE I WAS A BABY! I THINK I CAN FREAKING HANDLE A LITTLE ROUGH SURF FOR CHISSAKES! LEAVE ME ALONE!

At any rate, she won the first round, but as soon as she dozed off, I went back to the water. Where she found me at the edge and accused me of trying to sneak away and scaring her to death, with me responding that I thought she heard me go and I wanted to swim, Goddamnit. Repeat argument 1, with less politesse.

Fast forward less than five minutes. I have stormed partially into the water. A giant wave comes and smacks me in the side of the knee while my foot is planted in the sand. I hear a distinct "click-CLICK!" as the joint bends unnaturally sideways and I go down. "That's probably not good," I muse to myself, then spend the next five to ten minutes flailing in the surf, letting wave after wave spin me around while the lifeguards repeatedly blow their whistles at me (gee, thanks), because I'm not sure I can get up.

I do get up. I can walk - wobbling and painfully, but I can. I have swelling and some trouble with stairs and walking long distances over the next few days, but with ice and rest it gets better. Until the first week of class, when, while innocently walking across the floor in the animal lab center, my knee completely buckles under me, leaving me on the floor in the doggy position, keening in pain in front of everyone.

I agree to go to the doctor at the urging of the folks in the vet tech program, who reasonably enough don't want me toppling over and flinging animals. I get an xray. The doctor thinks I'm fine and can go back to doing whatever. He says I could get an MRI, if I want. I decide to do it, just to be safe.

And I have a torn anterior cruciate ligament.

I will have to get surgery, eventually. Right now I'm trying to opt out of it in order to complete my final year at school. Lots of people make it around just fine for some time on torn ACLs, as long as they don't have very athletic things they have to do. The problem is, I have to get my doctor to sign off on a list of physical activities I have to do for class, such as stoop, lift 50 pounds, turn and balance. I also have a job where I'm carrying things, including live animals, and running around and on my feet for 10 hours at a time. I'm not sure if/how this will all work out.

So, if you've been wondering why I haven't been posting lately, there it is. I'm trying to work this out and keep up with a so-demanding-it-makes-my eyeballs-bulge-and-my-brain-weep-angels'-tears course schedule. Wish me luck... and don't go in the water!

Something Funny Happened On The Way To New Jersey...

We were supposed to start our get-away yesterday, but...

I got insomnia and tummy problems...

The toilet seat and flushing mechanism both broke...

BOTH turtle tank filters broke, one in a way that I was unable to fix it...

Our cat Maurice is supposed to spend the time we are away in medical boarding at the hospital where I work. Do you think he has magic voodoo powers keeping us home?

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

I've been working hard all year for little or no pay. I'm finding myself exhausted and depressed pretty often, even though I do love working with the animals. I just find myself pooped and stressed a lot.

So, imagine my delight when Mrs. Nator said we should take a vacation. As is our usual way, she gave me a budget, and I researched places we could go. Then she upped the budget, and I gave a rundown of more places we could afford. We narrowed down the list, and I started to get excited. Maybe we could be on a beach for a week - even one with sea turtles!

But then she went away for a week. I told her to do it. She'd been unable to focus at work with all the crazy stuff going on there, shortly after her grandmother's passing. I told her she needed a week off not thinking about work, just relaxing and bonding with her mother down in Atlanta. And so, after much prodding, she went. She slept. She swam in the pool. She read by the pond. She went shopping and saw a movie with her mother. It was just what she needed.

And then she came back and decided that we couldn't afford a vacation, with our finances and employment (and the economy) all in flux, nowadays. Maybe we should just both take a week down at her mom's to relax, she suggested.

Her mom's is nice. But it is not really a vacation. Her mom and I love each other, but it is still her house. We still would be guests of hers and her husband's, subject to whatever their schedule and car availability allow. And forget feeling comfortable walking around scantily dressed, much less having any real couple time, with both Mrs. N's mom and the rather conservative stepfather in the house. Yes, it may be considerably more relaxing than staying in Brooklyn. A vacation? Not so much.

So, I am disappointed. So disappointed, I feel a little sick. I knew realistically that we shouldn't spend the money, and was surprised when Mrs. N even suggested it. I know that most people I know aren't even fortunate to be going on a vacation this year, much less those who are students. Still, I spent several weeks researching and planning, and I got my hopes up. Now I am sad, and I'm not sure how to readjust my expectations, however realistic and sane it may be to do so.

Moreover, I don't want to get Mrs. N all stressed out again by pouting and whinging about something I know it would be unwise to spend our money on, anyway, especially since she is the breadwinner of the family, now. But I kind of can't help it. I don't even know how to face my next semester, where my schedule and classes are going to be considerably harder than this year, without getting some quality relaxation time.

Perhaps vacation is just a state of mind, and I should be able to have one right in my living room. But I'm not feeling it.

Why do I?

...stay up all night so I feel awful the next morning? ...take every mistake I make to heart and beat myself up for it? Judge simple, impersonal circumstances as mistakes I made or faults that I have? Worry so much about people disliking me, betraying me and hurting me? Shut out the fact that I am loved?

Why do we make life hard on ourselves? I've reviewed my issues and the childhood experiences I've had countless times. I've gotten better at taking care of myself, but it still does not come easily, naturally. Is it the personality I was born with, or how I was raised? Do you do the same things, too?

I know that most people do. Remembering that makes me feel less faulty and alone. Too bad my memory is so bad... especially when I don't get enough sleep!

Memememememememe....

Howdy, Natorettes! I've been spending my day recovering from what I hope will be my last 10-hr shift at the veterinary hospital for a while (not to mention my last viewing of a dangling eyeball for a while, which was a first for me, thank you). It's hard to go from laying around on one's ample ass most of the time to constantly moving for that amount of time, especially at a certain age and weight. The 8-hour shifts are alright, though. Or least they are now, while I'm not yet back in class. After that, whether I have to clone myself to get by remains to be seen.

Anyway, not having much time (or anything of interest to say), I'm finally getting to the 123 Book Meme Corn Dog tagged me for a little while ago. Here are the rules:

1. Grab the nearest book of 123 pages or more.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the first 5 sentences and write them down.
4. Then invite 5 friends to do the same.

And here goes:

"Everything comes and goes
Pleasure moves on too early
And trouble leaves too slow
Just when you're thinking
You've finally got it made..."

Kind of leaves ya hangin', doesn't it? And do those count as sentences? Anyway, that's from Joni Mitchell: The Complete Poems and Lyrics, which I suppose isn't so complete anymore, since it came out in 1997.

Actually, my quote in my senior year high school yearbook was from Joni Mitchell. It was from the song "Black Crow" on the album Hejira, and went thusly:

"In search of love and music
My whole life has been
Illumination
Corruption
And diving, diving, diving, diving
Diving down to pick up on every shiny thing
I'm like that black crow flying
In a blue sky"

No, I wasn't no damn hippie. Just pretentious and full of passion hormones.

Now I tag First Nations, oneofhismoms, Qenny, Chaucer's Bitch (whenever she gets back from Sith Efrica)and Warrior Two. I imagine they will have disparate and interesting reading at hand. Now, do the meme and send it on to five friends or little Jimmy will die!

The News from Here

1. I officially got into the clinical vet tech program!!! OK, it was unlikely that I wouldn't, but that didn't keep my hands from shaking when I opened the letter. Next stop: Modell's, where I can finally cash in an old gift certificate for my first set of scrubs! (And possibly a Giants cap, for obvious reasons.)

2. Skype kicks Yahoo Messenger's ass, yo. I mean, I've been trying to get this VOIP thing going for months so I could record my AC consultations for my clients, and I could not stop my calls from getting dropped. First the headset was for crap, then I was afraid it was my cable connection. Now I know I just should have been paying the extra money for Skype. It's worth it to actually be able to hear both ends of a conversation and not have malfunctions every few minutes. Now, if I can just get my recorder to register both speakers at a reasonable volume...

3. I still don't have a job. But! I had two AC clients today, a follow-up on a web job, and a referral from a classmate to an opening at the vet hospital where she works. Progress?

4. I am disturbed to inform you that now I cannot look at my cats without imagining their skeletons. Unfortunately, my first cat dissection will finally happen on Tuesday. I think I'll get through it okay; I just hate the thought of imagining slabs of dessicated meat every time I hug my critters.

5. Tomorrow night we see Kathy Griffin! Woo!

Further bulletins as events warrant, y'all.

Depressed

I still don't have a job.

I don't know what to do.

What I Learned In Lab Class

Behold the lamprey: not quite an eel, not quite a fish, not even quite a vertebrate. In other words, one weird-ass mothafukkin animal, my people. Damn.

What you see at its front is essentially an extended upper lip with nary a lower lip in sight. Lampreys are jawless. They sort of have heads, but you'd be hard pressed to find exactly where they end and the body begins (not to mention their brains are barely more than a cluster of cells). Their front ends are basically sensory organs with that big mouth at the end, which functions like a suction cup with teeth in it. They glom onto a hard-spined fish, stick to them and rasp away with those teeth, ingesting the fish's blood and tissues. Their tongues even have teeth on them!

I have stuck my finger into this maw - and lived!

Their skeletons are cartilaginous, like sharks, and they have both a nerve cord, which is similar to a spinal column, minus the vertebrae, and a notochord, an early version of the vertebral column which is much less rigid, and is now found in mainly lower forms and embryos (yes, you had one, too, early in your development). A bizarre throwback to ancient times, fossilized records show that they may not have changed in over 360 million years. Judging from the condition of our dessicated dissection specimen in lab class, it was probably among the first.

1. nerve cord, 2. notochord, 3. the eggs that become millions of little lampreys waiting to suck your braaaaiinnns!

My first dissection went fairly smoothly, considering the condition of the specimen and the fact that the scalpels in those dissection kits are about as sharp as prison-issue sporks. The lamprey was actually pretty small, so it's a stretch for eyeballs over thirty years old to see all the mushy parts, especially since doing so meant getting close to that smell. However, I did it, and I made a new friend in one of my new lab partners. It turns out she is a geeky gay white girl, too. In fact, she's so gay, geeky and white, she makes me look like Snoop Dogg. Let me put it this way: we ended our conversation by talking about the origin of slash in Star Trek fiction. For further research in lab: how did the idea of Kirk, Spock and McCoy all getting it on at once not kill slash in its infancy, if not actually kill homosexuality altogether? Discuss.

Do not try this at home.

After a long-ass lecture, delivered in an outrageous French accent by our professor (thank goodness I did the reading), I filled in an application at a local vet's office, and then went home to find my lab coat had arrived in the mail. Question: if you found out your animal health care professional had run around the house in his or her lab coat and underwear singing "(s)he's the one they call Doctor NOOOO PAAAANTS!", would you entrust him or her with your beloved pet? Does it help to know it was to the tune of an old Mötley Crüe song?

All in all, a very productive day. I think I'm going to enjoy this class. It makes me feel AAAAWL RIIIIGHT!

May Your Life Be Interesting

What do staring up at a giant whale shark, joining in with a sing-along in a nursing home, getting frisked in an airport after losing your i.d., getting scheduled for a root canal after experiencing blinding pain, purchasing a dissection kit, being called by a NY Times reporter for an interview and having sudden onset diarrhea on a mass transit train all have in common?

These are just a few of the things that have happened to me in the last few days.

I'm going to take a nap now.

P.S.: My cat has just decided for the first time in her life that she must watch me from atop the monitor. What is God trying to tell me?

P.P.S.: Please don't say it's "vote Romney."

P.P.P.S.: Go read Water for Elephants now. It will make you forget all of this kind of shit. Really.

Quandaries of a Privileged White Girl

So, the holidays are upon us. While I should be spending all my time looking for a job (okay, okay - I've started!), I am equally sentimental, hidebound and and premenstrual enough that I've decided to dedicate a few hours to making cookies.

Like many families, mine has a tradition of making Christmas cookies. My mother used to make dozens of dozens, filling large boxes full to send to people as presents (particularly the kids when we went off to school) and keeping plenty on hand to snack on for months. Sometimes there would still be some stored in the freezer by the time the next Christmas rolled around.

For a few years, I followed her example and would wind myself up into a tizzy of cookie making. However, eventually, she and I both realized that, while cookie making is fun in the short term, once you get past a couple hundred dollars' worth of ingredients and a half-day's worth of cooking, it gets overrated real fast. Neither one of wanted to have stress-related breakdowns over whether we'd get all the damn cookies done, or who burned what, or how to get them shipped in time, anymore. And so, every year we try valiantly to resist making too many cookies. Yet, every year, the urge to bake returns.

So, what to do? I want to make a few cookies - enough to make us feel cozy, indulgent and satisfied as we loll around over our break, despite not exchanging presents due to a tight budget. But which to make? When you have multiple kinds of cookies enshrined as family traditions, how can you choose just a few?

It's puzzling enough that Mrs. Nator and I are setting aside a particular time to talk about it. I happen to know that Ma Nator is making gingerbread and chocolate chip, and Sis and Bro-in-law Nator usually make pinwheels and ranger cookies, so those are out. For me, I think I'm going to set the rule that I am not going to make any cookies just because they're someone else's favourite. If the Mrs. & I can do without 'em, they're off the list. Also, we don't need multiples of particular flavours. One kind of chocolate item, like brownies, will do, as will one fruity item and one buttery item. And for heaven's sake, no kinds that have to sit around for several days, or be chilled overnight, or what-have-you, just to get done. Let's keep it simple, people. This is supposed to be fun and fulfilling, not a chore.

So, my short list this far? Brownies, macaroons and jewel brooches (a buttery cookie with jam in the middle). And possibly those white trash concoctions made of Saltines, butter, sugar and chocolate chips that my ex-roommate introduced to us. That's it.

Now watch me break these rules just because we "must" bring those pecan sandies and/or lemon cookies to Mrs. Nator's family in Atlanta, or everyone will cry and think we don't love them.

What are your holiday cookie musts?

Boo

Philly lost. Well, congratulations to all the choirs on COTC for working so hard and putting on a good show. I think everyone had a good time, anyway.

Now, let's go cheer ourselves up by playing addictive games to end world hunger (my highest score so far is 48 49) and making plans for Saturday.

Happy Eid al-Adha, everyone!

Can't Talk, Studying

Heading into finals. Will I ever be mildly interesting again? Talk amongst yourselves.

Tired Old Lady

How is it that I am pooped just from traveling to MD see my family this weekend? My dad's wife got sick, unfortunately, so he couldn't make it, and it was just me and my sister, bro-in-law, niece and nephew hanging out. Mostly I made the young'uns happy by watching their favourite videos with them, so it wasn't like we were out running marathons. So why do I feel like it should be Saturday on Monday?

Also, am I a terrible aunt because my nephew seems to have a meltdown every time I visit? I think our family is just genetically predisposed to wanting our usual, secure, homebody routines. Here I am exhausted just from being away for a couple days, and every time I visit my nephew seems to be thrown off track and act out, and then his father gets cranky, and then my sister gets quiet. (My niece does just fine, as long as she's not the one getting in trouble.) I had a really nice time with them most of the time - because, let's face it, my sibs are fun and my niece and nephew are adorable - but I think we all need to figure out a way to be less routine-bound. I guess it's not surprising that no Nators have been world explorers or astronauts, yet.

I wouldn't put it past niece Nator, in the future, though. She's a firecracker.

Anyway, I'm knackered, and I have school work to do, and today is my first job interview in, oh, say... nine years? EEEEEK! I need to figure out a way to wake up and put on a charming, positive exterior without slipping into some disturbing rictus of a false smile. Wish me luck!

...AAAAAAAAAAA...

Chemistry exam on Friday! Help!

Smooches,

- DN

P.S.: Anybody got a freelance or part-time job I can do? I gots lotsa skillz. You don't want us having to move in with one of our mothers on your conscience, do you?

P.P.S.: Anybody know a good malpractice lawyer? Hello?

P.P.S.: Yes, I am still boring. Check back sometime when I'm not in a panic.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

O, hai.

I has a paper, a quiz, three science labs and chemistree hmwrks due tomorrow.

Chemistree makes me dumbm and I no remember partz of cells.

I also has to interviewz at employmentz agencees.

kthnxbai.

Please Pardon The Interruption

What kind of idiot mutilates herself with a granny cart?

I have a giant hole in my leg!

I am so behind on everything in school I am never going to catch up!

The universe is trying to tell me that I made a mistake in going back to school!

I don't WANT to have to go back to doing computer work to make enough money!

I don't deserve anything better!

I am a failure! And unlovable!

It's NOOOT FAAAAAIRRRR!!!

WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Sigh.

Well. I wonder if that got it out of my system?

Well, Then.

So, remember how I said I was back from the hospital? Well, that lasted all of about three hours.

Yup, I took a nap and woke up with a high fever and my leg all inflamed again. I do not know why they discharged me, but I don't trust that hospital anymore, so I went to my regular doctor. He took a look at it and sent me immediately to another hospital, where he is friends with the director of the ER. Fortunately, this meant I was able to get in pretty quickly.

Long story short, I was admitted, tested and given many more rounds of antibiotics. On top of that, a surgeon was called in to look at my wound and, after making all of the disgusted faces that everyone seems to be compelled to make when they see it, he said I needed the stitches removed immediately, and to have it debrided. This meant that they knocked me out, opened that puppy back up, and cut out all the worst parts with a scalpel. Fun, fun, fun!

After that, it's been a few days of more antibiotics, wound cleaning, monitoring and Percoset as they saw how things went. It was not until yesterday, Friday, that I was finally allowed to go home, much to my relief (and Mrs. Nator's and Ma Nator's, who had come in to visit me). Now that I'm home, however, I still need a visiting nurse to come in every day for a while to clean the wound and change the packing (yes, packing - it's basically an open trench in my right shin about 7-8 inches long and 1-2 inches wide, and down almost to the bone, stuffed with loose gauze). Plus, I'll be on antibiotics and the occasional narcotic, as well as restricted movement, so I'll be out of classes for at least another week.

It's all so strange. Who knew a shopping cart could be so deadly? The good news is, I can walk - just not for long distances - and it doesn't hurt terribly most of the time. The bad news is, THERE'S A GIANT FREAKIN' HOLE IN MY LEG!

Not only that, but from what I learned from the surgeon, the first hospital did pretty much exactly the wrong thing with my wound (which - did I mention? - he compared to a "serious shrapnel wound"). Stitching it up tight and sending me home without making sure I was on antibiotics - then, later, discharging me after one night and keep thing the stitches in - made everything work. Now we have to talk to a lawyer friend and consider taking some action, which is not something I'd ever expect myself to do, but CARNFARN IT, I'M MAD!!!

Ahem. Anyway, I'm back and all that, for now. Perhaps I'll post next time on Percoset, just to make it entertaining.

P.S.: Shopping cart = my new KHAAAAANNNN!!!

Well, It Hurts Now

Just popping in to say that I'm back from the hospital. I was admitted overnight for a couple courses of intravenous antibiotics because my wound was infected and it turned out I had a fever of 103.6. Stupid broken home thermometer.

Anyway, being in the hospital was just a barrel of laughs, but at least my fever broke, and I got to get out today. Nobody wanted to be clear on how to treat my wound, and it was like pulling teeth to get an excuse note for school (again) even though they told me I'd have to take a week off. I'm off to see my regular doctor, who I trust more, this evening, in hopes he can make things clearer.

Later, Natorettes...

 

P.S.: While sweating out my fever last night, I had a dream that I met a couple including Mia Kirshner from The L Word and some random annoying guy, and I ended up having an affair with the random annoying guy. The moral of the story: 1.) Any dream about Mia Kirshner is a nightmare, and 2.) As Jenny on The L Word, Mia Kirshner is so annoying that she could turn me straight.

The End.

Ruh-Roh

I'm back from the wilds of New Jersey, and I thought I might get a chance to relax for a while today. Unfortunately, I feel like crap and we think my leg might be infected.

Sigh.

Back to the emergency room...

 

P.S.: No funnel cake, but I lots of photos and a pumpkin donut. I'll have more photos of my mom's art up on her blog soon, too.

What The...?

Y'all, the last week has been doggone crazy. As if the unfortunate Cart of Dooooommmm accident wasn't enough, being out for that one day put me all behind. I think I did alright on the Intro to Vet Tech quiz, despite falling asleep while studying that afternoon and thus being late for class (no blue workbooks, though; I guess my dreams aren't that psychic). But then I had to stay up late that night to finish some materials I promised to design for my mom's art show, and thus ran late this morning, stumbling into Chemistry class to find out we were having a surprise quiz - O, Joy! I don't think I did very well on it. It wasn't that I didn't know the material, per se, so much as I was so exhausted and frazzled that I couldn't tell where the donkey should go, how significant those places between him and the f*ck-chain were, and whether his name was Kelvin or Celsius.

THEN I get my Chemistry homework back, and Yay! because I got all the answers right, but Boo! because the prof took 30% off my score for "lateness." So, I had to follow him around for ten minutes until I could get him to pay attention to the fact that I had contacted him the morning after my night in the freakin' emergency room, so it had been an excused absence. He said he would change it back to 100%, but I have a feeling I'm just another face in the crowd to him, so I'd better watch him like a hawk.

NEXT it turned out that there was a message on my voicemail that I could make my missed lab class up, after all, but ONLY IF I RUN RIGHT NOW TO THE OTHER BUILDING AND TAKE IT CHOP CHOP RIGHT NOW DON'T STOP JUST GO! So, I did. And it was... fine. Like being in junior high once again, really, including having the partner who seemed a little slow and thus I ended up doing everything while she watched and copied my notes, except for the one thing she did do which messed up the experiment and would have ruined our results, had I not gone back and doctored the numbers.

Are we having fun yet?

Then, it was RACE back to Brooklyn to meet with my pet sitting partner, who had been circling in her car for over a half hour with two little dogs, waiting for me to meet them. They are cute, but I am not convinced they won't gnaw my face off when I go to walk them without her. I'm planning to Shake 'n Bake myself in a leaf bag full of crushed dog treats, hoping that they will then decide I'm worth sparing.

Now I'm late to get to my mom's house before the massage she's giving tonight, so I have to pack and await a call from her. Then it's schlepping to New Jerseyfor one day full of hanging her show, printing her materials, doing some store returns and hanging out at some harvest festival for a few hours while she gives chair massages. If there is a God, there will be fair weather and funnel cake.

Finally, on Sunday and Monday, I have to catch up on all the studying I'm behind on, try to do some of the neglected housework, and let Mrs. Nator know I'm still around, as well as resuming pet-sitting duties.

One day, and everything's backed up. And I'm only taking three classes right now (well, more like 2 and 1/2, since the student seminar is a gut course of sorts), y'all. God forbid I get the flu, or something, in Spring, when I'll presumably be taking at least 4 or 5.

Oh, and now my wound and shot site are beginning to hurt pretty regularly, thanks for asking.

And my Mega Millions ticket was not a winner.

Sigh.

 

...funnel cake?