Back in the Sadle Again

I'm back baby!! That's right, I entered the workforce. I am now a crew leader assistant for the 2010 census. I guess it's really temporary-it ends on June 7th, which makes me really happy because I had a lot of fun planned for this summer; at least one day trip to Seattle, weekend trip to San Fransisco, week-long cancer survivor's retreat (kayaking in White Salmon, WA), and 2 family reunions to name a few. I just needed to refill the coffers, and since Washington pays lots for menial labor, I should be better prepared financially for summer fun.
I have used this blog in the past as a sounding board for the awesomeness of rock and the putrescence of country "music." Aerosmith showcases another example of how rock artists can take and explore a typically country theme and lyrical score and turn it into something noteworthy and awesome instead of melodramatic cat droppings. Kenny Chesney and his fake man boobs should just stop spreading horribleness (I couldn't resist the jab). After watching this blog's video, it's clear where Liv got her Angelina Joliesque lips; it's great to see families in the entertainment business, the Baldwin's can only take familial ties so far.

Welcome to the Machine

On April 1st I was "admitted to the machine" and became enrolled in medicare parts A, B, and D. For the under 65 crowd that's hospital insurance, medical insurance, and drug insurance. I tell you when I chose my title for a blog it's scary how many aspects of my life are evidenced by the lyrics, melody, and album in general.

"You've been in the pipeline, filling in time" is reminiscent of minor league baseball players putting in their time in the pipeline to the bigs-and the MLB just opened with a Red Sox victory! I am so happy the Sox beat the Yankees on Opening Day! Its definitely a sign of good things to come and Stephen King reminded us (in Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption) that Hope Springs Eternal every spring.

"And you didn't like school..." I really liked college but I like grad school a lot less, it is just really hard for me to concentrate on it and get excited/motivated about studying and doing assignments. Especially my Environmental Health class (Green Party Propaganda 101).

I was also recently invited to become a cog in The Machine that is the U.S. census. I got offered a full time office job but had to decline because I didn't think I could handle it and school.
So if anyone has scholarly insights on malaria control without DDT let me know. I should be doing my own research right now, but as I've graced you with a post, it's the least you can do.

The New American Way

As I promised I'm including a few pics from St. Patrick's Day festivities. Some pretty lucky people caught the leprechaun this year, but strangely enough my title refers both to my playlist at the party and the current socio-political climate. I've heard a lot of conservative anger/angst against Obamacare and I've also been directed by my "fair and balanced" University to contact my congressional representative to encourage them to support the new legislation. As the plan will increase health care coverage, especially among low-income high-risk groups, it is public health's short term dream in some major ways. I'm not going to pontificate more on the subject as the scant literature I've read on the legislation is biased and I don't know enough about it to competently comment. But I will say that Dropkick Murphys said it perfectly in my title track, "I know I'll win my battles, though I fear we'll loose the war to the new American way." Socialization is the new American way. You can battle against it if you wish, but I fear you'll lose the war.

Run Like Hell

Saturday, March 20th was the 1st annual Ribbon River Run. It was your choice of a 5K or a 1 mile to benefit the patient and family programs at the Tri-Cities Cancer Center. So my team and I ran the 1 mile with the gray ribbon for brain cancer.

For the conservative base (meaning family) who are offended at my title, you should know that the PG-13 word is not in the lyrics of this awesomeness that is Pink Floyd; it's just part of the title.
Teaser!!! Pics et al. from my St. Patrick's Day party are coming!

Jiggle, Jiggle, Jiggle!

To young people today Bill Cosby is best remembered as the weird, old, suspect, host of the somewhat tired "Kid's Say the Darndest Things." To us twenty-somethings he remains the quirky jello and pudding pops spokesperson; he introduced me to jello jigglers. But I prefer to remember him for the wisdom he imparted in his book "I am what I ate..And I'm Frightened!!!: And Other Digressions from the Doctor of Comedy." In this treasure trove of knowledge Dr. Cosby talked about the male phenomenon of delaying medical care. He posed that "I didn't have it until I went to the doctor," when discussing his high blood pressure and high cholesterol. Some health professionals (especially women) laugh at this aphorism and discard it as misplaced machismo, I however stand before you today to unabashedly proclaim the gospel of Coz and warn all men to stay away from the medical profession.

After 10 months of blessed separation from doctors I needed a doc's permission to go to a cancer survivor's retreat this summer-kayaking in White Salmon, WA. He of course ordered an MRI and the awfulness began...Hours of my life were sucked away waiting for him, various imaging professionals, my neurologist and others only to find that I have definitely felt worse in body and spirit after getting info on exactly how big my tumor is and having my neurologist go into a frenzy and my oncologist wanting to have another surgery and more treatment in Seattle. And I honestly feel a little worse physically as if the little bast*#d has been jiggling around like some keys on the chain of my brain. I've just felt the tumor effects more than I have in several months. For those who want to know it's a little smaller than a squished out pool ball-6cm at it's longest. And I started Avastin treatments again today. It's an IV treatment to constrict blood vessels leading to the tumor site (which incidentally is in my brain, and I know that constricting blood flow to the brain is usually not a good thing). But anyway just stay away from doctors-they only make everything worse. Except for you guys with little kids-take them to the doc, they don't have the immune system to play the avoidance game.

So despite this new realization (or because of it) I'm still planning on "running" in the 2010 Ribbon River Run. Feel free to join my team or donate to my team at tccancer.org. St. Patrick's Day is still on the docket as well-and you all had better celebrate and pass out in your driveway or your kitchen or something. March certainly promises a lot of madness and I am looking forward to it.

PS Just a reminder to pay your taxes so I can get cheap medical insurance next month when I go on Medicare.

Short People

I feel kind of like Alfalfa did when he said, "then the clouds opened up and God said, 'I hate you Alfalfa.'" I just got the word that the ides of March came early this year and stabbed me in the back. St. Patrick's Day is officially cancelled. There will be no merriment, no song, no jig, and no leprechaun. The Avalanche has reneged and will not allow me use of their restaurant-and I have no other viable options. Just as I was feeling better and thinking maybe I could really get on with my life and host a party like gold ol' pre-cancer times-I get hammered back into reality. It's not in the cards for you fella. On the brink of redemption, damnation rears its ugly head yet again. So now what do I do? I guess I put all my eggs in one basket this time and took a shot-but it caromed off the edge. Pour a little on the sidewalk for a fallen friend would you? I guess Paul Newman was right.
I suppose I sound a bit melodramatic, but I've always been a little theatrical, plus I spent over 4 hours at the docs today-mostly waiting around. But as you can see I'm trying to deal with continued disappointment in a healthy way, with humor (see Randy Newman clip above), and with candid online conversations about my feelings.

Smokin' in the Boy's Room

Everyone remembers this almost sacred ritual of middle school with fondness. Ah, to be 14 again (ok, so nobody has ever wanted that, except for maybe Romeo, so he could not kill himself while his star-crossed lover yet lived). Anyway, I went to the public library yesterday, was browsing the bookshelf, and happened on this little ditty, "The Art of Smoking." My thoughts immediately turned to Brownsville Station and their reminiscent ballad to illegal behavior. So what if I was in the cooking section? My masculinity is still intact because 1. chicks like guys who will cook for them, 2. smoking is right alongside barbecuing as masculine methods of cooking, and 3. the first thing I thought of was really tobacco use, even though I was in the cooking section. I wish I had a candy cigarette to take a picture with-it's cold enough outside that my breath would look like smoke to a camera. Just imagine it in your mind. As an afterthought I realize that Motley Crue's Smokin' in the Boy's Room rooks harder, but on that fateful afternoon I thought of Brownsville Station first.