Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

By the Numbers

I did the math last night. I've been in love with Gary 41 years. He has said "I love you" almost  every one of those days, even on most of the days we've fought. Even if you take off the six months we were on the outs, that's still over fourteen thousand times (14,785). 

Mom didn't start saying "I love you," until I was in college. I don't remember Jerry saying it, and my stepdad certainly never did. 

But Gary's so swamped me in an avalanche of "I love yous" that if anyone else were to ever say it,  I couldn't hear it from underneath the avalanche. Much less feel it. Much less to begin a new life and a new count starting at one.

TWIL: Clinical Trials Move Fast

I went in for a quick blood draw for the clinical trial and found they switched things up. Before, the real drug was the new formulation of Evusheld, and the placebo was the old-school Evusheld (the one useless against omicron), so they could show the increase in effectiveness. 

Evidently the government got involved and changed up the rules. It's now a cage match between  the new drug and salt water, at least for me. 

It doesn't matter anyway, because I know that just the act of taking even a placebo is beneficial, so just knowing you got salt water skews the results somewhat. 

I suppose this is the change in pace you get when you are battling a mutating virus.

Anxiety: Warning Signs

TeddyJ sent out a test blast of their cell phone text alert system. The only time in fifteen years that I have seen this system used was to tell us the work lockdown had begun. 

On October 4th, the government is testing their wireless alert system as well. 

And wastewater shows the new ultra-mutated Covid is in ten states.

And then, during the latest visit for the clinical trial, I heard -- again -- that my respiratory rate is too high. The phone's been complaining about that since this past summer. This is the first time a human noticed. I was advised to exercise and breathe more slowly. Inhale, hold it, exhale, hold it. Four seconds each. 

But what came first? The anxiety? The rapid breathing? The rapid breathing that will increase my chances of catching Covid? 

I need a reset. 

Off My Feed

KC noted that Feedly isn't working (and, thank you, KC).

In my research I discovered that RSS Feed readers are outdated now. Who knew. Supposedly  everyone wants emails instead. I doubt this. I seriously doubt this. No one wants an email about my pelvic floor and my ensuing incontinence that may eventually require botox. No one would want an email about even one of those three things.

Anyway, I still followed the Typepad recommendation and signed up with Feedblitz as well, because they do RSS Feeds like we did back in the day, but you can do emails as well.

And then Typepad responded to my query with:

"We are currently experiencing an issue with feeds not being reachable by outside services, including feed readers like Feedly. Even if you don't use FeedBlitz, the feed should still update in Feedly if everything is working correctly. However, it is not. As soon as we are able to resolve the issue, you will start seeing the latest posts in Feedly."

(I really like the "However, it is not." Style points for that, whatever AI wrote this response.)

Until things are fixed, my 20 Feedly users, come here directly. (That is, if you like. You aren't missing much lately). 

Weekly Paint Progress: 9/21

This week the Basic Shapes went from this:

... to this.

Urologist

After three months of the oxybutynin, I give it a C minus. When I rely on it to give me total relief, it works quite well 50% of the time, while at the same time it only lets me digest the first 50% of lunch or dinner. I told the doctor I wanted to keep experimenting with it for a few more months.

I don't know if he expected that. When I went in the exam room a flexible bladder botox needle was waiting for me, as long as my shin, which alarmed me, until I noticed the label said it was adjustable. 

I know the bladder botox is the standard treatment for a neurogenic bladder, but the side effects are:

• Up to two days of "period cramps." 
• UTI symptoms. 

I could take the UTI, but TWO DAYS OF CRAMPS? What a nightmare.The needle could be six feet long and I would still be more afraid of the cramps.

I need to think about this some more. 

Breaking Bear News

I was going to report on the urologist, but then A BEAR WENT TO DISNEYWORLD.

She climbed a tree right in the middle. Searching for food. How are there no photos? I want to see the bear in the tree snacking on a Mickey Waffle of some other expensive WDW food. 

Area Code

Did you know there’s a 666 area code? Text messages for the clinical trial use that area code. 

How should I add them to my contacts?

• Satan
• The Beast
• AntiChrist

TWIL: Cans of Worms

7:05 am. I am mentally rehearsing a touchy work conversation. In my imaginary apology, I use the term "can of worms."

7:06 am. "Alexa, what is the origin of the term 'can of worms'?"

Alexa: "Here is what I found: The exact origin of the phrase is not completely known, but general consensus traces it back to the 1950s in the United States and literal cans of worms."

Off to the internet for a photo. You can find one here, courtesy of the BBC and this article.

(Evidently in Britain even the worms are cultured. The lid says so.) 

Dentist

I was dreading the dentist, given that the previous buccal filling was so miserable, because it answered the question, "What happens if the pain-killers wear off?"

However, this time wasn't bad at all. This visit answered these questions: 

What happens if I have to pee while I am at the dentist?

The dentist had me in a position where my head was down and my bladder was up, so I didn't notice I had to pee until they took a break two hours in. When they sat me up, I noticed the double-dose of my new anti-pee pill wasn't as effective as I had hoped. They went off to do other dental checks, and I finally decided I was not going to be able to wait, so I clambered out of the still-flattened dentist's chair and headed for the bathroom. I walked past a random assistant. who alerted my assistant. She just said, flatly, into her headphone, "Kayla." The staff wears these headphones to ask each other for materials and equipment. And to say "Kayla," but to mean "Kayla, your patient's gone rogue." (I froze and told her I wasn't a runner, I just needed to use the restroom.)

What happens if I have a coughing fit while the dentist is actively drilling my teeth?

At the first hack the dentist stops drilling, the assistant starts vacuuming out the spit, all while the chair is elevating, and if  you are still coughing while sitting up they peel off the dental dam and let you cough up the tiny drop of water that somehow hit the back of your throat.   

What happens if the mold they use to make your temporary cap malfunctions?

They hand-sculpt a new cap with great care, and it looks like a Jolly Rancher. 

 

Zoom Rules

I notice that Zoom work conversations are more intense than in-person conversations. (Or at least, what I remember of in-person conversations.)

Rude people are ruder, for one thing. I suppose they sense no one is going to bop them in the nose. (Or possibly, "we" sense no one is going to bop "us" in the nose.) No immediate consequence, because there's no immediate feedback, becuase no one is making eye contact, because on a grid of six people you can't tell who is looking at you. One person is looking up and to the right, another down and to the left, and only psychopaths look directly at the camera.  When a friend is on screen I've been tempted to say something completely outrageous and slap a post-it to mark where they looked when they looked at my square. 

I've also "pinned" a friend, where you make the friend's face take over your entire screen, but I can't do that for long. I feel like I'm violating them, get creeped out, un-pin them.

I wonder if we'll all stop making eye contact in real life, and all be recklessly rude when this is all over. 

Weekly Paint Progress: 9/14

This week the Basic Shapes went from this:

... to this.

I am breaking my promise to avoid Photoshop, but just for the cylinder.

 

Driveway

I knew girls in high school who never left for a date without a quarter to call the parents, in case the boy in question got too handsy. 

I could never understand how this would work. Were the girls supposed to bail out of the car from whatever isolated location they were in and walk to a pay phone? Because make out sessions were generally hosted in rural church parking lots, far away from pay phones. 

The quarter was better than nothing, but, nothing compared to my Mom's demand, which was for me to entertain boyfriends, handsy or otherwise, in the driveway of our house. That way, if any unwanted pressure was applied, I just had to go inside.

I got up to all kinds of technical virgin borderline nonsense in that driveway (all with my consent). On the other hand, there were way too many episodes where instead of slapping or arguing I really should have just walked the ten feet from the boy's car to my house, and I chose not to. Lots of missed opportunities there to assert myself, but then I would have missed out on the contrite kissing.

My frailties aside, it really was a great plan. (I know it was a great plan, because many of the boyfriends let me know how much they hated it.)

I eventually started making out with boyfriends inside the actual house, which was even safer, what with Dad wandering past glowering at them. And then when boyfriends came with their own private apartments, well, I married pretty soon after that. 

It occurs to me that Mom might have never expected me to actually stick to this plan. She's not around for me to ask, sadly. Still, I recommend it for anyone with daughters.

WWI

I wondered aloud if a relative might have been of the right age to fight in World War One.

I should have tried to do the math in my head first. Gary rolled his eyes and snapped:

"Ellen, don't talk about things when you know nothing. " I braced myself for the mathematical ridicule.

He continued, "The United States didn't fight in World War One."

And he did it with a tone, even. 

I laughed heartily and directly in his face.  He held fast to his contention that the US didn't fight in World War I. I can tell you after the fact, if you ask Alexa, "Was the United Staes in World War One?" that her first word is Yes.

One hour later Gary finally stopped reading the Wikipedia page List of Wars Involving the United States aloud to me. If I were in his situation, yes, I would go to Wikipedia to educate myself, yet what I would NOT do is educate my spouse for an hour on something she already knows.

And actually, I know he knows. He has to know. He watched 1917 - but then, were there Americans in that movie? All Quiet on the Western Front? Wait, we spent hours in the WWI museum in Kansas City. I know he knows this.

I actually checked to see if "forgetting historical facts you have known for years" is a sign of Alzheimers or dementia. Luckily, I only need to worry if he forgets recently-learned information. 

Review: Anything Sarah Millican Has Ever Done

Facebook's demographic programmers decided I might like the naughty comedienne Sarah Millican, and they are right. I love her, love her accent, love the pantomimes, love love love. Good pick, Facebook.

On the other hand, they were wrong about this.