Pictures Worth A Thousand Words

You know that friend that always knows how to make you feel special by celebrating your successes, be they personal or professional? Maybe even that YAY! YOU PASSED YOUR MAYO BLOOD TEST! occasion. And she always knows the exact right thing to say to make it better, when it is bad. Or knows the exact right thing to say to make it even better, when it is good. She can always make you laugh and laugh and laugh, sometimes until it is actually painful, even if you are talking about something as objectively unfunny as say? ... paraneoplastic neurological disorders ... or carrot cake. That too.

Everyone should be fortunate enough to have a friend like that.

Cheers, AR. Thank you for always being all up in my pocket. And for being you.

PS I hope you hid the receipt.

Full Circle

Today is the first day in a number of days that I can SEE (!) And after sleeping for the past thirty-six out of forty hours, I do not feel as if I am circling the drain, for the very first time in weeks. I'll take it.

I wish I had some *great* news ... but I am still not sure WTF is up. The working concept right now is that there *may* be a problem with my brain ... causing all sorts of other stuff . I have a Monday morning date with the brain MRI device and some contrast dye (was due for next one in two months, but they are bumping me up now).

After doing increasingly scary things to me over the course of two weeks ("Has anyone stuck pins in her eyeballs yet? NO! Well then - let's TRY it! And get the BIG pins. We want her to FEEL it!"), the neurosurgeons are back at this novel theory:

Huh. So she cannot see, she cannot think, and she feels awful? Here's a crazy idea to consider: What if it is that TUMOR in her BRAIN causing BRAIN problems that are making the rest of her body weird? Could be tumor growing? Could be bleeding? Could be increased pressure from tumor? Could be inflammation? But - cognitive problems + transient visual disturbance + crushing exhaustion + known brain tumor = maybe we are on to something! Maybe it is her BRAIN.

Dude. Really. We are here again?

But that is Monday *(I have strict instructions to return if vision gets worse before then - cannot recall the last time I got a full weekend to just enjoy without that caveat. My marching orders on Friday afternoons are, "Rest, relax, and enjoy your weekend, but if you have ANY strange medical symptoms, call 911 and immediately get an ambulance back to Hopkins. OK - have fun! See ya Monday!")

Am doing my very best to enjoy. I am enjoying the sunshine - and my laptop! I can read! - in front of an open window, watching our pond ( I think I see a baby goose!) ... and soaking in Spring. From inside, of course; not really an outdoor gal, pollen makes me sneeze.

In one hour, I plan to have 1/20th of a beer while watching the NCAA game to celebrate with people that do not have on white coats and/or plans to to stick me with needles (or worse) in an attempt to "harvest" various types of "fluids." Unless the party gets really wild, in which case maybe I spoke too soon. We've all heard that urban legend about waking up minus one kidney in a scuzzy hotel bathtub full of ice.

I apologize - many times over - if I have not replied to any personal email messages or phone messages yet. I hope to get there soon.

For Be. Fri.

Just for you. I feel like you needed some cheering up. Also, of all the people I know, I feel like you would appreciate the following more than anyone else.

For others, I have gotten word back from U. Maryland & Pittsburgh on the state of the union after the last scans and visual impairment. I have the neurosurgical consult appointment tomorrow at Hopkins and then I will do my best to synthesize and provide an executive summary of the current situation once I can cross-reference notes and take a deep breath.

But, today, I am looking for some distraction. And, I found it! This falls into the category of There Are People That Are Worse Off Than Us. Or maybe, Sometimes There Are Things You Cannot Do Anything About No Matter How Hard You Try.

Those that know me well are fully aware of my love/hate shark relationship. I will watch all the Discovery Channel shark shows with my feet safely hidden under a blanket and never dangling over the couch (just in case). And then DVR to watch later, in case I have not sufficiently scared myself on first viewing.

One common thread among the shark shows is how they spend 58 minutes of each show detailing the most horrific shark attacks in the history of horrific shark attacks and then 30 seconds at the end reassuring viewers that the shark did not WANT to bite that poor, dead person in half and then eat them, but it just happened because the shark got confused. Kind of the feelings I have when I discover I have "accidentally" eaten all the cupcakes in our pantry. Again. I thought they were seals! Clearly.

So I read this article with interest. Here is the full link so I cannot be sued for plagiarizing:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/jan/13/australia-shark-attacks

For all those busy people that want bullet points, here you go. These are verbatim tips about what to do if attacked by a shark:

* If you are in the water, remain calm. You cannot outrun a shark and sharks can sense fear.

* Keep your eye on the shark at all times. Sharks may retreat temporarily and then try to sneak up on you.

* If you can't get out of the water right away, try to reduce the shark's possible angles of attack.

* Fight. Playing dead doesn't work. A hard blow to the shark's gills, eyes, or, as a last resort, to the tip of its nose will cause the shark to retreat. If a shark continues to attack, or if it has you in its mouth, hit these areas repeatedly with hard jabs, and claw at the eyes and gills.

* If you are near shore, swim quickly, but smoothly. Thrashing will attract the shark's attention.

* Sharks have difficulty biting things that are vertical (their nose gets in the way) so avoid leaving your hands and feet loose or going horizontal to swim away from the shark.

* Sharks can't breathe out of water, so, if possible, hold the bitten part of your body out of the water, and get their gills into the air and they will let go of you.

* Sharks tend to thrash prey around to tear chunks out of it, so you should latch on to the shark.

* Repress the urge to scream. Screaming will not deter the shark much and may provoke it further.

To summarize: just lift the bajillion pound shark out of the water using any body part that has not yet been bitten off, while avoiding "tearing" teeth and remaining silent and still - DO NOT SCREAM! - and then swim quickly, but evenly, to shore, as you curl into a tight ball and hold yourself vertical, keeping an eye on the shark, while hoisting any partially severed nubs out of the water and continuing to swim (silently, vertically, and quickly), looking over your shoulder. Got it?

Um ... advantage: shark. Not to discredit the author, but I feel like the practical applications of this piece of journalism are somewhat limited. I think the easier solution is to move to Iowa and take up running. You are welcome for sharing. And, see, don't you feel better now?! It could be worse.

Love, St. Ends.

Surprise! We're at Outback!

Hey 100% Crazy!

I hope you are, right this very second, partying like it is your birthday! Because it IS. But you knew that.

When we first met, you were not sure you liked me that much. Alright, you did NOT like me at all (you admitted this to me later, well after the friendship had been cemented). Because at the time you were a Refined Serious Law Student working at a Major DC Law Firm so someday soon you could have a Big Legal Career doing Important Legal Work and Making Lots of Money. And I was all long blonde hair and lip gloss, ink still setting on my college diploma. I could (and did) spend an inordinate amount of time discussing matters like whether the toenail polish I was wearing was "too red." Sometimes, in my youth, I could be ... sort of ... vapid. Or something. And we had to share an office. I would borrow the stapler and Post-its from your desk and forget to put them back.

Our friendship did not happen overnight. I think, slowly, you got used to the idea of me in your space, not unlike how gradually a toddler realizes that her new little brother or sister is not going back to the hospital, so they may as well make the best of it and stop hitting them over the head with their blocks (at least while mom is looking). Over time, we bonded over our shared horror of certain firm partners' fashion sense (I mean - an electric blue skirt-suit?!) and our shared hatred of interoffice birthday cakes and certain words (you are one of the only people who not only appreciates, but understands, my visceral reaction to words such as "pot roast" or "moist").

You introduced me to the wonders of the Coach store and sauce spoons at Citronelle and lobster lumps (hold those flippery things!). I knew our relationship was serious when you risked your enviable career to commit a minor trespass on my behalf. You know what I mean. (HEY! I wonder if Cabbage is on Facebook yet? I'll be right back ...)

And then, one day, just like that, the two of realized we had become actual real-live friends. We made excuses to stay late at the office so that we could order dinner together in the conference room with RG and talk about things like how my borderline roommate would steal ketchup packets from 7-11. And we would laugh and laugh and laugh and talk and talk and talk. Sometimes I would talk and talk and talk and you would listen. Then we would IM, because one of us (usually me) still had things to say.

On a tangent here: You are the BEST gift-giver I have ever met. On the surface, it seems like giving good gifts might be a shallow remark about you as a person. But, it is not. It is a reflection of how you care so very much about the important people in your life that it brings you joy to give them That Perfect Thing -- that thing they would LOVE, but may not get for themselves. Just this past Easter, you sent me the most gorgeous bouquet of rainbow orchids. Like a party in a vase! When I asked why - for Easter? - you said that I deserved to have something pretty and nice for myself. Just because you wanted to.

I would be remiss if I did not tell you that I think you are one of the most elegant, generous, and supportive people I have had the pleasure to know. I treasure our long friendship so very much. I value and respect all of your advice and your selflessness with your time and spirit.

And ... you totally crack my ass up. I hope we are still laughing together when we are old, old, old ladies (even older than right now).

Hugs (and shit) - J

Birthday Wishes for GR - Old(er) But Good(er)

Happy Birthday to one of my most favorite people on the planet. I know this is two days after the fact, but you did not expect me to have it posted on time did you? No, you didn't. We have been friends for so long that you know the drill by now. But I did not want to miss the chance to tell you all the reasons (OK, some of the reasons) I love you so much and am wishing this year is your best year yet.

1. My brother still talks about when you would come over to my parents' house and do back flips in our front yard. I am not sure if it was the fact that you could DO a back flip, which is a cool accomplishment in and of itself, or that you were wearing your cheerleading skirt while doing so and he could see your underpants -- I'd bet 99/100th underpants, 1/100th admiration for the physiology of acrobatics. Whatever the case, you made quite an impression on his malleable little mind.

2. When my high school boyfriend and I broke up, you never failed to declare an immediate Code Red state of emergency. You'd enact drastic measures: skipping class and driving me to 7-11 (because you were the one with the car) to stockpile emergency rations of chocolate and fried salty goodness. Even though it was the 18th time high school boyfriend and I had broken up. That week.

3. How you refused to buy light bulbs for our ghetto-fabulous grad school townhouse, claiming that you were never there, therefore, "you did not use all the light bulbs up." Good argument - perhaps you should have been the lawyer? At the time, as I stumbled around in the dark, stubbing body parts on the few furnishings we owned, I wanted to ring your neck. I was, of course, too stubborn to break down and go to Home Depot my damn self. Now - eight years later - LightBulbGate makes me smile.

4. How you are the most warm, patient mom in the entire world. I envy that. Your girls are lucky to have you. I'll be sure to remind them of that when they are teenagers.

5. How when Ethan fell and gashed his head on the fish tank at school, you stayed with me on the phone on the way to the hospital and then offered to come over and staple his head so we did not have to wait at the ER. Only a very good friend would offer to staple your kid's head.

6. How you do not drink, but put up with me when I do (and then offer me a ride home).

7. How when we lived at the beach (when you DID drink), you would come home (tipsy) from waitressing at 2 a.m. and strap on your Rollerblades. Most people get a little buzz and come home and eat Doritos; you'd come home and rollerblade 40 miles to Delaware.

8. How even though we have lunch every week and I am fifteen minutes late without fail, you never get mad. You simply bring a magazine with you and then fill me in on all the celebrity gossip I need to know about.

9. How you are the smartest person I have ever met (K - you are a super-close second - no offense, but you know it is true - G is a genius in the true sense of the word). How you studied for your MCATs on the beach - in a bikini - while taking breaks to apply suntan oil and admire the lifeguards, then rocked the exam. How in medical school, we would study at the Renaissance instead of the library (yum - nibbly things!) and then you would rock the exam. How even though you are crazy-scary smart, you are still one of the most fun people I know and can make me laugh until coffee sprays out of my nose. Smart/Fun is a rare and incredible combination.

10. How you are so freakin' laid back: even when it comes to the "big stuff." I have a vivid recollection of studying in our ghetto fabulous house. You were upstairs, I was downstairs at the kitchen table. I heard gunshots outside - not an unusual occurrence in our neck of the city woods - but these were CLOSE. I yelled upstairs, "I heard gunshots - should I call 911?" To which you replied, "I am sure the police are busy - were the shots INSIDE the house, or just outside?"

Love you bunches - Happy Birthday to my favorite ditz twin.

Not Getting Really Sick, And Shit

One of my awesome friends (who shall remain unnamed) sent the below email and I am posting it because it makes me happy to read. It is nice, both, to be someone's "favorite ... in the world" and to hear it:

I guess on a related note, I don't feel like you and I have to say these things to each other, but I'd rather look like a dork saying it than risk you not knowing for sure. I care about you, you are one my favorite people in the world, and I feel like there's a rock in my stomach thinking that you might ever not be around to talk to. So, like, don't get really sick, and shit.

PS Her dad passed away from a brain tumor, so I think she knows almost better than anyone what I going through right now.