Hi all! I have been sick a lot this month, so I am crazy busy trying to get these prompts done. Sorry if parts of the next few blog posts are garbled. We're in the stretch!
Dec. 22: Travel. How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel this year? -Tara Hunt
In 2010, I travelled almost exclusively by Prius, with the exception of about 200 miles. There was a cab ride back from the airport in January. My friend gave me a lift to my first post-op appointment for my foot. A few van rides and cab rides back and forth between my car dealership and my home. A bike ride to go pick up the Prius from the dealership. And finally, a tow truck, that carried my dead Prius to a Eugene Toyota Dealership (yes, another dealership).
I only travelled a little this year. In January, I made a brief trip back to my hometown, Pittsburgh, to spend time with my parents, sisters, and niece. The next travel of any sort was the Oregon Country Fair, in July. I drove myself up and back in two day increments, spending the night in Yreka on the northern drive, and Corning on the southern one.
In August, after my husband was offered a great job after almost 11 months of unemployment, we took a short trip to Lassen Volcanic National Park. While we had to cut our visit short, the reason for this is going to make me jump to the prompt after the next one. Don't worry, I'll get back to the one I skipped over.
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Dec. 24: Everything's OK. What was the best moment that could? serve as proof that everything is going to be alright [sic]? And how will you incorporate the discovery into the year ahead? -Kate Inglis
If "Fraught" was the word to describe 2010, August could be considered its zenith. We were really starting to stretch our finances to the limit. We were discussing our options: I had a small IRA I could sell, and DH had stocks.
Meanwhile, DH's seizures were becoming stronger, and more frequent. His new medication, one that has been on the market for less than a year, gave him such bad side effects that sometimes he had to crawl to get around the house.
DH and his neurosurgeon, thinking that there were no more job opportunities out there for the moment, set a date for surgery. Brain surgery that is. Surgery that involves cutting a door in his skull, wrapping his brain with a sheet of electrodes, and then purposefully stimulating those electrodes to cause him to have seizures, in the hope of pinpointing the part of his brain where the wiring went wrong, the "focus." At the end of the week, they would remove the sheet, and any brain they felt might be the problem (which they warned us might be golf-ball sized), and of course, put his skull back together. Recovery is 4-6 weeks.
While DH and his neurosurgeon seemed to be handling events with aplomb, I was falling apart. Looking at my mood chart shows I was pretty freaked out. The chances of death were as good as nil, but I still dreaded life without him. I also feared he would come home with a new personality, not the man I married. I still do fear that a bit, and it turns out, he worries about it too.
The surgery date was set late in August. I was buying pajamas, and teaching myself cribbage so we could play it in the hospital during his week stay. About two weeks before the date, DH got a call from a financial services company: They were interested in his experience in UI (User Interface). Suddenly, it became a race. Could DH get an offer before he was admitted to the hospital?
8 days before his scheduled surgery, DH received his offer. He was so excited, he forgot to sign and fax in his contract, he just read it. When we were on our celebratory trip to Lassen, just as we were about to head out for the day, DH got a call from his new job. Where was his contract? We made a dash to Redding, the nearest town of any size, and waited for a fax of another copy of his contract, had him sign it, fax it back in, then wait for confirmation of his new workplace's receipt of the document. It took 3 tries, but at last we did it!
It had seemed like a horrible last minute nightmare when we first realized we had to get the contract in, or he wouldn't be able to start for another few weeks. But when we knew that contract was in their hands, suddenly, DH was officially employed. The contract was signed, the "i"s dotted, and the "t"s crossed. We had made it. We had lived on umemployment that lasted 6 months, and then on our savings alone for another 4 months. We are playing catch up a little with our debt, but as of January 6, all of our credit cards will be back to zero. We have another round of surgeries and health problems to look forward to in 2011, but the outlook is so much rosier, with DH working, my foot nearly healed (meaning I can get back to my work), and really great health insurance.
We are back.
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Dec. 23: New name. Let's meet again, for the first time. [Cassandra]If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be, and why? -Becca Wilcott
Hello, my name is Cassandra. I am the archetype of the truth teller who is ignored. For predicting the truth time and time again, in other people's minds, I am a foreteller of doom, rather than a seer of the inevitable consequences of their own actions. I am falsely labeled "mad" when I speak truths they do not want to hear. But when I am truly waxing crazy, my truths become harsher, and bitter. They are just as often true. But it is when I predict bad outcomes that come true that people are the most scared of me.
I'm not psychic. I am a "student" of behavior. I am a studier, a watcher, drawn to details, a collector of patterns. It is true, everyone is different. But what makes them different is just the differing weights of the ingredients they share with Everyone else. There are only so many ingredients out of which to make people, although there are always one or two without raisins, and others with nuts.
I learned about human behavior from an expert, a psychopharmacologist who studied biologically based mental illnesses, AKA, my father. He taught me what was normal, what was not. He showed me the rigid patterns in which people think, the way the very words they use to conceal give them away. I learned there were a limited array of behaviours. Some are so dreadful that it is best not to think about them. But for all of them, it is as the old saw goes, there is nothing new on this Earth.
Sometimes, I scare and anger people with my assessments of their friends and what I foresee as the outcome of their actions. The more often I am correct, the harder they push me away.
My plan for now is to lie low, I refuse to fall victim to any scheming Clytemnestra. Another meaning for the name Cassandra is "defender," and I have always been someone who tries to defend the rights of the most marginalized members of society. Sometimes defending is altruistic, such as helping prisoners make legal appeals,. Other times it just means protecting myself from the consequences of mishaps created by my own peculiar recipe of perspicacity and crazy.
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