I bought my townhouse this summer. It's great and I like it. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm thrilled or in love with it, but the simple answer is that it's just another place that I'm going to live for a while. I think that it wouldn't really matter where I'm living, as long as I'm doing it without someone I love by my side, it won't mean as much.
However, I'm very pleased to have my new home and it's one big check mark next to that item on my to-do list.
I am fortunate enough to be able to start another item on my list, as I'm returning to school this week. I'll be in 3 classes this fall, attending through a distance degree program that meets my scheduling needs. I am excited about the challenge of the work and wish that I could devote myself to school full time.
Last week, my mom visited and as a housewarming gift, bought me a bedroom set. I was pretty excited about seeing new furniture in my bedroom. It was the first time I've ever had a new bedroom suite and it's awesome. I especially like my new bed, it's so nice and firm.
I am thrilled with the direction in which I'm moving in my life. It just feels good to make goals and be able to accomplish them!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Lately...
I, like others I know *wink*, haven't been keeping up with blogging.
So, here is a brief recap of the last several months:
Bought my first home (it's a townhouse). Replaced all of the plumbing, painted a wall and moved in.
Work has been frustrating. However, I'm enjoy the fact that 1) I have a job and 2) I have friends at work.
I applied to a college and should be starting classes soon, again working toward my bachelor's degree.
I've decided that I really need to start dating because I'm feeling very motivated to have a companion.
So, here is a brief recap of the last several months:
Bought my first home (it's a townhouse). Replaced all of the plumbing, painted a wall and moved in.
Work has been frustrating. However, I'm enjoy the fact that 1) I have a job and 2) I have friends at work.
I applied to a college and should be starting classes soon, again working toward my bachelor's degree.
I've decided that I really need to start dating because I'm feeling very motivated to have a companion.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Life With Bees
One day at work recently, a coworker told me that one of our custodial staff members keeps bees. Mehmed was telling the people who work in our offices about his "second job," because he was pitching his honey.
He and I struck up a conversation about it the next day and he explained that he was increasing his hives this season. He said that by the end of the season, he would have 100 hives. And those hives would produce about 5 tons of honey. I don't know much about bees or keeping hives, so I'll have to trust his figures on the amount they can produce.
After hearing his projections, I was curious to know where he lived. I wondered where can you keep that many bees? He described where he lived (not too far from my office or my apartment) and I immediately found myself asking, "Can I come see your bees?" I don't think I could've stopped myself if I wanted to.
I have always loved bees, and always felt that they were good luck. I remember once as a child finding a bee dying in the gutter next to my house. It had stung something and would suffer the inevitable consequences for that. But it upset me so much that day. I didn't know if it was in pain. I went inside and found one of my small prized possessions, a white cardboard jewelry box with flat cotton padding in it. I made a little bed for the bee, while probably poking at it a little too much, until it died. I remember crying over that bee and eventually burying him in the box in the yard.
Above: hives all riled up after Mehmed pulled 2 combs per box to start new hives.
Above: honey combs, full and new.
Now, as an adult and a lover of all things food related, I see the real value and luck of having bees around. They are essential to the way of food life as we know it. And since they've been dying out from various problems at an increasing rate in the last decade, a part of me longs to answer the call to raise my own bees in my own yard. Granted, I may end up buying a condo or townhouse and have no place to keep bees, but I get absurdly lucky and end up with a single family home, Mehmed has already promised he would teach me how to keep them.
Above: a tree that died last year cut into 3 sections, with bees living in them.
Mehmed and his wife Fatima are refugees from Bosnia, fleeing years ago during a time of war. They ran from Bosnia directly to Boulder with their three children and have never left. Mehmed previously was a mason, and has various stonework projects around his home as proof. Included in these is the brick fireplace, or as I see it, a brick oven. It is built into a small building next to his garage, the chimney poking out of the roof. Fatima has baked bread and other various goods in the oven, while Mehmed uses the building to smoke meats.
As you walk into his yard, we saw stacks of hive boxes. Mostly they were unoccupied but it didn't stop bees from swinging by, confused, wondering if this is where they should come and drop their loads of nectar. On opposite sides of his yard, there are garden plots holding a plethora of green onion and spinach plants. When we eventually headed home for the day, Mehmed sent me and my neighbor home with bags stuffed full to the point of stiffness with spinach and green onions.
Above: the scene you see when you step into their yard, stacks of hives, ready to be occupied.
After we spent quite a bit of time discussing the bees, including how to start new hives, watering systems (bees will drown in pool type arrangements), frames & combs, and extractors, we sat down with cool beverages and just chatted. We cut into a piece of smoked beef (that I had so forwardly asked Mehmed to let us taste - I know it was rude to ask, but I couldn't stop myself!) and sat in the shade chewing the tough meat and feeding the yipping dogs at our ankles. Once, one of their short dogs managed to jump up and steal a piece of beef from my fingers, teeth scraping against my fingertips, before I even knew what happened. I guarded my meat much more carefully after that. The meat was smoky, tough and chewy and had enough fat content to leave a light layer in the mouth.
Above: chewy, tough, smoky beef.
Fatima came out and handed Mehmed something that looked like a stainless steel pepper mill, said a few words in Bosnian and went back inside the house. Mehmed started to grind the handle of the contraption and when asked, answered that it was a coffee grinder. He showed us how the coffee comes out as a fine powder in the resevoir at the bottom. He explained that they grind the coffee to the finest setting, size zero, because they do not filter the coffee. Fatima came back and retrieved the grinder and went off to make herself some coffee. Or so I thought.
In reality, Fatima was making us some coffee. When she came back out 15 minutes later, she had a tray with a small pot of coffee, a smaller pot of milk, Bosnian sugar cubes (which were white sugar but had a finer texture and less processed taste than American sugar cubes, along with a cruder shape), a set of small espresso style cups and saucers and honey, of course.
While we continued to enjoy the afternoon, discussions moved to family and children. My neighbor and I dutifully shared photos of our only children, which inspired Fatima to go inside and retrieve a photo of her three daughters (who are grown) from when they were children. She tried to find the words in English to express some particular sentiment and when she failed, waited for Mehmed to come back out of the house to help her. Finally, when he returned, she was able to tell us what she couldn't before. The photo of her children, when they were perhaps between the ages of 4 and 8, was the only photograph that they were able to save from being burned in a fire in Bosnia.
I knew that there was a larger story there, but we were on the verge of leaving after staying for 2 1/2 hours and I wasn't ready to push into their past that much (see, I have some boundaries). I can only guess what kind of heartache they must have left behind when they came to the United States.
As we left, I realized that it was the most pleasant and fun afternoon I'd spent in a long time. I went home and made fresh biscuits the next morning so my son and I could enjoy the honey in a way that would honor the freshness of it.
There is something about getting a fresh product made in your local area that makes it inherantly better. I savor it, knowing that it was labored over by a neighbor, produced with care and affection. Every time I eat this honey, I see Mehmed, enjoying the companionship and work of caring for the bees in his yard. And it is sweeter with the memory.
He and I struck up a conversation about it the next day and he explained that he was increasing his hives this season. He said that by the end of the season, he would have 100 hives. And those hives would produce about 5 tons of honey. I don't know much about bees or keeping hives, so I'll have to trust his figures on the amount they can produce.
After hearing his projections, I was curious to know where he lived. I wondered where can you keep that many bees? He described where he lived (not too far from my office or my apartment) and I immediately found myself asking, "Can I come see your bees?" I don't think I could've stopped myself if I wanted to.
I have always loved bees, and always felt that they were good luck. I remember once as a child finding a bee dying in the gutter next to my house. It had stung something and would suffer the inevitable consequences for that. But it upset me so much that day. I didn't know if it was in pain. I went inside and found one of my small prized possessions, a white cardboard jewelry box with flat cotton padding in it. I made a little bed for the bee, while probably poking at it a little too much, until it died. I remember crying over that bee and eventually burying him in the box in the yard.
Above: hives all riled up after Mehmed pulled 2 combs per box to start new hives.
Above: honey combs, full and new.Now, as an adult and a lover of all things food related, I see the real value and luck of having bees around. They are essential to the way of food life as we know it. And since they've been dying out from various problems at an increasing rate in the last decade, a part of me longs to answer the call to raise my own bees in my own yard. Granted, I may end up buying a condo or townhouse and have no place to keep bees, but I get absurdly lucky and end up with a single family home, Mehmed has already promised he would teach me how to keep them.
Above: a tree that died last year cut into 3 sections, with bees living in them.Mehmed and his wife Fatima are refugees from Bosnia, fleeing years ago during a time of war. They ran from Bosnia directly to Boulder with their three children and have never left. Mehmed previously was a mason, and has various stonework projects around his home as proof. Included in these is the brick fireplace, or as I see it, a brick oven. It is built into a small building next to his garage, the chimney poking out of the roof. Fatima has baked bread and other various goods in the oven, while Mehmed uses the building to smoke meats.
As you walk into his yard, we saw stacks of hive boxes. Mostly they were unoccupied but it didn't stop bees from swinging by, confused, wondering if this is where they should come and drop their loads of nectar. On opposite sides of his yard, there are garden plots holding a plethora of green onion and spinach plants. When we eventually headed home for the day, Mehmed sent me and my neighbor home with bags stuffed full to the point of stiffness with spinach and green onions.
Above: the scene you see when you step into their yard, stacks of hives, ready to be occupied.After we spent quite a bit of time discussing the bees, including how to start new hives, watering systems (bees will drown in pool type arrangements), frames & combs, and extractors, we sat down with cool beverages and just chatted. We cut into a piece of smoked beef (that I had so forwardly asked Mehmed to let us taste - I know it was rude to ask, but I couldn't stop myself!) and sat in the shade chewing the tough meat and feeding the yipping dogs at our ankles. Once, one of their short dogs managed to jump up and steal a piece of beef from my fingers, teeth scraping against my fingertips, before I even knew what happened. I guarded my meat much more carefully after that. The meat was smoky, tough and chewy and had enough fat content to leave a light layer in the mouth.
Above: chewy, tough, smoky beef.Fatima came out and handed Mehmed something that looked like a stainless steel pepper mill, said a few words in Bosnian and went back inside the house. Mehmed started to grind the handle of the contraption and when asked, answered that it was a coffee grinder. He showed us how the coffee comes out as a fine powder in the resevoir at the bottom. He explained that they grind the coffee to the finest setting, size zero, because they do not filter the coffee. Fatima came back and retrieved the grinder and went off to make herself some coffee. Or so I thought.
In reality, Fatima was making us some coffee. When she came back out 15 minutes later, she had a tray with a small pot of coffee, a smaller pot of milk, Bosnian sugar cubes (which were white sugar but had a finer texture and less processed taste than American sugar cubes, along with a cruder shape), a set of small espresso style cups and saucers and honey, of course.
While we continued to enjoy the afternoon, discussions moved to family and children. My neighbor and I dutifully shared photos of our only children, which inspired Fatima to go inside and retrieve a photo of her three daughters (who are grown) from when they were children. She tried to find the words in English to express some particular sentiment and when she failed, waited for Mehmed to come back out of the house to help her. Finally, when he returned, she was able to tell us what she couldn't before. The photo of her children, when they were perhaps between the ages of 4 and 8, was the only photograph that they were able to save from being burned in a fire in Bosnia.
I knew that there was a larger story there, but we were on the verge of leaving after staying for 2 1/2 hours and I wasn't ready to push into their past that much (see, I have some boundaries). I can only guess what kind of heartache they must have left behind when they came to the United States.
As we left, I realized that it was the most pleasant and fun afternoon I'd spent in a long time. I went home and made fresh biscuits the next morning so my son and I could enjoy the honey in a way that would honor the freshness of it.
There is something about getting a fresh product made in your local area that makes it inherantly better. I savor it, knowing that it was labored over by a neighbor, produced with care and affection. Every time I eat this honey, I see Mehmed, enjoying the companionship and work of caring for the bees in his yard. And it is sweeter with the memory.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Pizza Margherita
From Gourmet magazine's January 2009 issue.This pizza was full of simple flavors that got better the next day. If I could find some San Marzano tomatoes, I think I'll try those next time.
Pizza Margherita
yield: Makes 6 servings
active time: 35 min
total time: 1 3/4 hr (includes rising time)
The secret to a great pizza Margherita is to use the best ingredients you can find—and to approach them with restraint.Ingredients:
For dough:
- 1 (1/4-ounce) package active dry yeast (2 1/4 teaspoon)
- 1 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, divided, plus more for dusting
- 3/4 cup warm water, divided
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
For topping:
- 1 (14-to 15-ounces) can whole tomatoes in juice
- 2 large garlic cloves, smashed
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 4 basil leaves plus more for sprinkling
- 1/4 teaspoon sugar
- 6 ounces fresh mozzarella, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
- Equipment: a pizza stone
Make dough:
Stir together yeast, 1 tablespoon flour, and 1/4 cup warm water in a large bowl and let stand until surface appears creamy, about 5 minutes. (If mixture doesn’t appear creamy, discard and start over with new yeast.)
Add 1 1/4 cups flour, remaining 1/2 cup water, salt, and oil and stir until smooth. Stir in enough flour (1/4 to 1/3 cup) for dough to begin to pull away from side of bowl. (Dough will be slightly wet.)
Knead on a floured surface, lightly reflouring when dough becomes too sticky, until smooth, soft, and elastic, about 8 minutes. Form into a ball, put in a bowl, and dust with flour. Cover with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel (not terry cloth) and let rise in a draft-free place at warm room temperature until doubled, about 1 1/4 hours.
Make tomato sauce while dough rises:
Pulse tomatoes with juice in a blender briefly to make a chunky purée.
Cook garlic in oil in a small heavy saucepan over medium-low heat until fragrant and pale golden, about 2 minutes. Add tomato purée, basil, sugar, and 1/8 teaspoon salt and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until thickened and reduced to about 3/4 cup, about 40 minutes. Season with salt and cool.
Heat pizza stone while dough rises:
At least 45 minutes before baking pizza, put stone on oven rack in lower third of electric oven (or on floor of gas oven) and preheat oven to 500°F.
Shape dough:
Do not punch down. Dust dough with flour, then transfer to a parchment-lined pizza peel or large baking sheet. Pat out dough evenly with your fingers and stretch into a 14-inch round, reflouring fingers if necessary.
Assemble pizza:
Spread sauce over dough, leaving a 1-inch border (there may be some sauce left over). Arrange cheese on top, leaving a 2- to 3-inch border.
Slide pizza on parchment onto pizza stone. Bake until dough is crisp and browned and cheese is golden and bubbling in spots, 13 to 16 minutes. Using peel or baking sheet, transfer pizza to a cutting board. Cool 5 minutes. Sprinkle with some basil leaves before slicing.
Cooks' notes:
•Dough can be allowed to rise slowly in the refrigerator (instead of in a warm place) for 1 day. Bring to room temperature before shaping.
•Tomato sauce can be made 5 days ahead and chilled.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Glenwood Springs
Last week, we went to Glenwood Springs for a couple of days. It is known for their warm pool that uses the water from the springs. It was lovely. They have one large pool that is just nice 90-93 degree water and then they have a separate "therapeutic" pool which is about 10 degrees or so warmer than that. It was so relaxing.
We also hiked up to the old cemetery where Doc Holliday is buried. Here is the view of the town from the half way up the mountain.
And here are the markers erected for him. It was very interesting to see that many of the old markers included the number of years, months and days that the person lived. I guess they counted it down to the last day since they didn't live as long. The earth there is so red, my tennis shoes were caked with thick red clay.
We also hiked up to the old cemetery where Doc Holliday is buried. Here is the view of the town from the half way up the mountain.
And here are the markers erected for him. It was very interesting to see that many of the old markers included the number of years, months and days that the person lived. I guess they counted it down to the last day since they didn't live as long. The earth there is so red, my tennis shoes were caked with thick red clay.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Good news...and more good news!
Okay, the first and best news: I don't currently have any signs of ARVD, so I'm off the hook for about 2 years. Two years isn't that long of a reprieve, but I'm so relieved to know that everything appears to be okay. It's like having a potential prison sentence delayed.
The second and still really good news: I have a date on Friday! I'm letting my hopes get too high this week that it might be a good date. However, the way I'm looking at it is, chances are, the date will end up sucking and the anticipation will have been the best part. So, I'm letting myself be giddy for 2 more days.
I have also selected a lender for my home purchase. I ended up talking to 6 people in total, and went with the one who I liked financially as well as personality-wise. I am going with Countrywide, which is in the process of being bought out by BofA.
I selected this gal because
1. she was friendly and not condescending
2. she was proud of the work she'd done for her other clients
3. she enjoyed telling me how she watches the rates very closely and locks in when they're at their lowest (she locked in some 4.25 rates back around Thanksgiving - the rate was only that low for about 30 minutes and she was on it!)
4. she says that she'll work with me on the closing costs to make them be what I need them to be
5. our personalities work well together
6. she brought in a rate among the lowest
7. it only helps that she says that BofA is buying them out - I always liked BofA
8. she is local and seems to know plenty about the business in this area
The second and still really good news: I have a date on Friday! I'm letting my hopes get too high this week that it might be a good date. However, the way I'm looking at it is, chances are, the date will end up sucking and the anticipation will have been the best part. So, I'm letting myself be giddy for 2 more days.
I have also selected a lender for my home purchase. I ended up talking to 6 people in total, and went with the one who I liked financially as well as personality-wise. I am going with Countrywide, which is in the process of being bought out by BofA.
I selected this gal because
1. she was friendly and not condescending
2. she was proud of the work she'd done for her other clients
3. she enjoyed telling me how she watches the rates very closely and locks in when they're at their lowest (she locked in some 4.25 rates back around Thanksgiving - the rate was only that low for about 30 minutes and she was on it!)
4. she says that she'll work with me on the closing costs to make them be what I need them to be
5. our personalities work well together
6. she brought in a rate among the lowest
7. it only helps that she says that BofA is buying them out - I always liked BofA
8. she is local and seems to know plenty about the business in this area
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Shopping for a Mortgage
This last week I have started to talk with lenders about a mortgage. I used Lending Tree and I also asked friends to refer me to their banks/brokers.
It has been an interesting process so far. I have received four responses and none of them are exactly alike. There are 30 year conventional loans, loans with origination fees, FHA loans, etc.
But, what I've learned a few things.
First, some brokers and lenders can get lower rates than others. Period.
I compared a conventional bank's rates for the same day to another lender's and saw a .375% difference. That is money - my money - and I care. If you can't get me the lowest rate, we probably won't play ball.
Second, rates change quickly (especially in this market).
If you have to get quotes, do yourself a favor and tell the lender, I would like to get a good faith estimate based on interest rates current at (date and time). That way, you can see what rates all of the places have, side by side. If you get some quotes one day, and then a few more a couple days later, the market may have changed enough that the rates are different for all of the lenders.
Third, the lender's fees are what you are really going to be comparing (right after the mortgage type, if you have points or origination fees).
This is the place on the estimate is referred to as the 800's. (All of the lenders fees fall onto lines in the 800 numbering range.) One lender might have fees of $1120 total, bottom line. Another might have fees of $1650. The only difference is that one is taking a bigger commission for themselves. Keep your good faith estimate, they should stick pretty close to these charges.
And last, don't be afraid to ask.
Ask questions, even if they make you uncomfortable. Ask what this fee is, and what exactly it's for. You will probably get an honest answer. If it's easier for you, I would recommend emailing the lender, so you can phrase things very nicely.
Wait, this will be last thing. If a lender doesn't have the right kind of customer service attitude - dump them.
There is simply no reason, especially in this market, for a person in a customer service oriented job to not offer good customer service. I don't like when people assume I know nothing or provide a half-assed quote because they can't be bothered.
The players so far in my quest for quotes are:
Cherry Creek Mortgage Corporation
Bank of the West
RMC Vanguard Mortgage Corporation
Southwest Direct Mortgage
Joining the game soon:
LendingLadies.com
It has been an interesting process so far. I have received four responses and none of them are exactly alike. There are 30 year conventional loans, loans with origination fees, FHA loans, etc.
But, what I've learned a few things.
First, some brokers and lenders can get lower rates than others. Period.
I compared a conventional bank's rates for the same day to another lender's and saw a .375% difference. That is money - my money - and I care. If you can't get me the lowest rate, we probably won't play ball.
Second, rates change quickly (especially in this market).
If you have to get quotes, do yourself a favor and tell the lender, I would like to get a good faith estimate based on interest rates current at (date and time). That way, you can see what rates all of the places have, side by side. If you get some quotes one day, and then a few more a couple days later, the market may have changed enough that the rates are different for all of the lenders.
Third, the lender's fees are what you are really going to be comparing (right after the mortgage type, if you have points or origination fees).
This is the place on the estimate is referred to as the 800's. (All of the lenders fees fall onto lines in the 800 numbering range.) One lender might have fees of $1120 total, bottom line. Another might have fees of $1650. The only difference is that one is taking a bigger commission for themselves. Keep your good faith estimate, they should stick pretty close to these charges.
And last, don't be afraid to ask.
Ask questions, even if they make you uncomfortable. Ask what this fee is, and what exactly it's for. You will probably get an honest answer. If it's easier for you, I would recommend emailing the lender, so you can phrase things very nicely.
Wait, this will be last thing. If a lender doesn't have the right kind of customer service attitude - dump them.
There is simply no reason, especially in this market, for a person in a customer service oriented job to not offer good customer service. I don't like when people assume I know nothing or provide a half-assed quote because they can't be bothered.
The players so far in my quest for quotes are:
Cherry Creek Mortgage Corporation
Bank of the West
RMC Vanguard Mortgage Corporation
Southwest Direct Mortgage
Joining the game soon:
LendingLadies.com
Friday, March 06, 2009
House Shopping
I'm going house shopping tomorrow!
Ok, realistically, I'm probably more condo/townhouse shopping, but hey, it's all good.
I've been waiting for this day to come for so long. I thought it would have come sooner, but I'm afraid I took a detour called marriage a while back.
I'm so excited! I know that the places I'll be looking at won't be too terribly beautiful or nice, but I don't care. I'm going to try to remember to take photos of the places for my memory, so maybe I'll post them up here. Just think, by the time my lease is up at the end of July, I could be the proud owner of my own little spot on earth.
And just to make sure I start my day off right, after I visit with my friends, I'm going to get a massage. I'm a very happy girl!
Ok, realistically, I'm probably more condo/townhouse shopping, but hey, it's all good.
I've been waiting for this day to come for so long. I thought it would have come sooner, but I'm afraid I took a detour called marriage a while back.
I'm so excited! I know that the places I'll be looking at won't be too terribly beautiful or nice, but I don't care. I'm going to try to remember to take photos of the places for my memory, so maybe I'll post them up here. Just think, by the time my lease is up at the end of July, I could be the proud owner of my own little spot on earth.
And just to make sure I start my day off right, after I visit with my friends, I'm going to get a massage. I'm a very happy girl!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Cautiously Optimistic
Well, another minor delay came yesterday in getting my diagnosis. The doc who was supposed to read my MRI results has been on vacation all week. My doctor didn't realize this until I was already in the office (had already paid my $50 copay, of course).
So, he called the hospital and someone else gave him the opinion that my results looked "perfectly normal." So, while I'm going to get an official answer from the guy who specializes in diagnosing this disease, it is still very reassuring to hear that another cardiologist thinks my results are normal.
I have this feeling of duality - I am relieved but also keep thinking, "Are you sure?" I guess it's disbelief.
Once I get the all clear next week, I will rejoin my gym, try to cut back on eating so many frozen pizzas and try to get out of the funk I've been in.
Right now (smiles), everything is good.
So, he called the hospital and someone else gave him the opinion that my results looked "perfectly normal." So, while I'm going to get an official answer from the guy who specializes in diagnosing this disease, it is still very reassuring to hear that another cardiologist thinks my results are normal.
I have this feeling of duality - I am relieved but also keep thinking, "Are you sure?" I guess it's disbelief.
Once I get the all clear next week, I will rejoin my gym, try to cut back on eating so many frozen pizzas and try to get out of the funk I've been in.
Right now (smiles), everything is good.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Finally - finding love again
I realized recently that I've begun to find love again. I'm starting to see the good in the world all the time.
I think I used to feel this way, but after going through a divorce (or maybe a better explanation is going through a not-so-great marriage) and then having a couple more men act like huge egocentric assholes, it's taken a while to regain this vision of the world (especially towards men).
I'm so glad it's back. Life is much more enjoyable with love in your heart.
I think I used to feel this way, but after going through a divorce (or maybe a better explanation is going through a not-so-great marriage) and then having a couple more men act like huge egocentric assholes, it's taken a while to regain this vision of the world (especially towards men).
I'm so glad it's back. Life is much more enjoyable with love in your heart.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Cardiac MRI
I went in on Friday to get my cardiac MRI. When I got there, they had me use the restroom and change into a gown.
They asked me if I'd ever had an MRI before. I answered, no, and they responded, "So you decided to start with the longest one, huh?" I couldn't believe it, but it would end up lasting almost 2 hours. In the tube.
After they assured me that they were not kidding me, they explained the process in detail. They spoke in low, calm voices, as if I were a skitterish horse and might bolt at any moment.
Since the order was for a cardiac morphology with and without contrast, they put in an IV line before I was slid into the tube. I asked Siegrid what it was that they inject into me to allow the contrast. She said that it was a rare earth element, a metallic fluid.
Once in the tube, there was a computerized program that told you when to breathe in - hold your breath - and then, relax. I had to hold my breath for approximately 15-20 seconds at a time and got maybe 5-7 breaths in between. This lasted for about 1 1/2 hours. Then, they injected the fluid, and had me hold my breath for a full minute (I lasted about 2/3 of the time, then slowly released my breath).
I kept falling asleep (yes - in a tube with loud banging noises that made it so I had to wear ear plugs) for a half second at a time. Then I would start suddenly when the machine made a noise or the voice instructed me to 'breathe in.' I would hastily breathe in, trying to catch up, my heart beating a little too fast because I was caught off guard.
When it was all over, I was stiff from laying so still. I was so glad to be done, glad that they could see the results right when the test was happening, so they knew it was successful. Glad that soon, I would have some answer to the question running laps in my mind: am I at a higher risk of sudden death?
This Thursday, I will know.
They asked me if I'd ever had an MRI before. I answered, no, and they responded, "So you decided to start with the longest one, huh?" I couldn't believe it, but it would end up lasting almost 2 hours. In the tube.
After they assured me that they were not kidding me, they explained the process in detail. They spoke in low, calm voices, as if I were a skitterish horse and might bolt at any moment.
Since the order was for a cardiac morphology with and without contrast, they put in an IV line before I was slid into the tube. I asked Siegrid what it was that they inject into me to allow the contrast. She said that it was a rare earth element, a metallic fluid.
Once in the tube, there was a computerized program that told you when to breathe in - hold your breath - and then, relax. I had to hold my breath for approximately 15-20 seconds at a time and got maybe 5-7 breaths in between. This lasted for about 1 1/2 hours. Then, they injected the fluid, and had me hold my breath for a full minute (I lasted about 2/3 of the time, then slowly released my breath).
I kept falling asleep (yes - in a tube with loud banging noises that made it so I had to wear ear plugs) for a half second at a time. Then I would start suddenly when the machine made a noise or the voice instructed me to 'breathe in.' I would hastily breathe in, trying to catch up, my heart beating a little too fast because I was caught off guard.
When it was all over, I was stiff from laying so still. I was so glad to be done, glad that they could see the results right when the test was happening, so they knew it was successful. Glad that soon, I would have some answer to the question running laps in my mind: am I at a higher risk of sudden death?
This Thursday, I will know.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Under the Influence
I am under the influence. It's comical. I can see it clearly. I listen to a motivational/inspirational CD and I'm ready to conquer the world (I guess that means they're doing the job, right?). I read a story of someone who defies the odds and I want to, too.
I guess that my response is normal. The only thing that isn't exactly average is the pain the butt character trait that runs in my family. The desire to make money. To somehow break out of the regular 9 to 5 lifestyle, and live free...traveling and dining and kissing the cutest guys. Ok, the last part is an embellishment, but I want it still.
So, my sister got me going this time. She told me about a book she's reading (it's on my hold list at the library now) called the Four Hour Workweek by Tim Ferriss.
So, since I knew I would be waiting for his book for a while, I decided to check out his website. People who write books like this always have a website. And usually, the website is full of free, helpful information. Tim's website is definitely like this. He writes about all sorts of things: recommendations for becoming more efficient and effective, travel, how to lose weight or gain muscle, etc.
One of the ideas that I like is the definition of New Rich. I'm not sure who originally coined this phrase, but it's a concept that I'm sure will ring true with many.
It's not the millions of dollars that I'm after. It's the flexibility in my time, the ability to go travel, having a nice car, owning a home and financial security that I really want. That a a drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend who worships the ground I walk on.
And Tim talks about defining what you want and determining what it would cost to get exactly what you want. And, amazingly enough, it is less expensive than you think to get everything you want - if you go about it the right way.
I recommend his website to anyone looking for a new take on life. His own life stories are interesting to read and often times very entertaining. Check out the From Geek to Freak page. The title alone makes me laugh.
I guess that my response is normal. The only thing that isn't exactly average is the pain the butt character trait that runs in my family. The desire to make money. To somehow break out of the regular 9 to 5 lifestyle, and live free...traveling and dining and kissing the cutest guys. Ok, the last part is an embellishment, but I want it still.
So, my sister got me going this time. She told me about a book she's reading (it's on my hold list at the library now) called the Four Hour Workweek by Tim Ferriss.
So, since I knew I would be waiting for his book for a while, I decided to check out his website. People who write books like this always have a website. And usually, the website is full of free, helpful information. Tim's website is definitely like this. He writes about all sorts of things: recommendations for becoming more efficient and effective, travel, how to lose weight or gain muscle, etc.
One of the ideas that I like is the definition of New Rich. I'm not sure who originally coined this phrase, but it's a concept that I'm sure will ring true with many.
It's not the millions of dollars that I'm after. It's the flexibility in my time, the ability to go travel, having a nice car, owning a home and financial security that I really want. That a a drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend who worships the ground I walk on.
And Tim talks about defining what you want and determining what it would cost to get exactly what you want. And, amazingly enough, it is less expensive than you think to get everything you want - if you go about it the right way.
I recommend his website to anyone looking for a new take on life. His own life stories are interesting to read and often times very entertaining. Check out the From Geek to Freak page. The title alone makes me laugh.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Postponed, AKA Dealing with Insurance Companies - Yech!
I was all set to go to my cardiac MRI this morning. My doctor's office had called me last week to tell me that the insurance company said no precertification was required. But the hospital wasn't buying it. Apparently, this type of procedure always requires precertification. So, they called my insurance company to get it.
Long story short, I got involved this morning, found at least one more problem and had to reschedule my appointment to Friday.
What a pain. However, since I'm battling a bit of a cold/sore throat/sinus issue, I thought, perhaps it's better that I'm not trying to stay still in a tube.
On a brighter note, my dinner on Valentine's Day was excellent. Medium rare steak, cooked to perfection, haricots verts, and baked potatoes with butter and sour cream. Delish!! Add in some limoncello and life was excellent.
Long story short, I got involved this morning, found at least one more problem and had to reschedule my appointment to Friday.
What a pain. However, since I'm battling a bit of a cold/sore throat/sinus issue, I thought, perhaps it's better that I'm not trying to stay still in a tube.
On a brighter note, my dinner on Valentine's Day was excellent. Medium rare steak, cooked to perfection, haricots verts, and baked potatoes with butter and sour cream. Delish!! Add in some limoncello and life was excellent.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Robotic Once More
I went back to my doc's today. I kept sensing all sorts of small ironies about my visit. I would ramble on about them, but even I think that they're better left unsaid - they probably wouldn't make much sense to anyone else anyway.
I had an echo done (basically an ultrasound of the heart), and the technician was nice enough to tell me that everything looked good. My mitral valve prolapse hadn't changed, in fact it was very minor that she wasn't sure that she'd even call it that. It was wonderful to hear that.
I also had the Holter monitor reapplied (this time with pads for folks with sensitive skin - nothing like removing a bunch of stickers from your body after wearing them for two days, only to look like a terrible circular sucking leech has gotten ahold of you). I'll wear it again for 2 days.
Erin, the nurse applying the Holter, told me that they'd gone through and checked all of the cards in the monitors since mine had failed. She said it was rare for that to happen, and was apologetic. Somehow, I told her, it doesn't make me feel any better to know that I'm going against the odds, considering the odds of the disease we're looking at.
She also mentioned (like several of my coworkers) that Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I told her the same thing I'd told my coworkers. Ugh. Valentine's Day is a black holiday for single people.
Unless I can meet someone - anyone!! - to catch my interest in the slightest. I wonder where, statistially speaking, the best place is to meet a single guy on Valentine's Day?
I had an echo done (basically an ultrasound of the heart), and the technician was nice enough to tell me that everything looked good. My mitral valve prolapse hadn't changed, in fact it was very minor that she wasn't sure that she'd even call it that. It was wonderful to hear that.
I also had the Holter monitor reapplied (this time with pads for folks with sensitive skin - nothing like removing a bunch of stickers from your body after wearing them for two days, only to look like a terrible circular sucking leech has gotten ahold of you). I'll wear it again for 2 days.
Erin, the nurse applying the Holter, told me that they'd gone through and checked all of the cards in the monitors since mine had failed. She said it was rare for that to happen, and was apologetic. Somehow, I told her, it doesn't make me feel any better to know that I'm going against the odds, considering the odds of the disease we're looking at.
She also mentioned (like several of my coworkers) that Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I told her the same thing I'd told my coworkers. Ugh. Valentine's Day is a black holiday for single people.
Unless I can meet someone - anyone!! - to catch my interest in the slightest. I wonder where, statistially speaking, the best place is to meet a single guy on Valentine's Day?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
"For as much as I've been showing my boobs...
in the last two weeks, I wish I were getting laid."
That was what I said to the two girls placing the sticky leads on my body for the SAECG this afternoon.
SAECG stands for signal averaged electrocardiogram, which is basically like a regular ECG (or EKG as some folks know them), but in a high-def kind of way.
I went down to University of Colorado Hospital, a big sprawling place, which looked pretty new. They are about 45 minutes away from me, but apparently, since this test is so rarely given, they're the only place around with the machine anymore.
I asked how often they performed the test and they said about once or twice a month. In fact, I think the reason that I had two nurses there was because one was learning how to do it because she'd never seen it before. And they said they'd been working together for a long time.
This was the third test out of the five that my doctor ordered for me. I did a stress test on Monday (I told my boss, I don't need a test, I can tell them - I'm stressed!). The nurse told me all through it that my heartbeat looked good and my blood pressure was good. My pulse did get up to over 180 bpm, which was pretty darn fast. But after I sat down, I could feel that I was having a lot of irregular heartbeats and could see them being recorded on the machine. My nurse didn't make any comments after that.
I have my echo on Friday and my MRI scheduled for Tuesday and then I'm done. By Wednesday next week, I should have a good idea of whether or not I have the heart disease in question. It's like Christmas in reverse. The waiting is so hard and I want time to go by faster, but I'm afraid of what I might find on the other side of this week.
That was what I said to the two girls placing the sticky leads on my body for the SAECG this afternoon.
SAECG stands for signal averaged electrocardiogram, which is basically like a regular ECG (or EKG as some folks know them), but in a high-def kind of way.
I went down to University of Colorado Hospital, a big sprawling place, which looked pretty new. They are about 45 minutes away from me, but apparently, since this test is so rarely given, they're the only place around with the machine anymore.
I asked how often they performed the test and they said about once or twice a month. In fact, I think the reason that I had two nurses there was because one was learning how to do it because she'd never seen it before. And they said they'd been working together for a long time.
This was the third test out of the five that my doctor ordered for me. I did a stress test on Monday (I told my boss, I don't need a test, I can tell them - I'm stressed!). The nurse told me all through it that my heartbeat looked good and my blood pressure was good. My pulse did get up to over 180 bpm, which was pretty darn fast. But after I sat down, I could feel that I was having a lot of irregular heartbeats and could see them being recorded on the machine. My nurse didn't make any comments after that.
I have my echo on Friday and my MRI scheduled for Tuesday and then I'm done. By Wednesday next week, I should have a good idea of whether or not I have the heart disease in question. It's like Christmas in reverse. The waiting is so hard and I want time to go by faster, but I'm afraid of what I might find on the other side of this week.
Friday, February 06, 2009
I Feel Like a Robot!
I went to my doc's office yesterday and got a Holter monitor placed on me. It basically consists of 5 leads (just stickers, with really good adhesive) placed on your chest in varies spots and then wires connected to them that join together into one plug and go into a small device. The computer device is about 4.5 x 3 x 1 inches in size and right now it sits in my jeans pocket.
It will record all of my heart activity for about 48 hours, at which point, I'll remove it and it will shut off. There is a small button on the top that I press whenever I feel like my heart is doing something funny, which kind of highlights that area in the readout to bring it to the doc's attention.
When they first put it on me, I was feeling very self conscious. It felt like someone was watching me and it was difficult to relax. I hesitated on pressing the button (I've learned that I have issues with expressing when I feel funny/bad, like I shouldn't tell others) initially, but now just go ahead, figuring, it won't hurt if they don't see anything special. Yesterday, the wires hung below the hem of my shirt and I felt like a robot, accidentally exposing my terrible android secret to the lowly humans surrounding me - would they rise up and kill me?
So far, I've managed not to pull off any of the leads, even in my sleep. I only have to wear it until tomorrow around 1pm. Thank God. Because I need to shower!! I can't stand having to skip a shower if I've sweated and we've been having glorious weather for a couple of days. Which means I've perspired. One day down, one more to go.
It will record all of my heart activity for about 48 hours, at which point, I'll remove it and it will shut off. There is a small button on the top that I press whenever I feel like my heart is doing something funny, which kind of highlights that area in the readout to bring it to the doc's attention.
When they first put it on me, I was feeling very self conscious. It felt like someone was watching me and it was difficult to relax. I hesitated on pressing the button (I've learned that I have issues with expressing when I feel funny/bad, like I shouldn't tell others) initially, but now just go ahead, figuring, it won't hurt if they don't see anything special. Yesterday, the wires hung below the hem of my shirt and I felt like a robot, accidentally exposing my terrible android secret to the lowly humans surrounding me - would they rise up and kill me?
So far, I've managed not to pull off any of the leads, even in my sleep. I only have to wear it until tomorrow around 1pm. Thank God. Because I need to shower!! I can't stand having to skip a shower if I've sweated and we've been having glorious weather for a couple of days. Which means I've perspired. One day down, one more to go.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
You Smell Good Enough To Eat...
Literally.
Anybody who knows me knows that I have an extreme fondness for cheeseburgers. I don't know exactly why, but they are heaven when they're good.
So imagine how much this tickled my funny bone when I saw it:
Yes. You too can smell like a flame broiled Whopper, courtesy of Burger King. Only $3.99, it can be found at Ricky's.
Anybody who knows me knows that I have an extreme fondness for cheeseburgers. I don't know exactly why, but they are heaven when they're good.
So imagine how much this tickled my funny bone when I saw it:
Yes. You too can smell like a flame broiled Whopper, courtesy of Burger King. Only $3.99, it can be found at Ricky's.
ARVD Dr. Visit #1
I went in to see my cardiologist for our initial visit. I was pleased with my experience.
Dr. Oza had me explain my family history leading up to my trip to talk to him. He was very thorough, asking for copies of autopsy reports and anything else that I might mention while I told the story.
He then told me what his experience is with ARVD. He has about 10 patients out of his entire clinic that have ARVD. He said that this number is a very low percentage of his patients (which is good that he told me, since I have no baseline). He says that he probably has more than anyone else in the Boulder area because they are all referred to him. (This is comforting.)
He told me what approach he would like to take (which basically matched the recommendations from Johns Hopkins). He told me that he'd like me to do a bunch of tests and then evaluate them, using contacts from Tucson (another place where they specialize in the disease) to confirm the findings, whatever they may be. He also said that if I wasn't comfortable with that, that he would be happy to provide a referral to either Johns Hopkins or UofA in Tucson.
So, I have four appointments already set up (echo, stress test, 48-hour Holter monitor, follow-up visit with Dr. Oza) and two more to schedule (SAECG and cardiac MRI). I have to get everything done by 2/18, when I go back to see my doctor for a follow up visit.
I mentioned to him that once I started to discover that I'd need to undergo testing, I'd stopped going to the gym (I was going 5-6 times a week) and stopped drinking my one lousy cup of coffee that I enjoy each day. He smiled, told me to go ahead and drink my coffee. But not to go to the gym until we have figured all of this out. I knew that, but it still freaked me out to hear him say that. I just feel like I'd been taking my life into my hands with every trip to the gym and I never even knew it. Oh well, I guess that's life...it's more about what you don't know than what you do.
Dr. Oza had me explain my family history leading up to my trip to talk to him. He was very thorough, asking for copies of autopsy reports and anything else that I might mention while I told the story.
He then told me what his experience is with ARVD. He has about 10 patients out of his entire clinic that have ARVD. He said that this number is a very low percentage of his patients (which is good that he told me, since I have no baseline). He says that he probably has more than anyone else in the Boulder area because they are all referred to him. (This is comforting.)
He told me what approach he would like to take (which basically matched the recommendations from Johns Hopkins). He told me that he'd like me to do a bunch of tests and then evaluate them, using contacts from Tucson (another place where they specialize in the disease) to confirm the findings, whatever they may be. He also said that if I wasn't comfortable with that, that he would be happy to provide a referral to either Johns Hopkins or UofA in Tucson.
So, I have four appointments already set up (echo, stress test, 48-hour Holter monitor, follow-up visit with Dr. Oza) and two more to schedule (SAECG and cardiac MRI). I have to get everything done by 2/18, when I go back to see my doctor for a follow up visit.
I mentioned to him that once I started to discover that I'd need to undergo testing, I'd stopped going to the gym (I was going 5-6 times a week) and stopped drinking my one lousy cup of coffee that I enjoy each day. He smiled, told me to go ahead and drink my coffee. But not to go to the gym until we have figured all of this out. I knew that, but it still freaked me out to hear him say that. I just feel like I'd been taking my life into my hands with every trip to the gym and I never even knew it. Oh well, I guess that's life...it's more about what you don't know than what you do.
Friday, January 30, 2009
When is exercise not a good thing? When you have ARVD.
About 8 years ago, my grandmother died. She had smoked and drank her whole life (always had a Bud in her coozee), so nobody was surprised when they said she had a heart attack. And my grandpa said it was a blessing in disguise because they'd found cancer in several places as well.
Last August, my cousin Donna died. Suddenly. At age 40, leaving behind a husband and children that she'd home schooled. When we heard about this - we were all shocked. After all, Donna was only 9 years older than me, a young person still.
When her sister Robyne started to look into her sister's cause of death, listed as ARVD or arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia (with mitral valve prolapse listed as a contributing factor), she learned that it is a genetic disease, inherited from a parent. Of course, this meant a lot more investigation and testing to see if Robyne was affected, too.
When she started to do research, our Aunt Terry pulled out grandma's autopsy report and told Robyne what was listed as the COD. Arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia. If we had known and been tested 8 years ago, Donna would still be here.
ARVD is a rare heart disease that causes fatty or fibrous tissue to develop where normal heart muscle should be. The abnormal tissue interrupts the electrical impulses being sent to your heart, telling your heart to beat. It is a progressive disease (gets worse with time) and about 75% of the people who have the disease will develop symptoms (which is a really high number). Everyone who carries the disease, which doesn't discriminate between the sexes, has a 50% chance of passing it on to their children. Again, this is a very high number and not very comforting.
Because having an arrhythmia greatly affects the chance that your heart might misfire, there are particular things you are told not to do. Exercise, or other strenuous activity is the first thing they eliminate. If you've ever heard stories of a healthy 20 or 30 something who suddenly dropped dead, this is probably the disease the killed them. Caffeine, nicotine, alcohol and even cold medications are limited.
To diagnose the disease, a person would undergo about 6 noninvasive tests. There is no one definite test that can be performed to tell if you have ARVD. Rather, it is a set of symptoms and indicators taken as a whole that diagnose it.
The most common treatment for a person with ARVD is to be put on a beta blocker and have an internal cardiac defibrillator (ICD) installed in their chest.
My cousin Robyne had it confirmed - she has the disease. She was put on beta blockers and just had an ICD installed.
My sister and I will be going through all of these same tests to see if we, too, have this disease. As it stands now, I was diagnosed with mitral valve prolapse and PVCs a couple of years ago. I can only think of Donna's autopsy and how mitral valve prolapse was a "contributing factor." And how PVCs are a symptom of ARVD.
It changes your whole perspective on life. You feel like you might drop dead at any second. It's difficult to go to sleep, especially when your heart is beating erratically from the stress. You feel every heartbeat thudding and wonder if it's going to stop suddenly. And if it does, will you have time to dial 911?
I have cancelled my gym membership, until I get this all straitened out. I find myself wondering...do I buy a house or do I run away to Europe to enjoy life before it's gone?
I think of the words I recently read in a book - I can't die now. I haven't even lived yet.
Last August, my cousin Donna died. Suddenly. At age 40, leaving behind a husband and children that she'd home schooled. When we heard about this - we were all shocked. After all, Donna was only 9 years older than me, a young person still.
When her sister Robyne started to look into her sister's cause of death, listed as ARVD or arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia (with mitral valve prolapse listed as a contributing factor), she learned that it is a genetic disease, inherited from a parent. Of course, this meant a lot more investigation and testing to see if Robyne was affected, too.
When she started to do research, our Aunt Terry pulled out grandma's autopsy report and told Robyne what was listed as the COD. Arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia. If we had known and been tested 8 years ago, Donna would still be here.
ARVD is a rare heart disease that causes fatty or fibrous tissue to develop where normal heart muscle should be. The abnormal tissue interrupts the electrical impulses being sent to your heart, telling your heart to beat. It is a progressive disease (gets worse with time) and about 75% of the people who have the disease will develop symptoms (which is a really high number). Everyone who carries the disease, which doesn't discriminate between the sexes, has a 50% chance of passing it on to their children. Again, this is a very high number and not very comforting.
Because having an arrhythmia greatly affects the chance that your heart might misfire, there are particular things you are told not to do. Exercise, or other strenuous activity is the first thing they eliminate. If you've ever heard stories of a healthy 20 or 30 something who suddenly dropped dead, this is probably the disease the killed them. Caffeine, nicotine, alcohol and even cold medications are limited.
To diagnose the disease, a person would undergo about 6 noninvasive tests. There is no one definite test that can be performed to tell if you have ARVD. Rather, it is a set of symptoms and indicators taken as a whole that diagnose it.
The most common treatment for a person with ARVD is to be put on a beta blocker and have an internal cardiac defibrillator (ICD) installed in their chest.
My cousin Robyne had it confirmed - she has the disease. She was put on beta blockers and just had an ICD installed.
My sister and I will be going through all of these same tests to see if we, too, have this disease. As it stands now, I was diagnosed with mitral valve prolapse and PVCs a couple of years ago. I can only think of Donna's autopsy and how mitral valve prolapse was a "contributing factor." And how PVCs are a symptom of ARVD.
It changes your whole perspective on life. You feel like you might drop dead at any second. It's difficult to go to sleep, especially when your heart is beating erratically from the stress. You feel every heartbeat thudding and wonder if it's going to stop suddenly. And if it does, will you have time to dial 911?
I have cancelled my gym membership, until I get this all straitened out. I find myself wondering...do I buy a house or do I run away to Europe to enjoy life before it's gone?
I think of the words I recently read in a book - I can't die now. I haven't even lived yet.
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