50/50

The movie 50/50 starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt starts in theaters today. I have seen some of the clips from this movie and it seems like it is going to be every bit as funny as it is intense. Still, I'm uncertain if I want to go see it. The thing is I've been there in the 50/50, and what my oncologists tell me, they wouldn't even have given me the 50. Also with my heart condition, every heart beat could be 50/50. I accept it, but I don't think about it much. I'm wondering if someone who has never been there can truly understand what it is like. When it comes right down to it, I haven't ever described it to anyone, simply because I lack the range of vocabulary to adequately do the job. That's why breast cancer survivors hang out in support groups for years after their diagnosis. Because nobody else understands and we can't tell you what it's like. I'm afraid if I go see it and it totally blows off the all absorbing bottom of the bucket reality of knowing you could die, I will be pissed and disappointed. Because if you don't tell that, there is no story to tell. Then again, if it hits it dead on, will I be back in that place again, with all the emotion that was there when I was sick. Maybe I should just pull Bucket List off Netflix and watch it again.

Crazy Sized Portions

Grilled Chicken Salad from Canyon Burgers
Woodstock, GA

I'm eating out and I have really enjoyed this grilled chicken salad. But I am so stuffed I couldn't possibly think of putting another bite of it in my mouth. There is enough of it left for another whole meal. I'm sure that if I didn't over eat, there would be enough left for another 2 meals. This restaurant is fairly inexpensive. I got the salad and a drink for less than $10. I don't think they should lower their price, just maybe cut the portion and get smaller plates to make people think it's bigger. I hate wasting food, but I know that if I take it home it will sit in my refrigerator until it becomes a science experiment and I will still have wasted it.

My Compassion Granddaughter

A few weeks ago an old college mate of mine posted the face of this beautiful child on Facebook with a brief description of her. Her name is Estefani. She is three years old and the child of a single mother in Bolivia. She likes to play hide and seek and play with dolls. I can't help it, I find her captivating. Kees, my college mate, has been working with a group called Compassion International since he left college, and finds sponsors for children living in poverty. Something just called me to her right away and 19 minutes after Kees posted her picture, I became her sponsor. Sponsorship will allow her to go to school, eat healthy meals, get medical attention and play with other children in a safe environment. The program is operated through the local church that Estefani attends with her family. Yesterday I received my sponsorship packet for her and now I'm really excited. Finally, I have a granddaughter! If you would like to know more about Compassion International please visit their web page; compassion.com

Moon River and Me

It Takes One to Learn

It started when her new Android phone wouldn't charge. She called the cell company and they sent her a new battery. Later I heard that she got the new battery, but the phone still wasn't working. So she called the cell company again and they sent her a new phone. She got the new phone yesterday. She loved it. To celebrate, she invited a few friends over. But some of those friends invited other friends who invited friends of their own. The friends of friends friends didn't stay around long, but after they were gone it was discovered that there were three phones missing. After checking, she discovered that her credit card was also missing. The campus police were called and I must say, I have a whole new respect for the security of her dorm situation. Everyone must pass through campus police security screening. They have to be signed in by a dorm resident and show government issued ID, and have their picture made for a pass. No one gets into the building undocumented. So they have pictures and names for the friends friends who left early. They know who everyone who was in her apartment is. And since the friends friends are known to be students at another state run university, well, they have jurisdiction. And they are taking it personally. I am impressed, but it doesn't make picking her up any easier. It is truly easier to get on an Army base than getting into that dorm.

Not having heard from her, I texted her asking if she'd gotten the phone. She didn't answer. Later, I saw that she was on Skype, so I IM'ed her asking about the phone. She told me that it had come in, but then had been stolen. So here she is, in  a dorm with no meal plan because they all have kitchens, with no access to her money to buy food and no way to communicate if she needs to. Getting her money and food and a new phone shouldn't be that much of a problem. But once again, I'm seeing my bank account drained. That's OK. Things will be tighter than expected, but tight doesn't last. The real problem is that she is so stressed, and once again is spilling it on to me in down town rush hour traffic, in the worst city commute in the country. But I managed to give her some cash, go to three stores to find a phone for her and get her to her favorite restaurant. Things should be looking up, right? She tried to activate the phone. The phone told her that she needed to go online to activate the phone. Not a problem, the restaurant has WiFi. I handed her my netbook. She went online and was told that her plan wouldn't work with that phone. I handed her my debit card and told her to change plans. She was about to cry with stress. She asked if I was sure, I told her that she had to have a phone, it wasn't safe to live there without one. She changed the plan and paid for a new one, then tried to activate the phone. She was told there was a problem and she needed to call the cell company. By this time she was at about 110% anxiety. I pulled up the cell company number from my contacts list on my phone and handed it to her and told her to call. It became quickly apparent that she was overwhelmed and shutting down. It wasn't going to happen, but I hadn't gotten this far and spent all this money to leave with her still having no phone. So I took both phones outside and called the company myself. The advisor on the other end was so very helpful. This is the same company that I'd cursed a year ago in this post. They have really changed their tune. I took a working cell phone back in to her, but she was still stressed to the max. We ate a wonderful dinner and I took her home.

She grew up in countryburbia...you know, the out lying suburbs of a major city. The cow pasture is across the street from our house, but the corner where Publix, Kroger, Walmart and Aldi are is 2 miles away. We can walk to the nearest restaurant. And we can  go to the mall without traveling more than 5 miles. Still, we go to church with our neighbors and we don't feel overly compelled to lock our doors. Yes, there are gangs here, but they consist of the spoiled brats of VP's who pretend they are "hanging with their homies" and live in $500K mini mansions in country clubs. We live on the other side of the tracks. What does she know about protecting herself from strangers? Well she does now. She knows that when friends invite friend gang members over your phone is best off spending quality time with your butt cheek and your wallet along with anything else of value needs to be locked in your room. Only walk around in groups and always be aware of what is around you. It only takes one time to learn. At least this time it was only at the expense of two pieces of plastic that she could quickly and easily deactivate. But the real victim here I guess was me. Once again I'm picking up the pieces for her; trying to cover the damage of other peoples sin. I guess God will have to cover the damage for me.

Burning Out

This morning I stood peering in the refrigerator staring at the food. If I get this, it won't be enough protein, but if I add that with it there will be more protein, but now it's over the carb count and I will go over the calorie count....It was hopeless. I finally grabbed the eggs, sausage, cheese and yogurt, but I left the fruit. At lunch I stared into my pantry drawer in my cube and did the same thing. If I eat the whole container of soup, I should only eat half the tuna sandwich, but that won't be enough protein, maybe I should only eat the tuna and not the bread. Or maybe it would be better to eat the tuna sandwich, but only half the soup. If I have the yogurt for snack, I should add pumpkin seeds or I won't have enough protein and I'm low on calories for this time of day. I am going through this at every meal and it's beginning to be a serious problem for me. Sometimes I just don't want to eat because I tired of having to work so hard to keep it all balanced. I love it when I get the test results back and my cholesterol and triglyceride levels and my A1c are spot on, but I tell you, this is hard work. I get discouraged when all the skinny girls are hovering around the bowl  on the front counter where they are selling miniature chocolate bars to raise funds for United Way. I get resentful that they get away with eating whatever they want, that they can take the elevator down one level and not feel guilty that they had just passed on easy exercise. I haven't even had diabetes that very long and I really wish it would just go away. When the nurse says, "If you'd only lose 5 to 10 pounds you you can reverse this and go off the medicines" I want to snype back, "yeah, well that was 40 pounds ago. I wonder why it didn't work." I am honestly just tired of it.

Ok, pity party over. Time to pick it back up and get back to work.

Royalty in the Waffle House

I haven't talked about my genealogy hobby much, mostly because I honestly didn't think that it amounted to more than elaborately researched pulp fiction.  But Lizzie is taking a course in human genetics this semester and as part of that class had a mitochondrial dna test done. I saw the results for the first time on Thursday night. It's going to take me figuring out a lot of technical things that I don't yet understand to fully get the impact of what the test is telling us, but what I have figured out so far is exciting. One of the matching people who has also taken the test and who is a male matches through the y-chromosome to the line of Calverts who founded the colony of Maryland, and the common ancestors that we share include my great grandparents. What is more exciting is that through the y-chromosome database, I was able to verify that my genealogy is correct to the Lord Barron of Baltimore. My pulp fiction isn't so much fiction after all. Cool, this looking good. Since the Calvert line I came from pretty much holed up in one small area of Alabama since the signing of the Declaration of Independence, it will be easy to go find paper copies of the lineage and maybe even get some of the stories. I've been thinking about going there for a few days to see if I could find evidence of LQTS in anyone earlier than my great grandfather. Not really important, but with so many aunts and uncles as well as  my father and brother dying of it, I'd just like to know.

So hey, I descend from royalty. It still doesn't change the fact that I grew up in a 4 bedroom ranch house in Brookhaven. Oh well, no tiaras for me.