Wednesday, 25 February 2009

Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Not dead yet...

Today is the first day I have felt at all well, and of course! I overdid (mustn't walk too much, mustn't bend over, mustn't clean or straighten or pick up, or do laundry, or write, or sit up too long...) so after I did all that - I'm pretty wiped out. And I look just horrid! Oh my! I kid you not. I will say I do think the Mastopexy is looking quite successful - happy with that I am, and I have my thirty year old neck back - huzzah! As for the rest... I'll keep you up to date.

Such a story to tell! Think the Wizard of Oz meets Desperate Houswives in 24- with comments by House, yes...


Monday, 16 February 2009

OH well done sir!

Ben Affleck Urges Hope in Eastern Congo
By Paul Chi

Ben Affleck wants us to keep a "glimmer of hope" for the Congo.

The actor, 36, continues his ardent activism with an essay for the current issue of Time about his personal experiences and the ongoing war and displacement in eastern Congo.

Affleck has been traveling to the African country since 2007 to learn firsthand about the devastation and has also made a documentary about the war-torn country's urgent crisis.

In the essay, "A Glimmer of Hope in Africa," Affleck, citing the decades of instability and violence caused by rebel fighters, extremists, and outlaw militia, writes: "In the past 10 years alone, millions have died here, and more die each day as a result of the conflict.

"Most die not from war wounds but from starvation or disease … one in five children in Congo will die before reaching the age of 5."

What he hopes to prevent, Affleck writes, is a feeling of hopelessness or being overwhelmed by the country's problems.

"The nation most in need of investment gets the least by the cruel logic that it is the most broken," he writes. "It is a self-fulfilling prophecy that ultimately fosters indifference in the guise of wisdom."

Starry Event
This Wednesday, Affleck is slated to attend an event to the International Medical Corps, a group that works to help those in the eastern regions of Congo, the Los Angeles Times reports.

The event, which will be held at the House of Blues in West Hollywood, is expected to draw other celebrities as well, including Diane Keaton, Joel Madden, Felicity Huffman, Nicole Richie, Forest Whitaker, Kevin Spacey and Kate Walsh.

uh oh

All my posts have disappeared! Yikes and Quoi?

And away we go…

Here we go lovely readers – the thyroid biopsy was negative, and the breasts scare has turned out to be a tempest in a teacup with a physician more interested in covering her butt legally than in the welfare of her patient; and oh my yes, there are letters going to the Medical Director of the Breast Centre, the Administrator of the Hospital, (wish me luck finding that name and address!) and the local paper. Never you fear on that score!

However (listen up any of you who might think to blow off a frightening but non-definitive medical report) I am sending the films (ALL of them) over to St. Luke’s hospital to Dr. Wynn (via my GYN, Dr. Lynn Hoffman whom I adore for her smarts and she is soooo calm) for a second opinion. I’m not going to reschedule the surgery again as my lovely plastic surgeon, Dr. Jeffrey Friedman, who has seen the films and the reports, agrees with me that all is well and we can proceed.

So tomorrow I go into the hospital at 0600 WITHOUT ANY COFFEE or TEA. I have requested we get to the pre-op medications as soon as possible to insure the health of any medical staff who may have to have physical contact or verbal interaction with me.

It’s a long procedure – in the operating room for around eight hours. I’m looking forward to a nice nap. I understand I can also look forward to some real pain when I wake, but I don’t think I really get to complain too loudly – since I ASKED for it! Oh my. The breast lift and the resection of the abdominal scar and tightening up (four pregnancies – just ask any female) are really for comfort more than vanity; but the face lift – that’s all vanity let’s face (couldn’t help myself) it. It took me a while to give myself permission to be so selfish, but I started my “plastic surgery account” when I was 32 so…

I do want to say that while I’m all for plastic surgery, and I am, I do think one needs to do some serious self examination as to why you are having any un-necessary surgical procedure done. Looking for plastic surgery to change your life, or your luck, or your destiny is not a good idea I think. But I’ve always thought that being pretty is like having a bit more money than you need – it’s not really necessary but it does make life easier and a good deal happier, so I feel like I’m good to go.

Given a choice as to which is more important to me - being smart or being pretty? Smart every time. I’m really counting on my brain to get me through long after the effects of this surgery are gone. But I intend to enjoy every single moment of extended youth this day of procedures gives me. I’ve had a really good time being pretty and I think I’ve been generous and kind with it, so I want a few more years to enjoy and be enjoyed.

I’m very excited and I have decided to write about it just in case it is of use or interest to anyone else. I imagine I shall not feel very much like writing for the first few days post operative, but never fear I shall be back online as soon as I can to let you know how it’s going and if I still feel it was worth it! (She said smiling) Thank you all for your good wishes and support.


Friday, 13 February 2009

very chatty today...

I am feeling very chatty today lovely readers. I'm simply going to go on and on, and perhaps even - on. Read until you are bored, come back later or just wish me well. I shall be adding on pieces all morning I believe - it's so much less expensive than psychiatric therapy and I truthfully have never thought I could trust those people - but that's just ME. I know they do much good for many people.

13 February 2009

A few days ago I received an email “Maya Angelou’s best poem”, and it was grand. Being a Maya Angelou fan, but also an intrepid attempter (not a word but you get it) of always giving my readers the correct facts – I looked up the history of the poem – it follows with a note from the true author. It’s just as good even though Ms. Angelou didn’t write it.

I would add the comment that one can insert “by the time she is 30,40, 50, 60”, keep trying…

30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She's 30
This 1997 Glamour article has become a popular web chain letter, usually titled “Maya Angelou’s Best Poem Ever.” Glamour contributor Pamela Redmond Satran is flattered, but she wrote the list, updating it in 2005.
February 1, 2007
Pamela Redmond Satran

In May of 1997, I wrote this list. I had passed my thirtieth birthday and wanted to tell younger women about the things I really wished I’d had and known by that important milestone. I guess people agreed with what I had to say, because a few years later the list showed up in my e-mail inbox; a friend had forwarded it to me for my reading pleasure, completely unaware that I was the author. After that, every month or two someone would send it to me and I’d immediately hit “reply all” and type, “Hey, that was me! I wrote that for Glamour.” (After a while, I don’t think anyone believed me.) The list became a phenomenon; posted on hundreds of websites, it was attributed to everyone from Jesse Jackson to Maya Angelou to Hillary Clinton. Someone even published it as an anonymously written book. As I read over these lines now, so many of them still seem worth having and knowing—whether you’re 30 or 22 or 75. Being a little older and a little wiser, I’ve plugged in a few new “shoulds.” By all means, add some of your own.
By 30, you should have:
One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.
A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
A purse, a suitcase and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.
A youth you’re content to move beyond.
A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
The realization that you are actually going to have an old age—and some money set aside to help fund it.
An e-mail address, a voice mailbox and a bank account—all of which nobody has access to but you.
A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.
One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill and a black lace bra.
Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.
The belief that you deserve it.
A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.
A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship and all those other facets of life that do get better.
By 30, you should know:
How to fall in love without losing yourself.
How you feel about having kids.
How to quit a job, break up with a man and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
When to try harder and when to walk away.
How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.
The names of: the secretary of state, your great-grandmother and the best tailor in town.
How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.
How to take control of your own birthday.
That you can’t change the length of your calves, the width of your hips or the nature of your parents.
That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.
What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.
That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs or not flossing for very long.
Who you can trust, who you can’t and why you shouldn’t take it personally.
Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.
Why they say life begins at 30.

“Thanks, Crickett. Glad you did the research. If you'd like to use it on your blog, please credit me as the author and include a link to my website, and please also credit Glamour magazine as the original publisher and include a copyright mark for Glamour Magazine (okay I don't know how to do that). Thank you.”

1300hrs local time Houston, usa The Thyroid biopsy is NEGATIVE!!!!!!!!!! Huzzah! One down, one to go...

Thursday, 12 February 2009


This is R rating for some nasty language, so read or not accordingly.

Yesterday after the radiologist at Methodist gets her hands- her name is Dr. Jessica Sheets, but lots of luck finding that anywhere online where you can check without paying for it and then not much data is available, (after MUCH prodding and many phone calls from J), on the film from MA (that took almost a bloody month to arrive) and said, “Well you know I think it’s fine, but with the new digital film and nothing to compare that to (because they weren’t DOING digital mammograms in 2005 you boob!) I won’t say for certain that everything is normal. She needs to have the breasts MRI. This people, is AFTER it has been explained to her that the MRI has to be a last ditch, only if needed to confirm I need surgery to confirm or cut out any growth – cancerous or fibrous.

This was my internal dialogue: “…and then on 10 February you read the fucking film and say, oh I just don’t know anything for certain so she should have the MRI? You have been saying for a month all you needed was the film from 2005 to compare; if you knew then you would want an MRI why didn’t you say so then? They didn’t even begin doing MRIs for this until ****. And have YOU ever had an MRI? Do you have claustrophobia? Did you ONCE ask if the patient, me, does?

I want someone else to review these films, and after all this delay – I want it done today. The MRI you so blithely suggest to a person who is traumatically claustrophobic is not possible without real mental pain because I would have to do it without sedation – would you like to know the really horrid things done to me as a child, or perhaps you would prefer the more recent decades where there were other bad things I'm not going to mention happened – these events left me with a healthy fear of trapped spaces. Sedation won’t work on me because you can’t put me deep enough to safely monitor my respiratory status, and I metabolize drugs at the same rate your fucking Aunt Emma metabolises her tea. Can you see why this is a problem? At all? Did you ask? Once? Compassion anyone or just legal safety?

So I suggest we come up with another alternative. If it’s bad enough to fucking MRI, then why is it not bad enough to biopsy? Make a decision.”

After having this conversation with myself I had a nice cup of tea and decided that I am going over there today and pick up all my films and records – because when I requested VERY NICELY that another one of their radiologist give a second opinion – a second opinion people – something one should get if anyone wants to give you medication, or come at you with a knife, or say you are well or not, and you have that uneasy feeling! A bloody second opinion, Dr. Sheets, I was NOT saying you don’t know what you are doing; I was not impugning your honour nor your ability. Reading films is NOT an exact science. I KNOW that, and hence the request for a second opinion.

You would have thought I had informed the woman my lawyer (a word that strikes fear in the medical community here worse than the imminent threat of Ebola apparently) was going to be paying her a call. “No, none of our other doctors will read your films. You can pick them up at the desk on the seventh floor.”

Well thank you very much for putting me through a month of fear.

I decided to write about all this for four reasons – my wrist is injured and I can’t hit the bag at the gym, and I hope it reminds anyone out there who needs it to go get their mammogram done – and that the medical community needs to ALWAYS BE QUESTIONED. The Lazarus complex is done people, over, caput – heard of the Internet? Doctors are no longer considered all knowing, patient are responsible for being informed about their condition, and DOCTORS ARE REQUIRED TO LISTEN. And so that I don't have to call all my family and friends each time this thing has gone FUBAR.

Now, MY decision which would not be right for everyone, is that after having read the reports (yes I have some medical background I don’t think we’ve covered that) I am going to pick up my data, bring it home; have my thyroid biopsy today, and have a repeat of the mammogram in three months – when they will have LOTS of films to compare. I feel safe in doing this and J agrees. I am going to talk with my GYN in whom I have a lot of faith, and she’s soooo very calm – I love that.

And there I stand. I must go now and prepare for this joyful experience of having someone I don’t know stick a six-foot long needle in my neck and bounce it about. No? Let’s hear what it looks like to YOU if you are the one lying there ☺

Then, if I don’t have thyroid cancer, and let us hope they there is a fast definitive diagnosis or really, J is going to be posting bail; I can spend the weekend enjoying Valentines’ Day and getting ready for my “fun surgery” which was the point.

Thank you for listening lovely readers, and I do have that cheery post coming – I promise.


Wednesday, 11 February 2009

I just don't know what title is appropriate...

Today, another round with the breast center at Methodist and the doctors ( I will be naming names) who are so busy covering their asses from litigation that they won't commit to a diagnosis until ALL - necessary or not - diagnostic procedures are exhausted. I ask you, if the films are bad enough for an MRI is that not indication for a bloody biopsy? Then just do it! All I am asking for today is a SECOND OPINION - that apparently requires so far: the technician, the supervisor of the department ( a verrry nice lady, Dalene), and NOW - the bloody Medical Director. In the end I see myself having to physically go over to the hospital and pick up all my records (which they will charge me for by the by - "Are we sending them to another physician for you? That would be free."
"No, they are my records and I want them."
"Then we have to charge you." At the neurologist office for TWO PAGES of notes, it was $25.00 American! Explain that to me!

THen I shall have to trudge about to find another radiologist who will charge me, to read them again! I'm so very tired.

Tomorrow is the Thyroid Biopsy and I tell you straight I'm quite terrified and I have shed more tears these past few days than over the past few years. And I don't like it.

Perhaps you should return in a couple of days. I have an idea for a cheery post and I'm going to write it!


Monday, 9 February 2009

uh oh

Migraine day- back soon.

Sunday, 8 February 2009

Reply comment to Ian

I'm posting my “reply” to two of Ian’s posts here because he got me all fired up and I just can’t see leaving this much material for his fans to roll through – so you get it my lovely readers, because you LIKE my stuff. In order to get the idea of what the devil she’s (that would be me) talking about you must first run over to Ian’s and read not only the first post but the one below – oh go ahead, you know you want to do it!

Yes, poor what's her name – not - (so much publicity - I didn't know she could sing until she gained "too much weight"). I thought she just went to events and dated the quarterback for Dallas. She's only a baby people, lay off.
Albeit I will say, as a woman who for most all of my life, and continuing apparently into my later decades, has had my family and friends saying, "Did you remember to eat today? How much do you weigh now?" (This is my DAUGHTER over the mobile now). And there is NO sympathy if you are a woman who forgets to eat when she's working, or just blissfully happy - so there! Take that whatever percent of the U.S. and Britain that is obese (some horrid number).
It is difficult for me, after years in Africa, India, and the Middle East (please take time to read the links), to conceive of countries where obesity is a national disease! It won't compute in my head.
Here's a diet for you - throw that money you were going to spend on food you don't need into a dish in the kitchen, and then send it to Heifer International (no pun, just my favorite most effective charity). You will be healthier and so will the rest of the planet – albeit all my readers are so beautiful they will put the money in the dish just to be lovely.

I do think I understand the obsession, not so much with the weight issue, but the celebrities, when there is so much fear right now, both politically and economically. In my own way I noticed myself using escapism last night – I am a news junkie. I usually read three books simultaneously because - I just do it that way, but I want to finish “The War Within” however last night I found myself reaching for a nice blow ‘em up in the Fantasy world with R.A. Salvatore’s “The Demon Spirit”. I think all of us seek some escape from the oppressive fear in the world just now – fine as long as we don’t leave our heads in the make-believe sand until we suffocate.

Breakfast? Oh please, I'm an Irish Oatmeal girl all the way; and it amazes me still that after 18 years of serving it up to Q, so is she! And um, you should see my cholesterol numbers! “Yep, yep, yep”, she said grinning ear to ear.

Ian, my love, don't say it's true! I ALWAYS dance and often - that's the true reason for owning an I Pod my sweet handsome man. I don't cook, but boy I can dance in the kitchen - fire up some Etta James, throw in some Bruce Springsteen, and top it off with a little Elmore James, and I'm moving baby. He he. Now let's see you move that handsome body around in some sheer joy! That’s what dancing and indeed singing should be about – sheer joy. No, I don’t sing in public, not one of my talents (sigh) but I can belt it out in my kitchen and shower baby. Make a joyful noise!

I MISS LENNY TOO. My TV IQ is so low that J is embarrassed and makes excuses for me, but I am a "Law and Order" girl, yessiryoubetcha', and I miss Jerry Orbach! What a great actor to watch. I was so lucky to see him on stage when he and I were both very young. “Law and Order” is my substitute for sleeping medication. I’ve seen every episode so many times (and it is so dependable) that I don’t have to actually watch or listen. I use it when I work as well; albeit the blow ‘em up movies work better for that – especially the ones with no real plot – think “The Kingdom” or “SWAT”. That Jamie Fox is such a cutie, and really very talented I think, and Colin Farrell – well he’s Irish.

TRUE WORDS you have spoken: NO ONE has arrived to replace Bogie, Tracy, or MItchum! More's the pity. Albeit I will say that George Clooney has done a fine job making me miss Carey Grant so much less.

And I don't want to know about the private lives of these people!! I can no longer watch any Tom Cruise movies (and I loved the “Mission Impossible” series - all those lovely explosions) – first his ridiculous antics, but that’s fine, the man said he was in love – but then the tirade against Brooke Shields and all other women who have experienced post-partum depression – THE MAN DOES NOT HAVE A UTERUS. If you don’t have a uterus, you do not get to speak to these matters. He did not graduate high school but he is an expert on psychiatry and psychiatric drugs? I don’t care if he is a bloody Druid as long as he does not use his celebrity to do harm, and I think he did harm. And he was mean to Matt Lauer! Who is mean to Matt Lauer?!! How do you even do that?
Then Mel Gibson (oh Kali, it’s so bad I blanked on his name and had to look up “Braveheart”) had to show himself as a bigot and fanatic of the nastiest nature! And I loved the job he did in “Braveheart”, and the fun movies with Danny Glover where they blew shit up and were really funny. So PLEASE if you are a horrid person and an actor, get a better press agent, show some control, or consider becoming a contributing member of the human race and make the planet a nicer place – you poop-heads! Grrrrr. Arghhhhh.

Ian has synesthesia. How cool is that! I see emotions in colours, but wow – numbers! I read somewhere Ian that means you are really brilliant (but we knew that didn’t we?). I, to some extent, hear music in colours as well, but I think that is the nature of the music rather than me.

Ian, love, get. The. Ticket. To. Russia. Now. You MUST go to the Hermitage! It is brilliant. So much Rembrandt as to make your head expand with the sheer beauty of it all! Go! Now. Hurry before Putin won’t let us in without nasty questioning. And just remember (ladies and gents) that incredible collection was put together by the brilliant Catherine during a time when Europe was ‘having some financial difficulties’. Talk about a bargain hunt!

Not an opera fan? Oh mercy I’m a real devotee, but you have other wonderful attributes Ian, and you went once! Well done there. Everyone should attend at least one opera for the experience - you don’t have to go again lovely readers, but you might….

I can’t get on board with you about the chickens! I hate chickens unless they are dead and basted. We had a flock when I was a girl, and it was my job to feed the &*^^%$$## little &&^%$%$. I went barefoot whenever the weather allowed, and sometimes when it did not, and no matter how far away I threw, or jaculated (from my book “The Highly Selective Thesaurus for the Extraordinarily Literate” no really!) the bloody feed, those horrid, nasty, mean, little f***ers pecked my toes! Every bloody time! Every time lovely readers! Really!

My musical talent lies in being an informed and appreciative audience, but I was so proud when at eighteen – Q decided to take up the violin. She has played the clarinet since she was ten or so, but the violin! I was so proud that she would take on such a challenge.

You are right Ian that, “10. I’ve always believed that if I’ve had a romantic interest in somebody that the other person feels the same way about me. In other words, they have given off vibes indicating they are approachable. I still believe from experience that is true about 80 percent of the time.” How could any woman in her right mind resist you? That would just be silly.

As we know, I am very “mystical”, but in a very logical way I think. Astrology, not so much, but String Theory? I’m right there with you chap. And “positive thinking” – oh please, the best nuclear weapon does not have a nano-fraction of the power of positive thinking when applied. I’m right there with you on this one.

Ian! “Borrowed a guy’s wife”? I’m not saying anything. I’m shaking my head, but I’m not talking because I do have some instances of theft in my past – but only from people who were bad.

“19. I don’t trust guys who part their hair down the middle. It shows an inability to commit.” OHMYGODS how brilliant is this statement?! This is one of those, “I wish I had written that.”

So there you have it – my comment to Ian’s posts.

I must go wash my hair as we are attending “A Bronx Tale” this afternoon – review to come of course.


Friday, 6 February 2009

“I’m not dead yet…”

Arghhhhh! What a FUBAR. Since 9 January 2009 (review for those who have not tuned in…) I have been attempting to get a mammogram film (mine) from MA to Texas – it’s a bloody breasts film people not classified data! It is now 6 February (same year amazingly) and “no one” knows where it is – oh the ladies in MA have “sent it right along”, and the women in Texas “can’t find it, haven’t seen it, don’t have it logged in”. I’ve already cancelled surgery once over this not to mention the angst – which is being nicely covered up by the frustration.

Last night, I said (on the advice of smart J.) to say buggger finding the film, and just go in for the MRI now that the respiratory infection is (mostly) gone. On my desk, which granted usually is a mystical experience to anyone but me, I could not find the bloody form! I can tell you exactly what it looked like right down to the post-it taped to the front with the number for scheduling. Nowhere. I’m seriously considering running away back to Africa or Northern India or even Kashmir at this point – somehow that chaos is easier because it’s expected.

Oh poor me! What crap. I watch and read the news and cringe at the hubris I have to complain. The world economic situation is indeed dire and apparently not getting better any time soon or quickly. Thousands of people every day losing their jobs – it is truly frightening.
The politics in Washington D.C. appear to be more important than a solution, and meanwhile Russia is engaging with its neighbours and the world in a smile and knife mode – as in “Oh my yes we are with the U.S. and Europe on any means to improve world economy and ensure peace; But no, you can no longer use the base in Kyrgyzstan to launch offensives in Afghanistan and we’ll just keep Chechnya.”

And how comforting is it that Pakistan has let Abdul Qadeer Khan out of house arrest to wander about and see what other fanatics he can help along with nuclear weapons technology and supplies – well done there.

All in all it makes me put my little irritants and fears into perspective. I will wait to find out if I have anything to actually fear and in the meantime, I will find the bloody form, get the MRI, get the thyroid biopsy (almost as much fun as engaging Putin) and see what is what in my little part of the Universe.

I hope you lovely readers are well and hearty.


Um... do you think it is significant that I found it relaxing to read Vince Flynn last night when I couldn't get my mind to stop long enough to fall asleep?

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee sent me here to a blog, Alright Tit, you MUST visit - go. now.

Later that day, 6 February 2009

Oy vey what a day..

Crimey, I hate crying. Crying is bad for my face, it makes my nose red and it makes me feel helpless. I hate crying. I don’t cry often but I’ve just finished a good fifteen minutes of solid-hand-me-the tissues that followed thirty minutes of hiccupping sobs-trying-to-hold-off-the-flood.

As I told you earlier, following aborted efforts to have my mammogram film from 2005 sent to Texas from Lowell Hospital (yes, you – you bad, bad people) in MA I decided to go ahead with the MRI as the surgery date is looming and I have the thyroid biopsy to look forward to (SO NOT) on 12 February.

It took me from 1100hrs this morning (and this is using their Platinum Service la de da) until bloody 1500hrs this afternoon to get the MRI appointment set at Shylock Tower on Monday at 0900hrs.

THEN they tell me I have to be in the coffin (been there before, don’t, so don’t, like it but I can do it) for an hour – all right I’m not liking that but I’m thinking I can take my prayer beads with me (no metal) and then she tells me I will be face down – oh gods no, can’t do that, not going to happen, oh shit. “Would you like sedation?”

“Oh dear gods yes!”

“Then you have to have someone with you to take you home.”

“Can’t I just go home in a taxi?”


Well people, I don’t have anyone to take me home, as J. will be busy doing that earning the money thing. So now the lower lip is quivering, but I’m still thinking, always thinking and you can come up with a plan A, then plan B, then the FUBAR plan. I may already be in FUBAR people.

So I start thinking – all this can be avoided if only that (*(*&^%$ film from MA was here for the radiologist to compare to the new films. AGAIN I call Lowell Hospital file room to check on the film – the one that “sent it out yesterday FedEx”, “no we haven’t sent it yet, I’ll get it right out today”, and today? “Oh we sent that out a couple of days ago by regular mail.”

Yes, that would be when the full out crying began. I didn’t want to call J and make him listen to this, or make Cath’ (best buddy) listen ONE more time, so I decided to at least make someone responsible and try to prevent it from happening to someone else.

After everyone at the file library (that would be Christine, Laurel, and anyone else who answered the telephone and lied) denied any responsibility, I obtained the name of a supervisor – Ms. Rebecca Uphold, of whom I am not even sure it IS her job, but who has been very reassuring (even if she’s lying). I stopped crying and made a cup of café au lait and decided to write you instead. Ms. Uphold is ‘supposed’ to call me back after she has checked on the status of my film.

So I don’t know what will happen, but I’m done being the effect of this little drama. I’m going to get the bloody film if I have to fly up there, because I am NOT having that MRI unless there is no other choice, and we are not yet there Pilgrim.

And Ms. Oh so nice I hope she gets lucky later Uphold called, she checked by actually going to the file room, and yes Becky the little shits did indeed not FedEx but regular mailed the film, and not until 3 February 2009.

Plan C – start calling the mailroom at Methodist and do an extra round with my prayer beads, reschedule that MRI for Wednesday on the bet that I can beat it with the finding of the film. Aces and eights anyone?

I’m going now to watch a movie where lots of shit blows up – it calms me.