I wasn't supposed to be working today. The phone rang at 7:15 this morning and I awoke to the news that someone scheduled to work would not be able to come in during the day shift. Part of being a manager is that you sometimes have to patch up a hole like that yourself. I don't like that aspect of my job, but I did say, "Yes," when it was offered to me, so...tag, I'm it.
*Sigh*
I also made the final decision about camp this year. It's a no-go. My triumph over the thyroid cancer pretty much ate up the treasury for vacations this year, so a whole lot of travel is out of the question. I'll set my sights on next year and hope for the best.
In terms of my health, I can only hope the last shoe has dropped. I'm still waiting for the hormones to adjust and work the way they are supposed to. Days go fairly well until mid-afternoon. Then I tend to hit the wall rather suddenly. I go in for a blood test this week, and if my levels are still out of whack, I will consider switching to the brand name product. My doctor tells me that patients tend to do better on the name brand than they do on the generic equivalent. At three times the cost, it had better work.
In July, we will check in on the kidneys to see if they are fomenting mischief. I continue to make stones, but so far, they have made their own way out without causing much pain - a situation I can live with if I have to.
But enough grousing. Ponies in the Park will be happening again this year! That hasn't happened since May of 2008 and it was so much fun. Gathering the stares of the general public - especially in New York City - is always entertaining on my side of the blinders. "Guerrilla Theater" my Mistress calls it. Whatever it is, proudly pulling the cart with Stormy beside me can only be described as a slice of heaven.
Now the praying starts for good weather. After the disaster of last summer, I think we deserve a break. A summer of temperatures in the mid to high 70's would suit me just fine, thank you. Plenty of sunshine with appropriate amounts of rain to keep the grass green will be in order. Ponies like green grass. It's great fun to roll in.
I ache for the chance to do just that!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Update
I got the news I have been waiting for. The labs look good, the scan looks good. I'm clean. It's done.
We will check things annually just to be sure, but for now, it's over.
And I want to celebrate :) So...
I'm off to CT tomorrow to play pony until I drop! Given some of the people I'll be playing with, that may not take long, but I will certainly give it all I've got.
We will check things annually just to be sure, but for now, it's over.
And I want to celebrate :) So...
I'm off to CT tomorrow to play pony until I drop! Given some of the people I'll be playing with, that may not take long, but I will certainly give it all I've got.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Glow Little Glow Worm...
The pill went down very easily this morning.
It was a black capsule a little smaller than the vitamin I take each morning. There was little fanfare beyond the shield container the technician carried it in. The pill itself was in the bottom of a small plastic tube. I picked up the tube and a small cup of water, tipped the tube into my mouth and then drank the water. That was it.
That was a good thing. If I had had to do anything more complicated than that, it would have been very difficult. I have walked the Earth like a zombie for the last couple of days due to the preparatory medication I received. Hormones are a complicated issue. In this case, medication was given to raise one hormone level so that any stray thyroid cells still clinging to life in my body would be stimulated to absorb the radioactive iodine I swallowed. They would then find life impossible to cling to any longer. Trouble is, raising that particular hormone level causes fatigue. In my case, in spades. And it turns out that my own endogenous supply of that particular hormone is through the roof for some reason. The normal level ranges from 0.3 to 3. You are considered hypothyroid if your level rises above 3. Mine was 11 last Friday despite daily medication, which is supposed to suppress it. The doctor's office called today to say that they are increasing the dose of my daily medication as a result.
Damn. I just got that prescription refilled yesterday. Oh well, that's what adjusting hormone levels is about. And the stuff is pretty cheap as medicines go. And at least I know it's not just my imagination.
So now I sit here irradiating my environment, a walking, talking hot zone for the next three days. Fortunately, there is little danger to my computer unless I vomit, pee or sweat profusely on it. So I can remain connected.
Right now, a nap seems in order.
It was a black capsule a little smaller than the vitamin I take each morning. There was little fanfare beyond the shield container the technician carried it in. The pill itself was in the bottom of a small plastic tube. I picked up the tube and a small cup of water, tipped the tube into my mouth and then drank the water. That was it.
That was a good thing. If I had had to do anything more complicated than that, it would have been very difficult. I have walked the Earth like a zombie for the last couple of days due to the preparatory medication I received. Hormones are a complicated issue. In this case, medication was given to raise one hormone level so that any stray thyroid cells still clinging to life in my body would be stimulated to absorb the radioactive iodine I swallowed. They would then find life impossible to cling to any longer. Trouble is, raising that particular hormone level causes fatigue. In my case, in spades. And it turns out that my own endogenous supply of that particular hormone is through the roof for some reason. The normal level ranges from 0.3 to 3. You are considered hypothyroid if your level rises above 3. Mine was 11 last Friday despite daily medication, which is supposed to suppress it. The doctor's office called today to say that they are increasing the dose of my daily medication as a result.
Damn. I just got that prescription refilled yesterday. Oh well, that's what adjusting hormone levels is about. And the stuff is pretty cheap as medicines go. And at least I know it's not just my imagination.
So now I sit here irradiating my environment, a walking, talking hot zone for the next three days. Fortunately, there is little danger to my computer unless I vomit, pee or sweat profusely on it. So I can remain connected.
Right now, a nap seems in order.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Treatment??
Oh yeah...I left that little detail out, didn't I?
Yes, treatment. If you recall, I mentioned that something beyond the thyroid surgery might be necessary. Well, it turns out that it is necessary. No doubt about it.
I got a call from my doctor to discuss the pathology report on my now defunct thyroid. She was stunned by what the report said. It turns out that I had not two, but four tumors and all of them were malignant. None of them were very big, but apparently so many in one thyroid is not at all common. In addition, there was evidence of extension (meaning spread) that made it impossible for them to rule out the possibility that the cancer had gotten into my neck.
So here is the score. I am a male of almost 51 years with a multi-focal cancer of the thyroid. You can stop right there and send in the troops with guns blazing. That's enough to warrant further testing and treatment.
That means radioactive iodine. Wait until you hear how that goes. It should be interesting. My cat will have to move out for a few days so that I don't poison her. Nobody can get within 7 feet of me for that same time period lest they suffer exposure to gamma radiation. It would be a logistical nightmare if I had other people living at home with me, but as it is, it should be pretty easy to deal with. I'm no stranger to isolation.
I live in Maine, after all, and it's winter!
More later. With any luck, I'll actually have something about pony play to write soon. The Winter Flea is coming up, and I am planning on being there. Right now, I'm angling to make sure this treatment thing is out of the way before then.
Goals are a good thing.
Yes, treatment. If you recall, I mentioned that something beyond the thyroid surgery might be necessary. Well, it turns out that it is necessary. No doubt about it.
I got a call from my doctor to discuss the pathology report on my now defunct thyroid. She was stunned by what the report said. It turns out that I had not two, but four tumors and all of them were malignant. None of them were very big, but apparently so many in one thyroid is not at all common. In addition, there was evidence of extension (meaning spread) that made it impossible for them to rule out the possibility that the cancer had gotten into my neck.
So here is the score. I am a male of almost 51 years with a multi-focal cancer of the thyroid. You can stop right there and send in the troops with guns blazing. That's enough to warrant further testing and treatment.
That means radioactive iodine. Wait until you hear how that goes. It should be interesting. My cat will have to move out for a few days so that I don't poison her. Nobody can get within 7 feet of me for that same time period lest they suffer exposure to gamma radiation. It would be a logistical nightmare if I had other people living at home with me, but as it is, it should be pretty easy to deal with. I'm no stranger to isolation.
I live in Maine, after all, and it's winter!
More later. With any luck, I'll actually have something about pony play to write soon. The Winter Flea is coming up, and I am planning on being there. Right now, I'm angling to make sure this treatment thing is out of the way before then.
Goals are a good thing.
Thoughts for the Weekend
I do hope I can get into my driveway when I get home today. No peace for the wicked - or for those who work in the emergency business.
It is supposed to snow all weekend so I have decided to take a positive approach. I will be home and pretty much curled up with the cat for both days. Although I usually enjoy breakfast out on Saturday morning, that won't be possible tomorrow as I am now on a low iodine diet pending my treatment.
If you have never been on a low iodine diet, it's a trip. No dairy, no canned goods, no soy products other than soy lecithin, nothing from the sea including sea salt, restricted meat intake, restricted grain intake, nothing with red dye #3, no commercially baked goods, no restaurant food, no pre-packaged food, and so on. You really have to read labels. Basically, you have to cook everything from scratch, and I do mean everything.
That's not a bad thing, though. Some serious shopping and a little time on one's hands can put a dent in this. I already have a freezer full of low iodine food and will spend most of this weekend putting more of it together. I will bake bread, prepare chili and corn bread, make chicken soup (I made the stock over the last two days) and probably produce another batch of pasta sauce in the slow cooker my sister bought me for Christmas.
That ought to make the house smell like someplace I'd like to be.
Other than bread, baked goods are something of a challenge. Egg yolks are off limits, so making a muffin that is not rubbery can be difficult. Most egg substitutes are off limits because they contain either salt, soy or whey proteins. For cookies, the only shortening that can be used is Spectrum (available at John Edwards), which is a palm oil shortening - and costs about $7 a tub. I guess that's one way to keep to the lower calorie side of things. Also, I am learning to substitute Splenda for sugar in baking - a fraught process for certain.
You learn a lot about the foods you eat when you have to be this careful and I'm glad this diet will only be necessary for a few weeks each year. It will be needed in preparation for annual iodine uptake scans for the next few years as we watch to make certain that the cancer does not start up again. You learn where to find the things that you thought were common (like tortillas that are actually made from corn flour) but turn out not to be, really. You learn how much salt the average breakfast cereal contains (any salt puts a cereal in the 'no eat' zone). You find out exactly which brands of granola (yes, I eat that) are ok in this situation and which are best left alone. And it doesn't hurt to have a little - ok, a lot - of help from the low iodine cookbook that I got for free online. It's times like this, though, when I wish my kitchen wasn't quite so small.
Still, I shall prevail, and it will be fun.
It is supposed to snow all weekend so I have decided to take a positive approach. I will be home and pretty much curled up with the cat for both days. Although I usually enjoy breakfast out on Saturday morning, that won't be possible tomorrow as I am now on a low iodine diet pending my treatment.
If you have never been on a low iodine diet, it's a trip. No dairy, no canned goods, no soy products other than soy lecithin, nothing from the sea including sea salt, restricted meat intake, restricted grain intake, nothing with red dye #3, no commercially baked goods, no restaurant food, no pre-packaged food, and so on. You really have to read labels. Basically, you have to cook everything from scratch, and I do mean everything.
That's not a bad thing, though. Some serious shopping and a little time on one's hands can put a dent in this. I already have a freezer full of low iodine food and will spend most of this weekend putting more of it together. I will bake bread, prepare chili and corn bread, make chicken soup (I made the stock over the last two days) and probably produce another batch of pasta sauce in the slow cooker my sister bought me for Christmas.
That ought to make the house smell like someplace I'd like to be.
Other than bread, baked goods are something of a challenge. Egg yolks are off limits, so making a muffin that is not rubbery can be difficult. Most egg substitutes are off limits because they contain either salt, soy or whey proteins. For cookies, the only shortening that can be used is Spectrum (available at John Edwards), which is a palm oil shortening - and costs about $7 a tub. I guess that's one way to keep to the lower calorie side of things. Also, I am learning to substitute Splenda for sugar in baking - a fraught process for certain.
You learn a lot about the foods you eat when you have to be this careful and I'm glad this diet will only be necessary for a few weeks each year. It will be needed in preparation for annual iodine uptake scans for the next few years as we watch to make certain that the cancer does not start up again. You learn where to find the things that you thought were common (like tortillas that are actually made from corn flour) but turn out not to be, really. You learn how much salt the average breakfast cereal contains (any salt puts a cereal in the 'no eat' zone). You find out exactly which brands of granola (yes, I eat that) are ok in this situation and which are best left alone. And it doesn't hurt to have a little - ok, a lot - of help from the low iodine cookbook that I got for free online. It's times like this, though, when I wish my kitchen wasn't quite so small.
Still, I shall prevail, and it will be fun.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Winter Flea 2009
The 2009 Winter Fetish Fair Fleamarket was somewhat different for a few reasons. I wish I could say a pony's life is all sunshine and smiles, but that's not the case even in a fantasy world. There would be some surprises this time around, and none of them would be happy.
You have to hand it to NELA. They put on a great event. But it seems that the powers that rule over the Providence Convention Center decided not to extend an invitation to the Flea for this year. Rumors flew over the reason, including one particularly alarming one that said it was all the fault of the ponies. Remember the commotion about ponies walking around in the convention center last time? Well...
The rumors were not true. A question or two directed at some NELA folks quickly turned up the fact that someone high up in the rulership of the convention center didn't like what he or she saw in 2008 and didn't want us back.
Well!
The Westin was a little more reasonable. Not only did they want us back, but they were willing to turn the entire two-tower building over to us for the Flea.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that, due to the unavoidable reduction in floor space that this would cause, there would be no floor space for a pony paddock. Not only that, but we would be restricted in our roaming to the third and fourth floors. Well, ok. The map of the facility sure made it look as though that would still be pretty good. Of course, the map doesn't include the crush of humanity in its illustrations, so it's not easy to know for certain.
Because it would not be possible to use the convention center, all of the vendors would have to be located in the Westin. In case you have never been to the Winter FFF, there are LOTS of vendors - I mean, it's a fleamarket, right? They were located on the second, third and fourth floors.. On the second and third floors, they used the ballrooms. on the third and fourth floors, they used guest rooms. And they needed every square inch.
So with no open space for a paddock, the first floor ballrooms earmarked for classes and demonstrations, and not much left over, the ponies were allocated the third floor coat room.
Yup, you read that right. The coat room. I mean really, it was about all that was left. What else was there to do? And at least that meant we had a home base to operate from. We could get it locked up at night and keep tack and other equipment there without fear for its safety.
But the smaller floor space also meant that we would not be able to use those great stalls that we had made for the previous year's Flea. it also meant that we wouldn't have any space for general romping other than the corridors and function rooms - already full of vendors and visitors.
This was definitely going to be a grin-and-bear-it event. No problem. We're used to that.
All of this we knew before heading to Providence, of course, so we had the time to get ourselves adjusted and ready to face whatever challenge greeted us on arrival.
By this time, I knew about the whole kidney stone problem. I had had my attack about a week before and seen a urologist for a consult. We knew things were not good and could get a lot worse in a hurry and without warning. I could not drive to Mistress' house until Friday morning because I had to have a CT scan first thing that day. A quick trip to the hospital for that, and I was on the road with strict instructions to go to the closest hospital if anything at all went wrong.
I arrived at Mistress' house on Friday in the late morning. We planned to load the van and head down in the afternoon as we would not have access to the hotel much earlier than that anyway. Without all the setup that we had the year before, there really was no need to rush.
Good thing, too. Boston on a Friday afternoon is pretty harsh. It took us as much time to get out of the city as it did to make the rest of the trip to Rhode Island! And this is with Mistress, who knows every possible way through and around Boston that you could imagine.
The trip was uneventful except for the second nasty surprise of the weekend. Mistress told me that for a number of reasons, She would not be going to Camp Crucible this year.
Now, up to this time, I had not gone anywhere or played pony with anyone unless Mistress was present or close by. So when She said She could not go to Camp, I was nothing short of crushed. I had been obsessing non-stop about going to Camp ever since May of 2008, when I went for the first time. All I could think about every day was how I was going to get the time off and save up the money to go again. Those issues were dealt with by this time, but it had never occurred to me that Mistress would not be going.
This news cast a pall over the rest of the weekend, but Mistress has a pretty firm policy on moping, so that was not allowed. Still, it was one of those things that I kept remembering over and over and that seemed to sober me up just when I didn't need sobering.
There's this thing about what you know you can do and what you don't know you can do. It sets up a conflict inside that will eat at you until you do something about it. I knew I could make it to Camp this year but I had no idea if that would be possible in 2010. It's just not possible to plan that far ahead no matter how clear your intentions may be. So I screwed up the nerve and asked Mistress if I might keep my own options open with regard to Camp. I wanted to talk to Stormy and see how he felt - once Mistress told him Her news. To my relief, She gave me permission to go. That took some of the edge off. But between this and the kidney stones, 2009 was not off to a good start.
We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon and checked in. Once that was done, Mistress, Stormy and I started hauling equipment from the van up to the ersatz paddock on the third floor. No matter how you split the atom, ponies and their handlers do not travel lightly. There was a lot to carry and it had to go a substantial distance, often involving stairs. This is where NELA scored another high five for me. There were lots of volunteer helpers who would often take the load right out of my hands and carry it for me. Nice!
We got the room all set up in good time and then began the process of sniffing out dinner. That wasn't difficult. The mall was still there, and to our delight, the Indian take out place was still there. That pretty much took care of food for the weekend as far as I was concerned. Well, that and the coffee nook on the second floor of the Westin. It was at the take out place that Mistress gave Stormy the news about Camp. He looked equally shaken, and the two of us spent a lot of private time talking about it. We both decided that going to Camp would be good for us because there were plenty of people going that we trusted and that Mistress would approve of. Still, the pall never quite lifted from the weekend. Everything got just a little weirder from then on.
The two days fo the Flea went somewhat uneventfully. Stormy and I did a lot of wandering about, a little cart work, some reins work and a whole lot of standing around. Not much else, though. Mistress had Her hands full with inquiring minds that wanted to know about pony play. We were not scheduled to do a demo as we had the last time, so we never really got much space to work in. Over all, it was a long way to travel and a lot of money to spend so that we could stand around in a coat closet.
But I'm not bitter about it. NELA had to do a lot with very little. I can't say I didn't have a good time at all, either. There were interesting things to see and watch, there were lots of friends I normally don't get to see, and as short as it was, there was time to spend with Mistress and Stormy.
Given the circumstances, I refrained from doing the sorts of things I normally do when I get bored. It made no sense to make trouble for Mistress given the narrow scope of our activities. That would not have been humorous. It would have been an inconvenience for Her. While I enjoy the occasional high jinks, I am not about making trouble and this was not the time or place.
But there was something beyond my control that made for a few smiles. You see, while the Convention Center did not want the Flea on its premesis, there is apparently some sort of deed that requires the Westin to grant access for the general public wishing to get into the mall. There is a public walkway through the lobby of the Westin from the street and the Convention Center as well. This meant that patrons of the Convention Center and off the street had occasion to come face to face with FFF participants.
That made things interesting when some of those patrons from the Convention Center happened to be little teenie tweenie cheerleaders who looked for all of me to be in the upper elementary schoold age range. These kids were all dolled up in sparkly mini skirts with bare midrifts (many of which had no business being bare, frankly), with big hair, gallons of makeup and glitter on their faces.
What are some parents thinking?
Every effort was made to keep these...innocent...kids from seeing the FFF activities. Curtains were put up in common areas and crowds were expected to remain on their respective sides to avoid contact.
Right. Have you ever seen what happens when you tell kids not to look behind a curtain? There were cheerleaders keeping watch while their friends had a good look. Another told her parents that she thought the ponies were really cool. Tha parent thought that was cute until they got a load of what sort of ponies the kids were talking about.
Hey! Don't blame us. We were on our side of the curtain! Minding our own business and all! We were allowed to go anywhere we wanted at the Flea. Our restriction to the thrid and fourth floors was for pony activities, not casual walking around.
Then there was the food court at the mall. People from the general public, the cheerleading competition and the Flea were intermixing for two nights. There were some funny visuals at odd moments that still stick in my mind.
But in all, it was a somewhat more somber affair than the year before. There was unhappy news and unpleasant surprises enough to keep clouds in the sky. I can only hope that this year's Flea will be a little better. At least Mistress is listed as a presenter this time around. A demo is always fun to do.
You have to hand it to NELA. They put on a great event. But it seems that the powers that rule over the Providence Convention Center decided not to extend an invitation to the Flea for this year. Rumors flew over the reason, including one particularly alarming one that said it was all the fault of the ponies. Remember the commotion about ponies walking around in the convention center last time? Well...
The rumors were not true. A question or two directed at some NELA folks quickly turned up the fact that someone high up in the rulership of the convention center didn't like what he or she saw in 2008 and didn't want us back.
Well!
The Westin was a little more reasonable. Not only did they want us back, but they were willing to turn the entire two-tower building over to us for the Flea.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that, due to the unavoidable reduction in floor space that this would cause, there would be no floor space for a pony paddock. Not only that, but we would be restricted in our roaming to the third and fourth floors. Well, ok. The map of the facility sure made it look as though that would still be pretty good. Of course, the map doesn't include the crush of humanity in its illustrations, so it's not easy to know for certain.
Because it would not be possible to use the convention center, all of the vendors would have to be located in the Westin. In case you have never been to the Winter FFF, there are LOTS of vendors - I mean, it's a fleamarket, right? They were located on the second, third and fourth floors.. On the second and third floors, they used the ballrooms. on the third and fourth floors, they used guest rooms. And they needed every square inch.
So with no open space for a paddock, the first floor ballrooms earmarked for classes and demonstrations, and not much left over, the ponies were allocated the third floor coat room.
Yup, you read that right. The coat room. I mean really, it was about all that was left. What else was there to do? And at least that meant we had a home base to operate from. We could get it locked up at night and keep tack and other equipment there without fear for its safety.
But the smaller floor space also meant that we would not be able to use those great stalls that we had made for the previous year's Flea. it also meant that we wouldn't have any space for general romping other than the corridors and function rooms - already full of vendors and visitors.
This was definitely going to be a grin-and-bear-it event. No problem. We're used to that.
All of this we knew before heading to Providence, of course, so we had the time to get ourselves adjusted and ready to face whatever challenge greeted us on arrival.
By this time, I knew about the whole kidney stone problem. I had had my attack about a week before and seen a urologist for a consult. We knew things were not good and could get a lot worse in a hurry and without warning. I could not drive to Mistress' house until Friday morning because I had to have a CT scan first thing that day. A quick trip to the hospital for that, and I was on the road with strict instructions to go to the closest hospital if anything at all went wrong.
I arrived at Mistress' house on Friday in the late morning. We planned to load the van and head down in the afternoon as we would not have access to the hotel much earlier than that anyway. Without all the setup that we had the year before, there really was no need to rush.
Good thing, too. Boston on a Friday afternoon is pretty harsh. It took us as much time to get out of the city as it did to make the rest of the trip to Rhode Island! And this is with Mistress, who knows every possible way through and around Boston that you could imagine.
The trip was uneventful except for the second nasty surprise of the weekend. Mistress told me that for a number of reasons, She would not be going to Camp Crucible this year.
Now, up to this time, I had not gone anywhere or played pony with anyone unless Mistress was present or close by. So when She said She could not go to Camp, I was nothing short of crushed. I had been obsessing non-stop about going to Camp ever since May of 2008, when I went for the first time. All I could think about every day was how I was going to get the time off and save up the money to go again. Those issues were dealt with by this time, but it had never occurred to me that Mistress would not be going.
This news cast a pall over the rest of the weekend, but Mistress has a pretty firm policy on moping, so that was not allowed. Still, it was one of those things that I kept remembering over and over and that seemed to sober me up just when I didn't need sobering.
There's this thing about what you know you can do and what you don't know you can do. It sets up a conflict inside that will eat at you until you do something about it. I knew I could make it to Camp this year but I had no idea if that would be possible in 2010. It's just not possible to plan that far ahead no matter how clear your intentions may be. So I screwed up the nerve and asked Mistress if I might keep my own options open with regard to Camp. I wanted to talk to Stormy and see how he felt - once Mistress told him Her news. To my relief, She gave me permission to go. That took some of the edge off. But between this and the kidney stones, 2009 was not off to a good start.
We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon and checked in. Once that was done, Mistress, Stormy and I started hauling equipment from the van up to the ersatz paddock on the third floor. No matter how you split the atom, ponies and their handlers do not travel lightly. There was a lot to carry and it had to go a substantial distance, often involving stairs. This is where NELA scored another high five for me. There were lots of volunteer helpers who would often take the load right out of my hands and carry it for me. Nice!
We got the room all set up in good time and then began the process of sniffing out dinner. That wasn't difficult. The mall was still there, and to our delight, the Indian take out place was still there. That pretty much took care of food for the weekend as far as I was concerned. Well, that and the coffee nook on the second floor of the Westin. It was at the take out place that Mistress gave Stormy the news about Camp. He looked equally shaken, and the two of us spent a lot of private time talking about it. We both decided that going to Camp would be good for us because there were plenty of people going that we trusted and that Mistress would approve of. Still, the pall never quite lifted from the weekend. Everything got just a little weirder from then on.
The two days fo the Flea went somewhat uneventfully. Stormy and I did a lot of wandering about, a little cart work, some reins work and a whole lot of standing around. Not much else, though. Mistress had Her hands full with inquiring minds that wanted to know about pony play. We were not scheduled to do a demo as we had the last time, so we never really got much space to work in. Over all, it was a long way to travel and a lot of money to spend so that we could stand around in a coat closet.
But I'm not bitter about it. NELA had to do a lot with very little. I can't say I didn't have a good time at all, either. There were interesting things to see and watch, there were lots of friends I normally don't get to see, and as short as it was, there was time to spend with Mistress and Stormy.
Given the circumstances, I refrained from doing the sorts of things I normally do when I get bored. It made no sense to make trouble for Mistress given the narrow scope of our activities. That would not have been humorous. It would have been an inconvenience for Her. While I enjoy the occasional high jinks, I am not about making trouble and this was not the time or place.
But there was something beyond my control that made for a few smiles. You see, while the Convention Center did not want the Flea on its premesis, there is apparently some sort of deed that requires the Westin to grant access for the general public wishing to get into the mall. There is a public walkway through the lobby of the Westin from the street and the Convention Center as well. This meant that patrons of the Convention Center and off the street had occasion to come face to face with FFF participants.
That made things interesting when some of those patrons from the Convention Center happened to be little teenie tweenie cheerleaders who looked for all of me to be in the upper elementary schoold age range. These kids were all dolled up in sparkly mini skirts with bare midrifts (many of which had no business being bare, frankly), with big hair, gallons of makeup and glitter on their faces.
What are some parents thinking?
Every effort was made to keep these...innocent...kids from seeing the FFF activities. Curtains were put up in common areas and crowds were expected to remain on their respective sides to avoid contact.
Right. Have you ever seen what happens when you tell kids not to look behind a curtain? There were cheerleaders keeping watch while their friends had a good look. Another told her parents that she thought the ponies were really cool. Tha parent thought that was cute until they got a load of what sort of ponies the kids were talking about.
Hey! Don't blame us. We were on our side of the curtain! Minding our own business and all! We were allowed to go anywhere we wanted at the Flea. Our restriction to the thrid and fourth floors was for pony activities, not casual walking around.
Then there was the food court at the mall. People from the general public, the cheerleading competition and the Flea were intermixing for two nights. There were some funny visuals at odd moments that still stick in my mind.
But in all, it was a somewhat more somber affair than the year before. There was unhappy news and unpleasant surprises enough to keep clouds in the sky. I can only hope that this year's Flea will be a little better. At least Mistress is listed as a presenter this time around. A demo is always fun to do.
The Year That Was...(continued)
Back in early September I gave you a brief rundown of events in the year that had kept me out of the blogging business. I said I would blog more frequently after that and then pretty much disappeared once again. The reason for that is because the perils and putfalls of Rusty did not end with that chapter. They continued on.
I'm not into making excuses for things, but for crying out loud, someone make it stop! There is no safe word for real life and we generally have to deal with what is handed to us, but one can get to feeling as though his fair share has been had.
So okay, what happened? Well...
If you recall, I had a tooth that gave me some problems. My bit may have played a role and such. I had the new crown for a short while when the tooth broke above the gum line. That necessitated another trip to the dentist. The situation is now under control once and for all, but what happened next is the real nugget here. I got out of the dentist chair - very sore in the mouth, mind you - and headed off to another doctor's appointment.
This one had been set up in April. It was now November 2. Specialists book way ahead. At issue was my blood sugar. It tends to run high at odd times and we wanted to look into that. So a visit with an endocrinologist was in order. She looked at my readings and noted that I have been steady for over 10 years, so there was nothing to worry about and probably wouldn't be for many years to come. We would follow the sugars annually just to make certain. But the diet and exercise program seemed to be doing its job.
Great news! At last!
Then she told me to get up on the table so she could examine me more closely. I sprang from my chair like a gazelle and sat nice and still for her so that she could do her thing.
That's when she found the lumps on my thyroid.
Long story short, it was cancer. It was a very slow-growing sort that posed no immediate threat to life, but it meant that the thyroid would have to go. That happened on December 17 and I am now sitting at home recovering from the surgery.
I am so glad this year doesn't have any more months to it. No telling what it would fork over at this rate.
So this will go down in the history of my life as the year that wouldn't quit sucking. But while that may be true, it is also true that my life still has wonderful people in it. They include Stormy, Mistress and all the wonderful pony folk who make life fun and interesting whenever we can find the time to get together. My family has been a great source of comfort and support, and the people I see on a daily basis have been really great all along.
This isn't over yet. There are tests yet to do and there may be further treatment, but that treatment, if required, is pretty easy to go through and doesn't cause a lot of the things we normally associate with cancer treatment. It's a one-time thing and it's done. Then it will be an annual scan just to be sure for a few years.
People do well with this sort of cancer, but it's really something the way that word plays with your head when it is applied to your body. And then there are the permanent changes...insurance plans for which I will no longer qualify because of the diagnosis; medication that I will have to take for the rest of my life if I don't want to get very sick...
Yeah, life will be different. But this pony will march on and look proud in the process. I am headed for the winter Flea again this year (good gods...I haven't even finished my piece on last year's Flea yet!) and then who knows? I do hope for Camp again. But if I've learned anything from 2009, it's that nothing can be taken for granted.
We are fortunate for everything we have.
I'm not into making excuses for things, but for crying out loud, someone make it stop! There is no safe word for real life and we generally have to deal with what is handed to us, but one can get to feeling as though his fair share has been had.
So okay, what happened? Well...
If you recall, I had a tooth that gave me some problems. My bit may have played a role and such. I had the new crown for a short while when the tooth broke above the gum line. That necessitated another trip to the dentist. The situation is now under control once and for all, but what happened next is the real nugget here. I got out of the dentist chair - very sore in the mouth, mind you - and headed off to another doctor's appointment.
This one had been set up in April. It was now November 2. Specialists book way ahead. At issue was my blood sugar. It tends to run high at odd times and we wanted to look into that. So a visit with an endocrinologist was in order. She looked at my readings and noted that I have been steady for over 10 years, so there was nothing to worry about and probably wouldn't be for many years to come. We would follow the sugars annually just to make certain. But the diet and exercise program seemed to be doing its job.
Great news! At last!
Then she told me to get up on the table so she could examine me more closely. I sprang from my chair like a gazelle and sat nice and still for her so that she could do her thing.
That's when she found the lumps on my thyroid.
Long story short, it was cancer. It was a very slow-growing sort that posed no immediate threat to life, but it meant that the thyroid would have to go. That happened on December 17 and I am now sitting at home recovering from the surgery.
I am so glad this year doesn't have any more months to it. No telling what it would fork over at this rate.
So this will go down in the history of my life as the year that wouldn't quit sucking. But while that may be true, it is also true that my life still has wonderful people in it. They include Stormy, Mistress and all the wonderful pony folk who make life fun and interesting whenever we can find the time to get together. My family has been a great source of comfort and support, and the people I see on a daily basis have been really great all along.
This isn't over yet. There are tests yet to do and there may be further treatment, but that treatment, if required, is pretty easy to go through and doesn't cause a lot of the things we normally associate with cancer treatment. It's a one-time thing and it's done. Then it will be an annual scan just to be sure for a few years.
People do well with this sort of cancer, but it's really something the way that word plays with your head when it is applied to your body. And then there are the permanent changes...insurance plans for which I will no longer qualify because of the diagnosis; medication that I will have to take for the rest of my life if I don't want to get very sick...
Yeah, life will be different. But this pony will march on and look proud in the process. I am headed for the winter Flea again this year (good gods...I haven't even finished my piece on last year's Flea yet!) and then who knows? I do hope for Camp again. But if I've learned anything from 2009, it's that nothing can be taken for granted.
We are fortunate for everything we have.
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