The Incredible Shrinking Me.

Okay, so it's not quite that drastic. On this liquid diet I've lost 25 pounds, and next week is the surgery. I've not been all good - the shakes are vile, no matter what flavor, and there's been a handful of times when I did eat something... but I never gorged or anything, and by and large I've been pretty good. I need to put more holes in my belt, so that feels good, and people say they can see the weight loss.

Possibly TMI, and my questionable sense of humor.

I still don't feel much different - no more energy like they were saying would happen. If anything, I'm still kind of tired. I just got my 2 view chest x-rays done, and an upper GI. And just so you all know, barium tastes god-awful. I used to feel sorry for the dogs we had to do a barium series on at work, but now, hooo, boy, I will no longer blame them for squirming when we try and poke a syringe of the nasty stuff in their mouth. I will have festive feces for a couple days - all white. Just in time for Christmas, eh? Now for the blood tests - which I may get done later today, or next week. We'll see.

I need to do a little running around - try and get my family and friends their gifts before I go into the hospital and won't be running anywhere for while. Small presents this year, and a regretable cutting off of any more art-getting, though I still have a few that are paid but pending, so will just have to tide me over for a while. I think I've become addicted to art of my characters. Such as these awesome gems.

Johari, from this story, all grown up and ready to kick butt in this picture by Jeddibub. http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1761204/

A nifty little icon of Kaz after either a successful hunt (gods, craving MEAT so badly), or a good fight (the blood of your enemies is tasty), by Kalamu, whose name is just fun to say.

Also. Finally. I wanted to do one thing in the middle of this whole mess that was for me, and for a while, it looked like between the cost of the surgery, the myriad tests and x-rays and medication and meal replacement crap etc., that I wouldn't be able to. However, someone stepped in, and helped me out, and I owe them much love and thanks. I got that new computer. Not a hand-me-down, not just a newer-than-my-previous one, a brand, spanking, new PC. We're reorganizing the room for post-surgery concerns, and I will likely be spending the first couple weeks over at my grandmother's house with no access... but after that? WoW, here I come. Rp rooms, I return. No more sharing a computer that I can get kicked off of at any moment because my own is too old and teeny to do anything, even display mIRC or a webpage decently, and no more worrying about memory limits, which made even older games run incredibly slowly if at all. So. Something to look forward to. :)

And yes, I'm scared witless about the surgery. That's why I'm babbling like a brook.

Ah! How could I forget this? I only wish I'd seen it sooner. If you haven't yet, watch. I laughed myself silly, and though I don't generally like Jack Black - Kung Fu Panda notwithstanding - he's damn funny here, and sings decently too. So does Neil Patrick Harris. I was damn impressed with his performance.

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

Farewell to Food

I had my mandatory evaluation by a psychologist today, to see if I was mentally able to have the surgery. Just one of the many hoops I've begun jumping through. I got sent a questionnaire by email, and we talked about my answers and other stuff relating to the operation for 2 hours. Conclusion? I've got issues (*snort* Big surprise there.), but am cleared to continue on and get the surgery. And since my post-op kit arrived, with my "meal replacement" drinks, I'm no longer going to be able to eat... well... food. Though normally these are only started on 2 weeks before the surgery date, I'm sooooo fortunate in that the doctor wants me starting on them RIGHT NOW. I understand the reasons, but it's going to be a pain in the booty over Thanksgiving. Ah well. No pain, no gain, isn't that what they say? So mi familia gathered for a "Farewell to Food" dinner. I had mozzarella sticks, steak and lobster, and it was gooood. No, I didn't overeat. Didn't even go for a dessert. I am going to miss my Arizona green tea and honey, though. *sniff* But the doctor told me that getting away from the commercial green tea and just having it plain would still be okay. So there's hope!

Also, sheer awesomeness in the way of a Halloween icon from the fantastical oCe.

Goodbye to good men.

Yesterday, Richard Blonigan's ashes were scattered out at sea, three miles or so off the coast at Moss Landing, near Monterey Bay. This was done by my mother and grandmother from a small aircraft at around 1:15 p.m. While I had wanted to attend, when we arrived at the airport, we were told that taking up three people wasn't possible, so I stayed behind at the airstrip and watched them take off. My grandfather, Kenneth Roberts, was also scattered at that time - he passed away a little over a year ago, and had also known and been friends with Mr. B, so they both had a bit of company on the way. The morning started damp, and the flight was in danger of being canceled due to fog, but as it cleared up by late morning, the pilot was willing to take us out later, and did so. When they took off, the sky was a clear blue with high, wispy white clouds and warm golden sun. According to my grandmother, the sea was the calmest she's ever seen it, and glittered in the daylight, dark blue. Mr. B's ashes were scattered in a low circle over the water by someone who loved him very much, and still misses him -- my mother, Ruth. He is continuing to travel, as he wished. My grandfather, an avid fisherman and former navy sailor, has gone back to the ocean he loved (as well as having a small presence in a few other places he loved being). Then, when they came back and touched down, we three went and had a drink to their memory.

Though I didn't say anything at the time, I was upset. The plane was a four-seater, and with the pilot, only three people went up. It was my weight which prevented me from being able to go. I'm not sure if it was prohibitive due to the fuel or safety reasons, but it hit me rather hard. Despite the fact that my surgery is now scheduled for Dec. 12, and I'm jumping through the various hoops (psych evaluation next Monday, lab tests, x-rays, and EKG to be done soonish), it didn't come soon enough. Not that I blame anyone - I'm the one who finally got things going only now, because of several valid reasons that are still valid. I guess I'm just... frustrated. I miss both of them still, though Mr. B more keenly if only because we're finally going to be selling his mobile home. I'm no longer going there to watch over things - there is very little left to watch over. I'll no longer have a place to go when heading to San Jose for Further Confusion. Not that I'd be attending this year anyhow, due to the surgery. So even though I'd intended to do the panel again, looks like it'll have to wait a year before I get that back on track. And I sort of figured that would be the case, so I didn't even try to set it up with the FC folks. On the bright side, I should be looking a lot better when I do show up again.

Misc things -- got a wonderful tagua pendant from FoxFeather that I am working on beading a short string to so I can fasten it to my braid. Looksee.

And a meme for you all. It's called Quid Pro Quo, and I snagged it from Mulefoot. It's quite simple. This is just like the "Ask me anything" meme but if I answer your question, you have to answer mine. Something for something. So ask me anything you want, silly, serious, random, or mundane, but realize you'll have to give up an answer, too. Have at, if you wish.

"It is time," the Walrus said,
"To speak of many things.
Of ships and shoes and sealing wax,
Of cabbages, and kings."

There really is so much I should talk about. I still have to go over my trip to Oklahoma to see my best friend - pictures that need posting and all - being visited by a friend from Australia, and a few other things of note. But I am going to settle for a quick and dirty sort of update, as there is something larger on my mind.

Tilting at Windmills

I finally began the process for getting my surgery. I had my consultation - and that lasted 3 hours. The end result is, the precise surgery I'll be getting is called a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy. It will be laparoscopic, and basically, your stomach is roughly a c-shape, with the top of the "c" where the esophagus attaches, and the bottom, the pylorus, where the intestine attaches. The inner part of the "c" is short, but the operation would cut off the rest of the stomach to the side of those two points. Then, the portion that's left is going to be about the length of a nice fat ball-point pen sans the cap. There are x-rays and blood tests to be done, but we're looking at December as the month it takes place. There's a lot more, of course, but I'll spare you all the rambling details. In the end, it's scary, but exciting, all at once.

Whee! Pictures! All the art I've been so bad about showing but have gotten. Some may be reposts because I can't remember if I showed y'all or not.

Other folks' art. Image intense.

A character sheet of Kaz I commissioned from the lovely EbonyTigress. Linked to her FA page because photobucket is stupid and resized it too much. But oooh, so pretty. Loves it, I do, even if I should have had her add a lot more text. Glorious art of Kaz.


Blackavar by GunnerRomantic on DA.




A sketch of Kaz by Savannah Horrocks.



Nifty little headshot of Kaz by Chien.



Veilia and Asterion by Kaji.



Dingane by Bonez.




Sehran and Sabedra in trueform by Ebony Tigress.

And a surprise gift that blew me right outta my socks. Kaz and gallowspony by Dogsoul, aka rantingmule on lj. Serious thanks. I can't tell you how much I love this beauty. I'm still in awe. Thank you! *hugs*





And some art of my own.

Nothing too special. An unfinished short story that's going to stay so because the characters I made for it ( Rue, Lichen, Bitou, and others) can't be used elsewhere, and the creator of the world and races has decided not to go forward with her plans. Crosswinds.

And a character done for a canceled contest, whom I owe many many thanks to Leif for helping me create. Couldn't have done it without him. Pirate cat.

I am alive. No really. Honest. No flowers yet, dammit.

It's just been... well. A little strange, a little frustrating, and a little just my ever present talent for procrastination.

It was Mr. B's birthday yesterday. We had birthdays a bit over a week apart, so we always took each other out to dinner at Red Lobster, one of our favorite restaurants, and then generally, but not always, a movie. So I did. I went out after work - and boy, had work been long - still in my scrubs and scarf, and went to eat. Then, saw Hellboy II. Good movie. I enjoyed it. I liked it. A nice evening, all in all, except the chairs across and then beside me felt achingly empty. I had no one to turn to afterwards and talk the movie over with. No one to grouse to about how Nuala was an idiot, killing herself there at the end, when if she'd just stuck that blade in her eyes, she could have lived. I daresay Abe would have loved her just as much if she were blind, and I don't care how friggin' stoic you are, getting stabbed in the eyes, even if by proxy, is gonna make you stop that last ditch charge and claw at your face in agony. Maybe not as noble, sure, but a helluva lot more practical. There were no jokes or impersonations to make me laugh over it, no deeper comments on the movie itself. No one to just glee over the parts of the movie I found spectacular. I miss him. More now than before. We've been slowly working our way through things. His estate sale will be the weekend of the 15th. I can't even imagine not being able to go to his house. I can't imagine all his things gone... someone else in there, looking up at his ceiling. The ceiling I look up at, looked up at. I always liked his ceiling. Slanted upwards, white, with big, thick, dark brown wooden beams travelling crossways. I don't know why. Maybe because it's interesting. And how many interesting ceilings do you get to see in your life? Really? I never got tired of just looking at it, stretched out on the couch, Mr. B moving around, doing his thing - playing his trombone or watching TV, with Rill sitting beside me on the back of it. She liked to perch there. I miss her, too.

Today has been silent. The past couple weeks of overtime and covering days I don't normally work has taken a lot out of me. I went to bed around my normal time, midnight, and didn't wake up until near one in the afternoon. The computer is acting up horribly - the repair guy first didn't show, then when he did, the computer behaved for... maybe 2 days? Just enough time to try and get the backlog gone through for my DA account, and then, when I sit down to write some emails... poof. Then I couldn't even look at DA. I don't know when the repair guy is coming back - Brad is handling it now.

It hasn't been all bad. There's been the trip to see my best friend in Oklahoma, which I'll have to go into later in more detail, and the visit from an Australian friend for a couple days. And there was yesterday morning. But I'll save that for last, because... well... even after writing all this, it'll still lift my mood, and I want to be able to go away on that.

I haven't been drawing as much as I should have. I've got some things started, but somehow, I haven't been able to get myself to finish them. Or even start anything new. I have to wonder if being able to afford to commission others, who have the abilities that I don't to somehow get closer to depicting what I have in my head than I ever have... and am so far from being able to do myself... has stunted my drive to even make the effort. I love looking at art, at amazing art. But my inability to make any progress in my own skills, well... it's never gotten to me to this degree. I've always said, if you do something long enough, you get better. And so I plugged away at drawing, and I have gotten better. But the things I learned in the class I took are starting to fade... I can't hold onto it. The same for my writing - I feel I've languished. I haven't written anything new in the past year - well, one thing, but I don't view it as being my usual quality at all. And my old stuff STILL remains unfinished. Yes, I've been busy. Yes, I've had other things going on. But... I used to write like I breathed. I never went anywhere without a notebook, and I filled those to overflowing. I want to write. And I find myself unable to. Where's my creativity gone? It's been absent for years now, it seems. The attempt to grasp it again, by taking that writing class when I'd gone back to school, tanked when I discovered a different teacher, using all the methods I'd despised.

Problems aside, I've startled myself with how far along the road I've gotten. The goals I've set for myself, one by one gotten past. The surgery is the next one, and I'm going to start to work on that soon. There are meetings I'm going to have to go to, to even begin the process. I'm looking into times and places. I play sometimes on the Endless Forest. I have been for quite a while now - I was even one of their beta testers when they first began with the fawns. One of my favorite things has always been just... running. Running through the woods, jumping over logs and streams, seeing how long and how far I can make my deer "fly". I'd like to be able to just run again, myself. Finally get rid of the tendonitis and bum ankle. Not HURT every moment of every day.

But there is good too. A client brought in a stray cat she called Buddy, and fed when he came around - his eyes were horribly gunked up, swollen, red, one leaking bloody fluid, the other with a clear discharge. He could barely breathe for all the congestion, and he sneezed a nasty green discharge on a regular basis. He was maybe 3, 4 years old, intact, had worms, scarred on his head from bites and scratches... and all he wanted was to be pet and scratched. All he wanted was love. He was an orange tabby - sort of. He had the tabby stripes on his legs and head and tail, but they faded away on his body, leaving just tipped orange. He wouldn't stop purring. He'd try to butt his head against hands, body, any part of you he could get to. His eyes were so swollen, nearly shut, he couldn't see very well if at all. You walked into the room, he oriented on the sound of the door, and growled. The moment you spoke to him, told him hello, he realized you were a person, and turned into a snuggler, just as happy to have you there as anything. The woman who brought him in didn't own him, just fed him when he wandered by. He was a neighborhood cat, and he roamed a few. She hadn't seen him for a couple months. If his prognosis was good, she wanted him neutered, and she'd keep him. Intact tom with fight wounds? You bet. FIV positive. But they can have good quality lives. They need to be indoors only, to avoid infecting other cats, though. The lady didn't want to risk infecting her other cat. You can't blame her. She brought him in, at least.

But a coworker and I, who handled him, we couldn't stand it. We went halves on his care, and were going to try to find him a home. The owner, when told, was happy, and said she would also help pay the cost of his care. She hadn't liked the thought of him going down. A couple days, and he was improving. And then, the lady called. She'd had second thoughts. She would take him back, make him indoor only, figure out a way to keep the cats apart. Buddy has his home. Kate and I both helped with his bill. No euthanasia for you, my friend. Couldn't happen to a nicer cat. This also happened on Mr. B's birthday.

Same day, but on the other side of the coin from the evening, was yesterday morning. The Saturday crew at work take turns bringing in breakfast. Anything from bagels and donuts to fruit tarts and pastries, to waffles and pancakes. There'd been a bit of confusion as to whose turn it was, with some regulars not coming in, one on vacation, and the list being on a computer that decided to die. So I said I'd do it. I left a bit early, to pick up bagels and still be on time. I left the house and walked into fog. Fairly dense, though not dangerously so - I could see maybe 5,6 car lengths ahead. Soft and gray, it misted the air, cool and muffling. It made things quiet, even moreso than they already were. It was pretty, in the way fog can be. Everything was wrapped in soft shade. It was enough to make me smile a little, as I drove through the hills and saw it tangle in the oak trees, blanket over the tall grass and fields, reluctantly let go of oncoming cars.

As I got closer to the freeway, where I'd turn to go towards work, the trees changed to eucalyptus... and suddenly, the fog ahead began to get lighter. As my eyes widened, it began to glow, light turning everything to blazing silver, to white, streaking in beams through the fog and through the branches, until I drove into light and fog and it was the same, all around, shining so bright it took my breath away, the greens popping, the browns of bark and trunk turned to a brilliant hue, and all this, in the space of one breath. The next, saw the fog abruptly end, and blue sky, yellow sunlight, the trailing fingers of the fog lingering in the shadows of the trees and swiftly left behind. I laughed aloud for the wonder of it all. It was so marvelous, and so beautiful, all of it, from first glimmer of a lighter hue in the fog, to the blaze of blue and yellow, and it happened so fast, for all its gradation! The joyous feeling lasted a long time, I can tell you. Beautiful. Just beautiful. I wanted to turn around just to drive through it again. I settled for calling my mother, ordering her to get in her car and just drive to the store and back. She'd see why if she did. And my mother being my mother, and knowing me, did so. She was amazed, too.

Maybe I was wrong, looking in the evening. Maybe Mr. B was in the morning. Maybe Rill was in the day. Huh. Didn't think of that until just now.

A drop in the bucket against a cloudburst.

As if someone, somewhere, decided there had to be at least a little bit of good to try and weigh against the bad, the other day I got my employee evaluation at work. Evidently, I'm easy to work with, I'm doing a good job, and though they want me to pick up a bit on initiative, they know I'm working on it and have been improving. So I got a raise. A nice one.

Watch, my dog, was 13 years old. He had a degenerative nerve condition in his back and rear legs which was slowly robbing him of muscle and the ability to walk. Eventually, I knew, he would lose the use of his hind legs completely, and the ability to control his bowels. Still, we managed it with medications and keeping his weight down. Last week, he went completely incontinent. And then, the past three days, he started going off his feed, only eating a little, getting listless. He fell down a lot more. It was time. My mom had gotten very attached to him, and even my stepfather, not a dog person, got teary-eyed in the room. We were all with him. I fed him a triple Whopper that he didn't finish. It all came on rather fast... he'd just been a blood donor, saving another dog's life, not 2 weeks ago, despite being an old man. Today, we had to euthanize him. My dog is gone.

God, but I'm so very tired of death.

I have letters after my name.

I passed. I'm a Board certified Registered Veterinary Technician now.

One hurdle leaped, and I feel relieved. I was happy for about a half hour, but during the test I was so certain I wasn't doing well that I think I kind of psyched myself out. But the relief is staying.

I still don't think I'm a competent RVT, but... that will come in time. Book learning is always different than reality, and I'm at least progressing with my real-life education in how to do the job. Practice, right? It'll just take practice. And in the meantime, I'm not adverse to a little celebrating. ;)

Long hours, too short.

The night’s marched on by, and till morning’s not so long.
It’s come down to do or die, come down to right or wrong.
The studying’s all been done, and it’s time to lay me down.
I’ve no longer the choice to run, far too late to turn back now.

Hope rests on the sunrise, but the fever’s got to my brain.
Sleep’s missing from my eyes, familiar restlessness come again.
The weight of expectations sit, no heavier than my own,
but so much harder to lift, the older that I’ve grown.

The fear is disappointing all those hopes that ride on me.
Of those so much more deserving, and deserving more than me.