I love this!

Ever see something and know immediately you had to have it? I was clicking around and found a blog called It's The Little Things. I fell in love with this necklace the moment I saw it and ordered one right away. You ever order something and when it comes in the mail - it's even better than you expected? I did! I love this necklace! I know gushing like this makes this sound like a sponsored post or some such thing but it's not. I simply bought something from jewelry designer Lisa Leonard, and I am that pleased so I thought I would pass it on. Especially since there are so many Mom bloggers out there, although you can put anyones names on these tags that you'd like to! Here's some pics of mine, but if you go to her blog she photographs her jewelry much better than I do (with no cat hair), and you can read about her husband and 2 beautiful boys as well.





I really should have asked for this for Christmas, but I just couldn't wait that long!

Oh Lord. Now everybody knows.

Oh. my.

You're Lolita!

by Vladimir Nabokov
Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn't the best and you're not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you've done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

YIKES!

My apologies

For those who may have tried to access my blog yesterday and today, I am sorry. I'm sorry I am so obsessive, impatient, and foolhardy! I have been working on a new header, I wanted it to be something completely different. When it was finished, on my living room floor no less, I took 4 pictures of it and spliced them together with Paint, and uploaded it to photo bucket. Suffice it to say that in trying to remove the other header, I screwed things up.

Thank you thank you thank you to Stavanger from Blogcrowds who saved my blogging butt before when I had trouble getting a 3-column template, when I needed more room in my sidebars and lost a whole side in Internet Explorer, or was it Firefox? He has saved me or given me advice more than a few times now, and I will forever be grateful! This time - I could not even access my blog much less put a new header on it.

I hope you like the new header, the cats around here certainly do!


Jakie and her chubby self enjoying something new on the carpet to lay on. Luckily I had removed the loose beads by this time.


Abby helped me remove the loose beads I had laying on the header. Nice Abby. She's always so helpful like that.
*********
Oh, and in keeping with my tell-all TMI personality, I had my second "special views" mammogram yesterday and waited while the radiologist read the x-ray. The lovely tech who fondled me so gently this time as well as last, came out and told me the doctor said he would like me to come back for an ultrasound. I think tears must have sprung from nowhere, or I lost all color or some other sign of shock because this nice lady was suddenly concerned, almost alarmed, asking if I was okay. "Yes, I'm fine. I have a headache and I have to go to the bank and then get my emissions checked..." What???? I guess I was shocked. But she said "The radiologist knows abnormal when he sees it, and this isn't it. Still - he needs a better view because it is something that wasn't there before." So, now another test. And I wait.

I am so disturbed

I had an experience at a doctor's office recently, unlike any I've ever had before. I actually canceled a second appointment with this doctor because I kept thinking about the first visit in a way that was becoming freakishly nightmarish in my mind. I want this doctor to know why I am not coming back, but I do not want to have a dialog with him about the way the exam was conducted, etc. It is done, I was terribly uncomfortable, and hearing an explanation from that man cannot change that. He has a website with an email address, I plan to email him the link to my blog so he can read just how disturbed I was and am by the whole experience.

Dr. X is a dermatologist. He has a good sized practice as far as I can tell, I know a couple of people who are patients of his. They are okay with him. I made an appointment to have my moles checked. I have always heard that if you have moles it is a good idea to have them checked every now and then, especially if there have been changes to any of them. I haven't had a mole looked at since I was 18 years old and had two removed for purely cosmetic reasons. I figured it would be a good idea seeing as that was 30 years ago, and in the place of one of those moles that was removed I have sprouted a veritable mine-freakin'-field of baby moles. Teeny little things that make me feel a bit creeped out when I run my fingers across that patch of skin. They aren't black or growing that I know of, but is it normal to sprout 25-plus baby moles where you had one removed? Thirty years later? I didn't know the answer to that. I thought it reasonable to check. I also have a few others, one on my arm, two on my chest, that have little black dots, nothing major but still, not a bad thing to have them checked.

The office is well run, pleasant, the gal at the desk was very friendly and nice. I was called in almost right away which I thought was a good thing. The nurse (I assume) came in and asked me a few questions, why was I there, etc. The doctor came in shortly after the nurse left. Now I need to say that I don't recall if the nurse asked me where these moles were that I wanted checked, but regardless, I was not given a gown or paper clothes, or anything like that. Dr X came in, very tall fellow he is, and shook my hand. I was sitting in a regular chair, he rested against the exam table which meant he was fairly towering above me. He asked me a couple of questions, I told him I had moles I wanted looked at, thought it was a good idea, and oh - I have these brown patches on my face. He opened the door and called someone - "Foofie will you come help me please?" Help him with what? And who is Foofie? Foofie came in, a lady in a lab coat so I figure she's a nurse or assistant of some sort. Almost as soon as she closed the door, it opened again and another girl came in, younger, also wearing a lab coat. No one mentioned her name or why she was there. Now there were four of us in this small exam room. I was the only one sitting.

Dr X looked at my face for a second and pronounced it to be melasma. I was expecting that, asked what was the best treatment. He settled back against the exam table again and looking down at me he said "The thing that works best for that is a peel." I imagine he would have told me more about it but I told him I didn't want a peel. He told me he could give me some cream but it would take longer. "I am patient" I told him. He asked the younger girl to get some samples "out of the closet" and she left for a minute. Next he asked where the moles were. At this point I was starting to feel a bit unnerved. I suppose I was expecting to be asked where the moles were, and to be given a gown or something to change into. I figured the doctor would come in, look me over, examining any moles he saw, looking at them closely and making notes on some piece of paper with the outline of the human body on it.

That is nowhere close to what he did. He motioned for me to stand up and asked me to turn around. I said "I don't have any moles on my back" but he motioned for me to lift up my shirt. The second girl came back in at this point, as I was lifting my shirt up so the Dr could look at my back. He said something about seeing a bit of an acne rash so I said yeah, I do break out on my back sometimes. He did not suggest anything to do about it. I pulled my shirt down and he turned me around and looked at me as if to say "what's next?" I wanted to scream at him that HE was the doctor, he was supposed to conduct the exam, I wasn't supposed to tell him how to do it! He motioned for me to lift up my shirt again. This time in the front. The door knob rattled like someone else trying to come in so I called out "c'mon in! Everybody else is already here!" The rattling stopped.

Now I don't know about anybody else but I am not fond of standing up wearing jeans that show my belly fat nicely squeezing over the waistband, lifting my shirt to show that, as well as my bra that has obviously seen better days and is barely containing the overgrown boobs I've got these days. It was demeaning, uncomfortable and I just didn't get it. What kind of exam was this? I'd point to a mole and he would say mm-m-m in an almost disinterested way. He would lean forward a bit, but he did not look very closely, nor did he touch them or me. Then he would ask if there were any more. ??? I was so disconcerted by standing there with my "Where the Wild Things Are" tee shirt hiked up to my neck in front of this doctor who seemed to be exuding the attitude of "why are you here?" or something, and two women who were never introduced to me nor was it explained to me why they were even in the room, that I entirely forgot to tell him about one of the moles. If he had done a proper exam he would have seen it because it was quite close to the others except that the way I was holding my shirt up, the material would have been blocking that particular mole.

Never once did he say "oh that one looks fine" or "this one has a little discoloration but nothing to worry about". All he said was mm-m-m. And he might as well have said - next! Show me your next boring run-of-the-mill mole. At the last minute I remembered and told him (embarrassingly enough) that I had dry patches on my nipples that my primary physician had given me a cream for it, but he had never looked at them. Dr X just looked at me and nodded. Apparently nobody wants to look at my nipples! Fine! You might like my nipples but you'll never get the chance now!!!!

I showed him the minefield of baby moles on my chest and he just nodded again and said mm-m-m. When I looked at him incredulously and said something entirely lame like "but they feel awful" he said "well, we could laser them off I suppose.." An obviously unnecessary procedure, he was saying. I should mention here that I am not sure he said "laser" them off, I was mortified by then so he could have said jackhammer or sandpaper for all I know. I just know he was humoring me.

At some point I realized that one of the gals in the room had handed me two small tubes for my face so I held out my hand and showed them to the ladies and asked about them. "Are there instructions?" They were samples so I knew they didn't come with an insert or anything. My question was met with silence, surprise even, and I had to explain. "I mean, once a day? Twice? Wear under makeup, or only at bedtime?" "Oh! Yes, bedtime would be good." That said by the younger of the two. Uh okay, fine. I wasn't sure if she was really certain but nobody disputed her answer so I let it go.

In the end I felt like I needed to feel there was actually a purpose to my visit so I asked how hard it would be to have this mole here by my nose removed? It's a flesh colored mole, I have had it most of my life and I do hate it - but I hadn't been planning on having it removed any time soon. I ended up making an appointment to have just that, done.

Before I left at the point Dr X determined the "exam" was over, he leaned back against the exam table I never even touched, again. And he asked "So would you like to come to the library to hear .............................?" It was a talk he was giving on cosmetic, non surgical options to reduce the effects of aging. Uh no. Thanks. I said "hey, I'm gonna get old, we're all going to get old. I'll deal with it." He laughed and said "sounds like you protest too much to me." So, was that a joke? If he must know - if I had the money I would have a tummy tuck, a boob lift, a face lift and have my eyes done. But I don't have the money and never will so I don't dwell on it. And I did not go to see this doctor for cosmetic reasons. I thought I was doing what I was supposed to do to maintain my health.

I felt like an ass. I don't know if Dr X doesn't do too much old fashioned dermatology anymore, maybe he is more into the cosmetic end of it now, I don't know. But the visit was not what I expected, it was less than thorough and unprofessional. I doubt that Dr X realized he was giving me that impression but as an old boss of mine used to say "perception is reality." And my perception was that it was a careless exam and a waste of my time. I can embarrass myself on my own time without paying someone to do it for me, thank you very much.

I canceled that second appointment, I won't be going back.

****

I know my header is still skewed, I am working on a new one and I am afraid I'll just screw things up if I remove this one without one to replace it. I have been working on this major art project and it's been taking all of my time lately, but hopefully I will manage to get a new header up there in the next couple of days. Maybe a picture of me holding my "Where the Wild Things Are" tee up to my neck? Nah. Been there done that. Argh-h-h.

Not done yet ...

Okay, I have more of the header there but it isn't centered or stretched the way I need it - and I'm still not sure if I'll keep it!
Stavanger from Blogcrowds has been helping me because I really have no idea about HTML. Still - I think it's almost there. :)

S'cuse me?

Don't ya love my new header??? I made it myself and I am SO excited and proud!! Please comment, let me know what you think!!!
This is where you lie to make me feel good. Actually that is not the image I want at the top of my blog, but I am going to leave it there for a day or three until I am able to get some help with it. So, no need to lie, let's just say my header is under construction and I appreciate your patience. :) And your silence. *snort*

Pick on somebody your own size!

I confess I am the worst at listening to my messages. Gone are the days when I would look at the answering machine when I came home, hoping for the blinking light. Gone are the days when I saw that red light on my work phone and immediately picked it up to call my voice mail. I listen, but I must admit it is rarely in a timely manner.

So listening to yesterdays messages at work - today, I found out my doctor's office called, asking me to call them back. Ah, the results of the mammogram. So I call. It is doubtful that anything is wrong but the hospital says they need some better views of the right side. Probably just need a clearer picture, we will drop the order in the mail and you will have it by tomorrow most likely.

Coming home I see the red light blinking on the answering machine and this time it is the hospital, a woman from THE BREAST CENTER (all in caps of course) who really sounds like she has horrible news, asking me to call back during regular business hours. Not the reassuring voice of someone I would pick to call a patient so as not to scare the bejaysus out of them. I'm just sayin'.

One of the girls I work with had this same exact thing happen 2 weeks ago, and all was fine. I'm actually not worried yet, I figure I probably zigged when I should have zagged, and I blurred one of the x-rays. Leave it to me to screw up a mammogram. It was a screening not a test right? But I managed to get it wrong anyway. My bad.

I tell the boyfriend who is more compassionate than the average bear, not sure how he will react.

"The right one?"

I nod.

"That's the smaller one," he says with a slight smile, but looking a bit indignant.

"Yup" I say.

"Why are they picking on the little one?"

I smile. He always knows the right thing to say to make me do that.