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Chag sameach
Apr. 8th, 2020 08:46 pm... to all of my Jewish friends, acquaintances, and colleagues.
Week ten (Holy September, Batman!)
Sep. 2nd, 2018 07:46 pmA short but intense week for me at work -- interviews with a handful of candidates in the Mountain View office both Tuesday and Wednesday, followed by a quiet day on Thursday and then taking Friday off, to make a four-day week and a four-day weekend, counting the Labo(u)r Day holiday tomorrow.
Staying in the 9k range for daily step count -- might try to push it back to 10k/day next week, now that the cough has passed (again.) Total for the week was 68.6k steps, for 53.53km. After averaging a bunch of weeks, it appears that my normal walking pace is 105-110 steps of 65-70cm stride per minute, or 72 m/min ~ 4.3 km/h. As always, the fog has been lovely, the weather near home very co-operative for walking.
Blood sugar was mostly pretty good -- I'm getting in a habit of pushing the pre-dinner walk a little hard, to try to get the evening reading below 100. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Next week I go back into the lab to get blood work and my first A1c since the day after I got out of the hospital. Wish me good numbers. Also wish me patience with my old PCP, who has recently started calling me again.
Actually got in a little beach time this week, having dinner with a friend and seeing one of those gorgeous Pacifica sunsets. I'd been staying close to home with the cough, and it feels good to step outside of that a little.
I've spent most of the long weekend so far wallowing in pop music bombast -- My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco. I suppose we'll see if that's a good sign or not -- I blame my favourite bunny-cuddling gothygirl.
Onward, into September, ready or not.
Staying in the 9k range for daily step count -- might try to push it back to 10k/day next week, now that the cough has passed (again.) Total for the week was 68.6k steps, for 53.53km. After averaging a bunch of weeks, it appears that my normal walking pace is 105-110 steps of 65-70cm stride per minute, or 72 m/min ~ 4.3 km/h. As always, the fog has been lovely, the weather near home very co-operative for walking.
Blood sugar was mostly pretty good -- I'm getting in a habit of pushing the pre-dinner walk a little hard, to try to get the evening reading below 100. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Next week I go back into the lab to get blood work and my first A1c since the day after I got out of the hospital. Wish me good numbers. Also wish me patience with my old PCP, who has recently started calling me again.
Actually got in a little beach time this week, having dinner with a friend and seeing one of those gorgeous Pacifica sunsets. I'd been staying close to home with the cough, and it feels good to step outside of that a little.
I've spent most of the long weekend so far wallowing in pop music bombast -- My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco. I suppose we'll see if that's a good sign or not -- I blame my favourite bunny-cuddling gothygirl.
Onward, into September, ready or not.
Yeah, about that "living to see 50" thing
Jun. 24th, 2018 07:12 pmI drove myself to Kaiser's emergency room at 2:30am on Saturday because I was having some chest pain that wouldn't let me sleep. I expected that they would prescribe me a heavy-duty antacid and send me away. However, once you utter the words "chest pain" in an emergency room, things start to happen very fast.
Once they did two EKGs, they arranged to have me packed into an ambulance and transferred to St Rose Hospital in Hayward, "because they have the best cardiologists around." That was when I clued in that this might be serious. Attempting jocularity, I asked the emergency intern, "Is this for the heart attack I had earlier without noticing it, or is it for the one that's in my very near future?" His reply was sobering: "It's for the heart attack that you're having right now."
Once we arrived at St Rose, they swept me straight to the cath lab, where a very animated and thorough cardiologist did what is called a "left-side catheterization" (or "left cath" for short.) I was awake for the whole procedure -- local anaesthetic took care of the entry point at my groin, and there wasn't any other pain. Feeling people fiddling around in my major blood vessels was very, very odd, but I wouldn't call it pain.
The cardiologist informed me in brisk terms that both my left-side cardiac arteries were between 98 and 99% blocked, and that they were going to balloon and stent them. "Fortunately, your right side looks like a superhighway -- clear all the way." So I spent 45 minutes or so getting my cardiac pathways roto-rooted, and spent about 24 hours subsequently at St Rose, 10 of them in ICU and 14 or so in a regular room.
And then, amazingly enough, they told me I could go. I have a spectacular bruise on my right groin, two new stents, and who knows how much billing hassle to go through, but the monster that got my grandfather at age 58 in 1970 did not get me at age 51.
So now I am home and safe, and I will be on blood thinners for the rest of my life, just like my grandmother was before me -- her heart attack was in 1988, when she was 75. She lived to be 90. And when she could finally feel the spring winding down, she sat down and wrote a note to her cardiac surgeon, thanking him for 14 wonderful years.
So for at least the next little while, I will be doing my very best to cherish every month, every week, every day that the cheerful cardiologist at St Rose has gifted me. Thanks, doc. You're brilliant.
Once they did two EKGs, they arranged to have me packed into an ambulance and transferred to St Rose Hospital in Hayward, "because they have the best cardiologists around." That was when I clued in that this might be serious. Attempting jocularity, I asked the emergency intern, "Is this for the heart attack I had earlier without noticing it, or is it for the one that's in my very near future?" His reply was sobering: "It's for the heart attack that you're having right now."
Once we arrived at St Rose, they swept me straight to the cath lab, where a very animated and thorough cardiologist did what is called a "left-side catheterization" (or "left cath" for short.) I was awake for the whole procedure -- local anaesthetic took care of the entry point at my groin, and there wasn't any other pain. Feeling people fiddling around in my major blood vessels was very, very odd, but I wouldn't call it pain.
The cardiologist informed me in brisk terms that both my left-side cardiac arteries were between 98 and 99% blocked, and that they were going to balloon and stent them. "Fortunately, your right side looks like a superhighway -- clear all the way." So I spent 45 minutes or so getting my cardiac pathways roto-rooted, and spent about 24 hours subsequently at St Rose, 10 of them in ICU and 14 or so in a regular room.
And then, amazingly enough, they told me I could go. I have a spectacular bruise on my right groin, two new stents, and who knows how much billing hassle to go through, but the monster that got my grandfather at age 58 in 1970 did not get me at age 51.
So now I am home and safe, and I will be on blood thinners for the rest of my life, just like my grandmother was before me -- her heart attack was in 1988, when she was 75. She lived to be 90. And when she could finally feel the spring winding down, she sat down and wrote a note to her cardiac surgeon, thanking him for 14 wonderful years.
So for at least the next little while, I will be doing my very best to cherish every month, every week, every day that the cheerful cardiologist at St Rose has gifted me. Thanks, doc. You're brilliant.
Gratitude and thanksgiving
Nov. 23rd, 2017 09:19 pmI am thankful to have lived to 50. I really didn't think I'd get here.
I am thankful for my friends, both near and far, both past and present.
I am thankful for the opportunity to travel, to visit new places and fall in love with them.
I am thankful for a job doing work I believe in with people I enjoy, for a reasonable wage.
I am thankful for the people willing to speak truth to power, to call out injustice, discrimination, and the insolence of office, in a world where it is increasingly dangerous to do these things.
And if you are reading this, I am thankful for you. More than likely, you know why.
Be good to one another, and hold on.
I am thankful for my friends, both near and far, both past and present.
I am thankful for the opportunity to travel, to visit new places and fall in love with them.
I am thankful for a job doing work I believe in with people I enjoy, for a reasonable wage.
I am thankful for the people willing to speak truth to power, to call out injustice, discrimination, and the insolence of office, in a world where it is increasingly dangerous to do these things.
And if you are reading this, I am thankful for you. More than likely, you know why.
Be good to one another, and hold on.
My weekend
Mar. 1st, 2009 04:38 pmI have shaken hands with Ursula K. Le Guin. And had a few very brief, very meaningful (to me, at least) conversations with her. She was gracious, warm, very human.
Yeah, Potlatch was worth the price of admission.
I'm still floating; you can probably tell. All I can think of is "At least I got to tell her thank you, and know she heard me."
Thank you again to Molly and Mara for urging me to go. This was a lovely experience.
Yeah, Potlatch was worth the price of admission.
I'm still floating; you can probably tell. All I can think of is "At least I got to tell her thank you, and know she heard me."
Thank you again to Molly and Mara for urging me to go. This was a lovely experience.
Five from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
charlotte_buff
Jul. 27th, 2007 12:03 pmcharlotte_buff asked:1. What are three of your favorite things about where you live?
2. What's worse - 2 full weeks of constant crowds and people talking to you nonstop or 2 full years of absolutely no interaction with another person.
3. I can't believe that I don't know this about you but... do you have any pets? If so, describe them to me. If not, why?
4. Do you remember the first book that you bought with your own money? What was the title and why did you choose it?
5. When was the last time that you laughed so hard your sides hurt?
( And I answered ... )
(no subject)
Jul. 25th, 2007 10:08 pmTHE RULES:
1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like your favorite lyric to your current favorite song. Or your favorite kind of sandwich. Something random. Whatever you like.
2. I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.
3. Update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.
arliss asked me:
1. You suddenly acquire an income more than adequate to meet your needs. Liberated from the need to earn a living, what profession or avocation do you pursue?
2. You spent part of your childhood in the south. What makes you nostalgic? What are you glad you escaped?
3. You're having a celebration. How large a party is it, and who do you invite? Do you include people from work and the neighborhood and the grocer from the corner store? I don't need a guest list, just an idea of how large or small your celebration would be.
4. If you could change one national government policy, what would it be?
5. One week with unlimited funds; what do you do?
And I answered:
1. The answer to this one terrifies me with how easily it slipped into my mind: I start a church. I turn no one away: no denominational requirements. I invite pastors, priests, rabbis, imams, bodhisattvas, anyone who will help. And we preach love, forgiveness, love, resistance to evil, love, mindfulness, love, tolerance, and a bit more love. Until they came to take us away.
2. What makes me nostalgic: The sounds of thunder in the summertime (rare out here, but much more common there). The sound of a young black waitress asking an older white man in a wheelchair, "What can I get you, baby?" (I do not know whether they were previously acquainted -- I've been away too long to differentiate the 'baby' one uses with strangers from the one used with friends and family.) Talking to you; hearing the softness of those North Carolina vowels, coupled with the natural warmth of your voice. The sight of fireflies, so common in the east Tennessee summers, unheard of in my portion of California.
What I'm glad I escaped: The almost-ritualised homophobia, and the air of casual menace that Southern males project towards people they see as interlopers. The deep mistrust of intellectual pursuits, although there's quite a bit of that out here in supposedly-enlightened California as well. The 95F/95% humidity summers. The American exceptionalism, the feeling that somehow the landed white males are superior to everyone else by God's grace.
3. The door is open, and all are welcome. But I've only invited about a dozen people. If the grocer happens by, we'll greet her from the porch and invite her and her kids in for a bite. I live in a household of five, so we can switch off the hosting duties -- I can go hide in the back room as it's necessary, without fear that people will feel unwelcomed.
4. Universal health care. Right bloody now. Emphatically including medical and psychiatric care for the veterans and victims of this clusterfuck of a war. As important as it is to end the war, and as much as I'd like to do it, this trumps it by a long way.
5. Unlimited? Pay off a staggering number of bills. Contribute another staggering amount to the bank accounts of various charities and associates (friends in the fannish community, Buffistas, etc.) anonymously if possible. Rent a truly silly minivan and drive my entire household and their mates up to Harbin Hot Springs and laze around for a week. Wire money to any of my far-flung family-by-choice (Buffistas and otherwise) who want to join us. Give my mother enough money that she can retire comfortably.
Go nuts, y'all.
1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like your favorite lyric to your current favorite song. Or your favorite kind of sandwich. Something random. Whatever you like.
2. I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.
3. Update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.
arliss asked me:1. You suddenly acquire an income more than adequate to meet your needs. Liberated from the need to earn a living, what profession or avocation do you pursue?
2. You spent part of your childhood in the south. What makes you nostalgic? What are you glad you escaped?
3. You're having a celebration. How large a party is it, and who do you invite? Do you include people from work and the neighborhood and the grocer from the corner store? I don't need a guest list, just an idea of how large or small your celebration would be.
4. If you could change one national government policy, what would it be?
5. One week with unlimited funds; what do you do?
And I answered:
1. The answer to this one terrifies me with how easily it slipped into my mind: I start a church. I turn no one away: no denominational requirements. I invite pastors, priests, rabbis, imams, bodhisattvas, anyone who will help. And we preach love, forgiveness, love, resistance to evil, love, mindfulness, love, tolerance, and a bit more love. Until they came to take us away.
2. What makes me nostalgic: The sounds of thunder in the summertime (rare out here, but much more common there). The sound of a young black waitress asking an older white man in a wheelchair, "What can I get you, baby?" (I do not know whether they were previously acquainted -- I've been away too long to differentiate the 'baby' one uses with strangers from the one used with friends and family.) Talking to you; hearing the softness of those North Carolina vowels, coupled with the natural warmth of your voice. The sight of fireflies, so common in the east Tennessee summers, unheard of in my portion of California.
What I'm glad I escaped: The almost-ritualised homophobia, and the air of casual menace that Southern males project towards people they see as interlopers. The deep mistrust of intellectual pursuits, although there's quite a bit of that out here in supposedly-enlightened California as well. The 95F/95% humidity summers. The American exceptionalism, the feeling that somehow the landed white males are superior to everyone else by God's grace.
3. The door is open, and all are welcome. But I've only invited about a dozen people. If the grocer happens by, we'll greet her from the porch and invite her and her kids in for a bite. I live in a household of five, so we can switch off the hosting duties -- I can go hide in the back room as it's necessary, without fear that people will feel unwelcomed.
4. Universal health care. Right bloody now. Emphatically including medical and psychiatric care for the veterans and victims of this clusterfuck of a war. As important as it is to end the war, and as much as I'd like to do it, this trumps it by a long way.
5. Unlimited? Pay off a staggering number of bills. Contribute another staggering amount to the bank accounts of various charities and associates (friends in the fannish community, Buffistas, etc.) anonymously if possible. Rent a truly silly minivan and drive my entire household and their mates up to Harbin Hot Springs and laze around for a week. Wire money to any of my far-flung family-by-choice (Buffistas and otherwise) who want to join us. Give my mother enough money that she can retire comfortably.
Go nuts, y'all.
Enviable friends
Apr. 11th, 2007 01:21 amI can't begin to thank you enough for the comments on the last entry. I've been feeling a little self-conscious, a little unseen and unheard, a little hermity.
Reading kind words from people I care about is truly a wondrous thing. Thank you so much.
Reading kind words from people I care about is truly a wondrous thing. Thank you so much.
A meme from prncsmoonbeam
Apr. 10th, 2007 03:43 pmAs seen in a couple places on my FL:
We all have things about our friends that make us slightly envious.
Not in a bad way, but in a 'Wow! I wish I had that person's hair/eyes/money/relationship/toenails/whatever.'
So tell me what about me makes you envy me. . . then if you feel like it, post this in your LJ and see what makes me envious of you.
We all have things about our friends that make us slightly envious.
Not in a bad way, but in a 'Wow! I wish I had that person's hair/eyes/money/relationship/toenails/whatever.'
So tell me what about me makes you envy me. . . then if you feel like it, post this in your LJ and see what makes me envious of you.
For the GWW 'school lunch' challenge
Apr. 3rd, 2006 09:31 pmI never knew how he did it. Maybe just his manner: all the good bits of Southern gentility, without the racism or pomposity. There were always at least four girls sitting with him at lunch, loudly razzing him, vying for his attention, or just soaking up his kindness. He didn't date much that year -- his sweetheart was a year older, already at college. But oh, how they loved him. And for one sweet, blessed year, I sat with them, trying like hell not to make a fool of myself as I learned what it was to be a gentleman.
Job update
Feb. 17th, 2005 06:26 pmThey went with the other guy.
Turns out maybe I was right to be afraid to want it this much.
I'm sure it's a sign, but of what I don't know.
I've turned off comments on this entry for the moment, because I think I'll just crack wide open if I get expressions of sympathy. I may re-enable them later.
Thanks to each and every one of you for your good thoughts and vibes.
On edit: Comments now re-enabled. Thanks for your patience.
Turns out maybe I was right to be afraid to want it this much.
I'm sure it's a sign, but of what I don't know.
I've turned off comments on this entry for the moment, because I think I'll just crack wide open if I get expressions of sympathy. I may re-enable them later.
Thanks to each and every one of you for your good thoughts and vibes.
On edit: Comments now re-enabled. Thanks for your patience.
This year is going to be all about devoting time to what's important to me. But I can't do that until I determine what's wheat and what's chaff. So I expect to spend a significant amount of the winter in contemplation and meditation, asking the questions "What is really important to me?", "How does this help me live the life I want?", and all of those other horribly philosophical quandaries that sound alternately like I'm a navel-gazing yuppie or a neo-Classicist wannabe.
The thing is, the yuppie lifestyle just doesn't appeal to me. I'm terrible at being a materialist, I despise television with a passion that almost frightens me, and I don't believe in the power of unfettered capitalism to solve the world's problems. Hell, at this point, I'm not sure the world's problems can be solved.
So why all the introspection? Mainly because I'm tired of being depressed -- I've been in what feels like a hibernation-state since active development on my last real project stopped in March of 2003. The economic struggle has sapped my will in so many ways, and I'm tired of giving it that kind of power over me. So I want to rediscover my passion for things, for ideas, for people. Because I'm not going to get to do this again, at least not in this body and with these opportunities.
I expect that my contemplation will follow these general guidelines:
1. People are never chaff. Certain people may not be ideal to be entangled with, but people are never objects to be gotten rid of. I know it sounds simplistic, but it's a moral value, if you will.
2. Wealth and security are not synonymous. I'm not sure security really exists here and now, although compared to River in Baghdad, we're all pretty damned secure. I had an opportunity to work hard and neglect my family and brown-nose my way up once, and I didn't like the feel of it. Wealth in this country feels too much like keeping the boot of progress on the necks of those less fortunate.
3. Love is the most important force in my life. This has many ramifications; it also puts me seriously at odds with what seems to be the prevailing spirit of the here-and-now. Learning to say "I will not hate you, but I will not participate in this activity that I see as destructive to others and incompatible with loving my neighbour" may be the single hardest lesson of my life. Jean Chrétien's "We will not participate" may in fact be the most moral thing I've seen a politician do in the past decade. I expect I will be returning to this topic many times over the coming year. It raises all sorts of questions, mostly having to do with how many steps of the causal chain do I need to feel personally responsible for, and how can I make ethical choices in the midst of a society that endorses such practices as factory-farming and near-slave labour simply by its economic structure? How much of that can I bite off at once?
4. Technology has widely unacknowledged second- and third-order effects. While the widespread use of computers and the Internet has made possible at least part of Bertrand Russell's dream of unfettered communication between ordinary citizens around the world, those same computers are being used by oligarchies and economic powers to maintain their hold on the levers of power. As a technologist and a humanist, I feel I have a responsibility to benefit the little guy more than I benefit the big guys -- the big guy can get along just fine without me, but the little guy needs all the help he can get.
There, that's a good place to start. Comments welcome; I hope to refine my thoughts out here in this semi-public forum, and thoughtful criticism is always a help.
The thing is, the yuppie lifestyle just doesn't appeal to me. I'm terrible at being a materialist, I despise television with a passion that almost frightens me, and I don't believe in the power of unfettered capitalism to solve the world's problems. Hell, at this point, I'm not sure the world's problems can be solved.
So why all the introspection? Mainly because I'm tired of being depressed -- I've been in what feels like a hibernation-state since active development on my last real project stopped in March of 2003. The economic struggle has sapped my will in so many ways, and I'm tired of giving it that kind of power over me. So I want to rediscover my passion for things, for ideas, for people. Because I'm not going to get to do this again, at least not in this body and with these opportunities.
I expect that my contemplation will follow these general guidelines:
1. People are never chaff. Certain people may not be ideal to be entangled with, but people are never objects to be gotten rid of. I know it sounds simplistic, but it's a moral value, if you will.
2. Wealth and security are not synonymous. I'm not sure security really exists here and now, although compared to River in Baghdad, we're all pretty damned secure. I had an opportunity to work hard and neglect my family and brown-nose my way up once, and I didn't like the feel of it. Wealth in this country feels too much like keeping the boot of progress on the necks of those less fortunate.
3. Love is the most important force in my life. This has many ramifications; it also puts me seriously at odds with what seems to be the prevailing spirit of the here-and-now. Learning to say "I will not hate you, but I will not participate in this activity that I see as destructive to others and incompatible with loving my neighbour" may be the single hardest lesson of my life. Jean Chrétien's "We will not participate" may in fact be the most moral thing I've seen a politician do in the past decade. I expect I will be returning to this topic many times over the coming year. It raises all sorts of questions, mostly having to do with how many steps of the causal chain do I need to feel personally responsible for, and how can I make ethical choices in the midst of a society that endorses such practices as factory-farming and near-slave labour simply by its economic structure? How much of that can I bite off at once?
4. Technology has widely unacknowledged second- and third-order effects. While the widespread use of computers and the Internet has made possible at least part of Bertrand Russell's dream of unfettered communication between ordinary citizens around the world, those same computers are being used by oligarchies and economic powers to maintain their hold on the levers of power. As a technologist and a humanist, I feel I have a responsibility to benefit the little guy more than I benefit the big guys -- the big guy can get along just fine without me, but the little guy needs all the help he can get.
There, that's a good place to start. Comments welcome; I hope to refine my thoughts out here in this semi-public forum, and thoughtful criticism is always a help.
