Niggling, silent, insidious voices in the back of my mind, please SHUT UP.
I have enough on my plate to worry about without your insinuations, your words of self-doubt. The goals I have set for myself are tough enough as it is, transitioning out of computer support services into the medical field, with no standing college credit.
The goal ("A goal is a dream with a deadline") is to complete AA work at the local community college while working full-time in my current job. If things go the way I've planned, it should take about 4 years. Add in the two years for a BS in "Health Science EMS Management" from George Washington University and I've already killed 6 years... Not to mention, but from my research, in order to be a viable candidate for medical school, I've got to carry at least a 3.75 GPA, which is going to be a "challenge" for me: After all, I've got to support my family, first and foremost. I don't need any "help" in remembering how much of a high bar that I've already set for myself.
Medical school isn't any walk in the park, either, from what I've learned, particularly in the first academic year.
But, dammit, I can do it.
What are you thankful for?
This year, i am thankful for a number of things.
- I am thankful (very, VERY thankful) for a loving and supportive wife. Without her, I would be much less than I am
- I am thankful for our children, no matter how exasperating any of them can be.
- I am thankful for modern psychotropic medications. Depression is a horrible condition to live with, much worse without treatment.
- I'm thankful for my job, even though I don't like it. It provides me the income needed to allow my wife to work outside the home or not, as she chooses. It provides me the income to take classes in order to change careers. It provides me the opportunity to be around my kids on a daily basis, as they grow up. I know who they are and they know who I am. These days, that's one HELL of a luxury
- I'm thankful for our family friends. They don't expect any more of me than I can give. Some days, I can't give anything, other's I can give lots. They're truly good people.
This evening, we were on the other side of town to go to the Big Box Bookstore and get a bite for dinner. After we had finished what we went planning on, we decided to stop in at the Caribou Coffee for a cuppa.
Kristen had her usual drink: cafe au lait in thirds (1/3 coffee, 1/3 steamed milk. 1/3 foam) with their Discovery Blend, which is her favorite of their coffees.
Me, I had a cup of Obsidian, black. I hadn't had it before, and I'm always up to try something new, at least once. Of course, that got me into trouble one night, when I had a chef's selection ("omakase") sushi plate. Found out the hard way that I do not like uni (sea urchin) at all. That's beside the point here, however. Back to the coffee.
I found the Obsidian to be some-what on the insipid side. The mouth-feel of the brew was watery and thin, which is also how I would generally describe the body of the coffee. The flavor profile gave a "round" sensation. The flavor characteristics that I picked up were, again, not very bold, but included hints of cocoa, a bit of spice (more "sweet" spice like clove, nutmeg and cinnamon than "hot" or peppery spice), slightly smoky and just a touch earthy.
There was nothing that I found particularly memorable in the brew, which was a shame. This blend was advertised as having fruit notes (which I found to be distinctly absent) and "a decadent bittersweet chocolate finish" which I was not able to suss out in the cup. Even the aroma was very light, which surprised me from a dark roast. Additionally, the flavor didn't linger in the mouth, but rather was "there and gone" as soon as swallowed.
All this being said, it wasn't a bad cup of coffee. It was just unimpressive and not memorable.
Got my results back from CLEP on Saturday, about the English Comp test that I took a couple of weeks back. Passed the test with a score of 65 (recommended passing score is 50), so I don't have to take English 101.
Now, I just need to try my hand at Sociology and Psychology, to see if I can pass those, too. That would put me a good deal closer to my goal than I am at the moment.
Made a trip into my family doctor this week, to see if he could do anything to help me with my knee. It's been unusually painful for about 3 months now, but been causing me problems for about 10 years or so.
So, I tell him what's going on, what has changed lately (i.e. nothing) to cause the exacerbation in pain, and give him anatomical reference points for where the pain is located (i.e. medial meniscus). He has me lie back and manually flexes my leg into several positions and tries to waggle it side-to-side, which the knee does easily (not what it *should* do).
"Yup, it's the meniscus," says he. "Do some leg-lifts to strengthen the quadracep" he recommends. Can I get a referral to an Ortho specialist? (My insurance requires referrals to see specialists) I've been living with it for a bunch of years and it just recently got worse. I have fantasies about knee surgery, in the hope that it'll stop hurting and I can walk normally.
Nope. Do some exercises. Loose weight. Best thing for it.
Gee, thanks for nothing. I could have saved myself the co-pay and figured that out on my own.
"I'm haunted/By the promises I've made/And others I have broken"
-Haunted
Not self-reviling, not at all, but accepting of her own imperfections and, just maybe, longing for the opportunities lost by making one decision instead of the other. Maybe wishing that she had done the more honorable thing, or known that the other choice would turn out differently.
"You've got some nerve/To come back here/You're not the only one/Who can smell fear!"
- Wild
"Don't you get it dear/You're not the only one who lives on instincts/No I've got instincts of my own"
- Wild
On another level, the whole album feels like a therapy session. She seems to be examining the reasons behind some of her decisions, and owning up to the problems that she caused herself. At the same time, she's taking the reins of her life back from the (undeserving) partner that she surrendered them to in the first place. Finding her own worth, value and strength, and realizing that she is beautiful and worthy of being loved (and maybe even worshiped, a little) in her own right.
Turn around again, though, and the words speak to me, as a little girl's daddy (I have two daughters), of vulnerability and longing for validation, especially after it's "too late"... Reading the liner notes, this album was assembled with bits and pieces of audio tapes of her father that she found after he died. The grown woman still has dreams that any little girl would, wishes she could crawl up onto Daddy's lap. But he's gone, never coming back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then again, maybe I'm just over-analyzing this and it's just good music.
Not for the perverts, but rather for the med-geeks...
Autoflourescence as used in tumor diagnosis, particularly with endometriosis. VERY sexy tech. From what I understand (being male, and all) endometriosis is a HORRID thing to have to live with. This might be extremely beneficial to sufferers.
TOnight, I was watching "Remaking American Medicine" on the local Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) affiliate. The series caught my eye a couple of weeks ago, since I'm looking at the medical field as a preferred change-of-career over the next dozen years or so. It'll take that long for me to get a BS degree and move on to medical school... Anyway, that's not the point.
One of the patients profiled in tonight's episode (PROGRAM 4 - "HAND IN HAND") made my heart ache. She was a 13-year old young lady, diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her treatment included hysterectomy (and, though not stated, probably bilateral/"both side" oophorectomy, which is the surgical removal of ovaries) and chemotherapy. As devastating and life-altering as the diagnosis and treatment were for this young lady, that's not what sucker-punched me.
I have a 13-year old daughter. In the instant that the show stated what the diagnosis was, I couldn't help but imagine my daughter and family having to come to terms with the same thing, God forbid. I can't help but have a prayer for the patient, her family, and all others like her.
How could I not?
Do you remember your first flight? Where did you go? Why?
Submitted by Laurel.
Well, assuming (which is always dangerous) that this refers to airplane trip, the earliest that I actually remember vs. rember being told about was from ORD to DEN to visit my grandparents in Colorado. Not only is this the first trip that I recall myself, but I also flew solo. That is, I was an unaccompanied minor on the trip, which was both scary and exciting all at once. I seem to recall that I also got to view the cockpit, but I could be misremembering...
I have to wonder, since 9/11/01 do airlines in the USA still allow unaccompanied minors? I'd be damned surprised if they were to allow anyone not part of the flight-crew anywhere near the cockpit, these days.
It's said that innocence is the first casualty of war. Such a shame, that.
Recently, a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless out of respect to her privacy) was ruminating on the nature of words spoken between lovers and ( I can only assume) friends as follows:
Is it wrong for me to need the words so much? I know. I DO know. I trust you. I believe you. I've never doubted it, not for a moment.
And still, I ache to hear them. I feel them each and every time - a shock, a jolt that moves through me and wraps around my heart. I treasure them, those words, like pearls and diamonds. Take them out when I'm lonely or sad. I touch them, feel how they are worn smooth and silky from the voices of uncounted multitudes.
Why hoard them when their true beauty lies in the giving?
My response was as follows:
...There is no time. Let me sum up...
Depeche Mode, Enjoy the Silence
For a more solid answer, though, we are conditioned ("trained" if you will) from a young age that we will say the thing that is hurtful, rather than helpful. As we grow up, we are shown that, no matter how loving the intention of our words, they will be interpreted to mean something else entirely. Not only that, but we hope for and (at least, some, at the begining) seek positive response from our companions and superiors. When the reaction we get is "something less than" positive or approving, we shut down that path fairly quickly as a mechanism of self-defence.
Mind you, I'm not justifying or rationalizing either position. My observations of our society have led me to that conclusion, both from personal experience, anecdotal evidence and popular culture. Just watch any sit-com that is a "family" setting and you'll see what I mean.
Try looking for the "little things", the unspoken deeds of affection. Not the BIG ones, the diamonds on birthday/Valentine's day/Xmas/anniversary. Think smaller, every-day scale. Remember the axiom that "Actions speak louder than words" to get a read on true feelings.
Holding hands while walking? Occasional, idle carresses (NON SEXUAL!) while seated beside each other? "please" and "thank yous" exchanged? All good, encouraging signs, particularly if they come without thought.
HTH,
