Ill

I'm currently laid low by some kind of insidious cold or flu bug. Nasty little things. And my NeoCitran is making me loopy. Yay for meds!

I received a pair of 4e D&D sourcebooks, the Forgotten Realms ones as part of Christmas (ta, S!) and I've found that reading the FR books while on strong cold meds is NOT a good idea. It's one thing to read about the fabric of reality being torn apart by the death of a goddess; it's quite another to dream it. Oy.

Fortunately, my poor sweet long-suffering sister is taking care of me. I don't think I could be half as recovered without her presence - thanks, sis, for everything!

Now, more of the NeoCitran and William Shirer's Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.

Love languages

I feel loved when...

The Five Love Languages

My Primary Love Languages are probably Quality Time and Physical Touch

My Detailed Results:
Quality Time:	8
Physical Touch:	8
Receiving Gifts:	7
Words of Affirmation:	4
Acts of Service:	3

About this quiz

Unhappiness in relationships is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. It can be helpful to know what language you speak and what language those around you speak.

Tag 3 people so they can find out what their love language is.

Take the Quiz!
Check out the Book

Wow, that's quite a switch from before. Shows you how much someone can change, even in just 2 years. Note: Quality Time + Physical Touch doesn't mean you get to follow me around for hours poking me with a stick. Just so we're clear on that.

When will it end?

I am now a few days past 6 months since I came out of surgery. My aftercare regimen is now far more relaxed but unfortunately, I've developed yet more complications that's freaking out my surgeon a wee bit - I left a message with his staff and he called me back within 15 minutes. To give you an idea how rare this is, my typical wait time ranges between a day to half a week before he'll respond.

So now I'm on this aggressive treatment plan which includes, among other things, me nuking the surgical area with a blast of Betadine solution everyday. I hate Betadine. It has this indescribably foul sour odour that drives me up the wall - it reminds me of death.

I was rather looking forward to passing the 6 month mark. Due to the new aftercare regimen, I get at least an hour back every morning because I don't have to go do painful medical aftercare. But now I've to worry about whether I'm healing right and whether the bleeding complication will get worse. *sigh* Colour me depressed, worried and unhappy.

Hearing test results (pitch)

"You correctly identified 26 tunes (out of 26) on the Distorted Tunes Test. Congratulations! You have a fine sense of pitch."

The test can be taken here, if you wish to have a go at it: http://www.nidcd.nih.gov/tunetest/

This gives me some level of comfort as I have had some hearing issues lately. Yes, I took the test in a single go with no retries, so what you see is what you get. It also vindicates all the times I've winced when someone sings off-key. Yay for me! :)

S-M-R-T

TV Reviews

Apparently, if you're reading this, you're a Genius. Congratulations - you are among a very select group of people that does not include a particular outgoing 43rd-in-line world leader.

Release

I went out with some friends to a training course that had a social event after it. I've been looking forward to it for a long time and was quite excited to be going.

The training course was amazing. The social afterwards was...breathtaking.

In short, I had fun. Tons of it, as a matter of fact. I still have a silly grin on my face from the memories.

I really should get out more. *sigh*

Hope for the future (part 2)

I met with my primary medical case officer recently and I mentioned the recent research. He smiled and noted that among physicians, the cause for the Condition has been known to be definitively medical in origin for years now. Apparently, the clincher was a comparative study performed on the preserved amniotic fluid of those afflicted vs. unafflicted - there's a very clear and distinct difference in the composition of the fluid that pretty much points a conclusive finger that what has and will happen was charted by biology.

Why is this important? The treatment for the Condition involves quite a number of medications and is a long term treatment plan. Therefore, the opponents of the theory that the Condition has a biological origin claim that the effects of the medications skew the results of any indicator tests or autopsies performed on those with the Condition. However, the amniotic fluid composition predates anything the afflicted individual may have taken to "skew" the results.

It is easier to revile those different from you than to love them. I think it's sad that the overwhelming cases of prejudice and bigotry against folks with the Condition comes from those who believe themselves to be following God.

It took centuries for the church to accept the heliocentric model of the solar system, simply because the leaders at the time cannot accept that we aren't the centre of God's attention. Well, I believe that for us who are afflicted by the Condition that either God made a mistake in our genetic composition...or if the idea of a fallible God disagrees with you, that God made us exactly the way He wanted to.

Hope for the future

Well...I have to say that I'm feeling quite relieved; scientists have recently isolated a DNA variance (a "marker", if you will) that is unique to folks like me who have the Condition. We're not talking crackpot science here, folks - this is a major multi-year joint international study involving a large sample of subjects.

What does this mean? In addition to past findings off autopsies of irregularities in brain structures, it's starting to look pretty conclusive that the Condition has biological origins, not psychological. If so, it means that there's a possibility it can be treated in the future via early screening and gene therapy.

Those of us afflicted have always known that we're not imagining it. Certainly the extent of risks we run to successfully cure it requires very rational planning to succeed - not exactly a characteristic of the insane. And the intense pain involved in treatment plus the exorbitant medical costs serve as a barrier to entry for all but the genuinely afflicted.

I would not wish the Condition on *anyone*. If it turns out that the current generation is the last generation that has to go through the horrors that is the Condition, it would not nearly be soon enough.

Fruitflies like a banana

Wow, in a few hours time, I will be 100 days post-surgery. I'm not sure how to handle that.

Leadership

I've been in the industry for a long time and in the course of those decades, I've seen many leaders, some to emulate, others that serve as a warning to others.

Except that now, I'm a leader.

It's different when I'm managing just one team, or even two. Now, I'm managing teams and products in the low double digits. It's not sustainable and I'm starting to burn furiously. I need to find a way out of this, and soon. However, there is one thing I refuse to let go except perhaps at the very last moment: my responsibility to my people.

I had a meeting recently with my peers and superiors. I'm the only person who referred to those under my leadership as "my teams". Everyone else maintained this arms-length detachment from the people they managed. In fact, one of my bosses shook his head and told me that it sounded strange to him that I should be calling the staff "my teams" or "my people".

Fact: my teams are the only ones NOT pulling regular nights and weekends.
Fact: my teams perform at velocities of at least 0.75.
Fact: I have delivered on every single deadline I've promised thus far either on time or early.

I am not going to comment on the performance of other teams. Let's just say that my teams are much sought after for critical projects due to our proven reliability. I'm proud of them, extremely so.

Lastly, my people are *happy* and loyal. They consider me a part of them, regardless of what department they're in. I'm the one and only manager able to cross all departmental boundaries in the company and be accepted. The one aspect of my relationship that I value the most is trust, which goes both ways: they trust me enough to come to me if they've screwed up, knowing that I'm going to help them instead of judging. Furthermore, they won't hesitate to call me on things they think I'm screwing up and they'll circle the wagons for me.

It took me a long time to get here. And now, it's time to go before I get completely burnt out because relief is not coming; if it were, they wouldn't have put that much responsibilities on the shoulders of a single mid-level manager. It's hard to leave my people because I know they'll get tossed into the meat grinder.

Darn it.

Digging deeper into the crater

Sorry for the dearth of posts lately. I'm starting to heal better now and can generally do my normal activities except for the occasional sharp stab of pain or two.

Heads have been rolling at work and I have a new boss now. I've also gone from managing one team to...well, an absurd number of teams that I can't even count with fingers on both hands. In short, the work situation's going pear-shaped but the upside is that I'm getting tons of experience that I can't get anywhere else. I'm weighing riding the job into the ground just to get that executive-level experience on my resume. Maybe. We'll see how motivated I am.

The depression's been hitting pretty hard late at night. I'm very sleep-deprived not because I don't get a chance to sleep but because of the nightmares. They're not related to the surgery itself but rather the family troubles afterwards. I'm *this* close to getting some sleep aids from my family doctor. :(

I'm definitely in a mid-life crisis. Spending my nights reading novels or playing games just won't cut it for long. Not really sure what to do anymore.

Rudderless in the Light

As expected, the bout of depression vanished as quickly as it came with the coming of dawn. Some sleep, a good cup of coffee and the laughter of children tend to banish despair quite effectively.

Yes, I'm still rudderless and I still don't have a clue where I'm going. However, I'm going to try not to get too wound up about it. I suspect that life is more of a "journey rather than the destination" type experience and to that end, I've begun exploring previously closed off interests. I do know that my previous trajectory is not right for this new life. I'm also mindful not to lose myself in change, something all too easy to do.

When I became aware of the Condition, I was dreadfully afraid that I didn't actually have the Condition, that it was a mid-life crisis masquerading as the Condition. Again, the irony: now that I'm rid of the Condition, I find myself running right into a mid-life crisis. For folks like me, buying a hot sports car doesn't fix it. For one thing, I haven't a clue how to drive manual transmission. I suppose I'll muddle along. Perhaps a hot new textbook on galactic evolution?

To wit, I'm planning on trying some new experiences and reprioritizing that which was into something yet to be. Not having the medical impediments to hold me back, I've a clearer view of who I am now: a strange perspective given that I'm lost. But at least I know I'm lost. Who I am is something I can't change (again) but where I go and what I do is certainly malleable.

To cite H. Simpson: "That's it! You people have stood in my way long enough. I'm going to Clown College!" :)

Rudderless in the Night

I'm not really prone to depression, or at least I haven't been since I had the Condition taken care of. However, I still run into the occasional bout of deep, dark depression.

Tonight is one of them.

For the past 3 years, I've been struggling with and eventually overcoming the problem that was the Condition; indeed, I have moved heaven and earth to get it fixed. About two and a half months ago, I jumped through the final hoop in getting it resolved, past the point of no return. I have absolutely no regrets and am quite elated to have had it resolved, excepting the horrendously long healing period.

That's great. Now what do I do?

Certainly, a lot of things have changed since my surgery and my life has been turned upside down in a lot of ways, the primary one being the major relationship I had for over a decade is no longer in existence, to be replaced with something far more shakier that is based on trust, something in short supply due to recent events. Furthermore, my studies and my future thereof isn't anywhere near as interesting. I'm floundering, listless, unmotivated and depressed. I think it's ironic that I have overcome the blight that was the Condition only to find it triggering the disintegration of my familial bonds. Quite bitterly ironic. The one time when I really should have been paranoid, I became this trusting idiot and stepped on a landmine. Positively brilliant.

I can see no clear path forward and for the first time in decades, I'm merely existing without a plan for the future.

I know it's a depressive bout and that I'll pull out of it. I kind of have to - I'm the sole caretaker for the kids right now and they need a functional adult family member as opposed to...whatever emotional wreck I am right now.

The blogging eases the pain somewhat. So does journaling but I'm too shaky to hold a pen in hand.

*sigh* There is a light at the end of the tunnel...and I have to believe it's not a train.

Hard though, when I'm all alone in the night.

Ping

Yes, I'm still alive. The healing seems like it's taking forever, and I can still only sit up/walk for a few hours at most before I have to take a moment to lie down, which puts a crimp on my work day.

More later. Need to have a lie down now.

Done

In the middle of June, I flew off to another city where one of only two surgeons in Canada capable of doing the surgery performed a procedure on me that cured my Condition once and for all.

Or so the Government of Canada decreed. Insofar as I was concerned, I was "cured" last year when I took a pretty radical step in my treatment plan. But...I'm not going to complain.

Still horribly tired with practically zero energy levels. Unpacking a "welcome home" prezzie that was a Lego kit exhausted me and I hadn't even started building yet. Ack.

I'm seriously thinking of taking an extra week of unpaid leave off work right now.

Some humour that arose when I was chatting with a dear old friend:


Me: Pain's always there. It comes in bursts, like someone is taking a scalpel to me.
N (laconically): That's...because someone did.
Me: *pfffbt* Thanks for pointing out the obvious.
N (drily): You're welcome.

Ah...with such friends, how can I fail? Seriously though, I want to take you all for your support throughout this time. Thank you thank you thank you.

And now, I'm off to bed as I'm seeing spots in my vision. Stupid exhaustion.

Cycling airlock...

I'm here at the hospital with about 2-3 hours left to go before the surgery happens. It's been quite a stressful experience so far, with some sweet spots. I'm glad that my friends came by to visit and that my sis is here too.

I had a serious attack of the doubts last night, as I sat all alone in my hospital room. I mean, what if this is *NOT* the right path for me? What if I'm mistaken and this is just some mid-life crisis?

However, there is evidence that this is the right path - I'm apparently happier, healthier and not as much of an annoyance. :) Heck, my internal users (I manage an internal-facing software team) wished me well and one of them dragged herself back from maternity leave to have lunch with me to see me off.

That's...never happened to me before. It's strange being liked, but that again, that's almost a textbook example of what a successful treatment of the Condition is.

I'm pretty sure this is the right path for me. As a dear friend last night put it, it's like wedding jitters...and that's what this is, pre-surgical jitters.

A kind nurse (who's working at the Hospital today instead of the Residence) came by to tell me a joke that she'd promised to tell me earlier. That was really quite nice of her.

Well, I suppose I should rest or meditate or something before I start climbing the walls. I obviously haven't learnt too much patience in all this. 2.5 hours to go. Whee!

Entering the airlock

Well, I'm sitting on my bed at the recovery residence, anxiously awaiting my surgery to happen next week. The surgeon came by, had a pre-op examination on me and assured me that everything is A-OK. I'm also meeting other patients who have already had the same surgery...and they're all universally in pretty rough shape. I'm tense and stressed.

Whee.

The staff here seem excellent though. T-2 days and change...then I should be free from this Condition.

Checkpoints

I've always stopped at various checkpoints during the course of treatment for my Condition to ensure that I'm still on the right path, emphasis on the "I" given that in cases such as this, there's a lot of commentary and pressure from external sources, some motivated by personal gain, others out of love and good intentions. I will say that the phrase "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" is certainly true here.

I'm now sitting just shy of a week before surgery, one that requires me to sign an amazing number of disclaimer forms prior to the doctor operating on me. The gist of all the forms all revolve around the following concepts:
a.) If I die, it's not their fault
b.) No exchanges, returns or refunds

It's the last one that makes my sis and I giggle, but I guess there have been some poor unfortunates who have chosen to skip all the safeguards straight to the remedial surgery then regretted it. In fact, the support groups are all rife with "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!" notices warning everyone considering this particular course of treatment to be really, really, absolutely, totally sure.

Am I 100% sure? To be completely honest, not quite. Also honestly, I don't think I've the type of personality to be 100% sure about anything - the worm of doubt is always at the back of my mind, which has both advantages and disadvantages. But as things go, yes, I'm as practically sure as I'm ever going to be, which is around 99.9997% sure.

Surprisingly, I passed the threshold of "am I really sure" last night. As part of surgical prep, I had to go off my medications a couple of weeks back to allow the meds to flush out from my system before I go under the knife. I've gone through this once before in early 2007 when I had to go in for my last surgery and the effects of going off meds was...unpleasant. This time, it's been touch-and-go thus far and I was terribly afraid that I'd regress back to where I was prior to treatment. However, what I'm finding now (even though all the meds have been flushed out of my system by now) is that some changes, especially the neural remapping seem semi-permanent; I'm not having the same brutal hidden side-effects as I did the last time. That came to a head last night when I had an unplanned event that in turn made me realize, really realize that this surgery I'm going to have is truly remedial surgery, in that what it's doing is fixing certain birth defects (from my viewpoint - most of you without the Condition will most vehemently disagree, I'm sure) and making the current me congruent with a healthy me.

Which is the textbook case of "yes, this is the right course of treatment for patients with the Condition".

Up or down?

Snippet #1: I was off to visit my team which was situated in another city a little while back. The day before I left, I had a team lunch as was the norm. The topic of my upcoming surgery came up and one person asked, "So, what's this surgery for?", to which I replied, "Oh, just some female stuff". He shuddered and exclaimed, "I'm glad I'm not female!", which earned him The Glare from both his manager (who's female) and I.

Snippet #2: I was chatting with a couple of senior executives recently. It was a casual hallway chat and these two have been needling at one another for some time now. One of them (let's call him Mr. A) was complaining about the other (Mr. B) treating him "mean" and solicited my input on the matter. My response was apparently quite funny to Mr. B (which wasn't really what I intended), who then proceeded to smack Mr. A on the arm and said, "See? Even she knows how to man up better than you do!"

I'm currently reading Off Armageddon Reef by David Weber. As with practically all of of his books, this is a great read. In this novel, the protagonist is a woman whose personality and memory has been put into an artificial body long after she died. She awakes centuries after her death to find the last human planet regressed and strayed horribly from the original colonization plan. Understanding that social mores have shifted back to hard patriarchy, she reconfigures her artificial body into a male one in order to nudge the world back on the original plan (and thus have a defence against the alien menace that wiped out Earth in the first place).

Here's my question to you all - I propose that were it a matriarchy and the protagonist was male, the thought of switching to being female to help achieve the mission wouldn't ever cross his mind. Thoughts? Am I wrong? I submit that there's nothing wrong with either solution in this hypothetical case - I'm just curiously exploring why societal norms seem to encourage a unidirectional "man up" attitude (and an unspoken converse of "fem down").

Stressed but satisfied.

It's been quite an eventful few weeks. I've traveled quite a bit during that time and I've still another long trip scheduled in a little over a week when I go for my surgery.

I had a good visit at one of my company's satellite offices (or head office - I can never remember which is which given that they're both pretty big). I used some of the lessons learnt at my recent certification with my team there and the results were phenomenal. I can't say much about it other than the fact that our initiative is going forward far better than expected now.

I also had a chance to go for a work-related conference which was a fantastic opportunity to network. If I play my cards right, there's more goodness arising from the contacts I made at the conference.

The flipside of all this is that I'm still one mega-stressed puppy. With my surgery under two weeks away, this is not a good place to be. *sigh*

Cutting losses

I decided to withdraw from my current semester for my M.Sc. program. It was a hard choice but as I sat there in the dark at 7pm tonight (last night now), I was completely and throughly exhausted, so much so I physically had a hard time getting up and moving around. The training trip had completely drained my reserves, it would seem. Even the mere thought of having to do more work, more studying provoked an involuntary physical shudder through me.

I've been exhausted at least twice in as many weeks. I can continue to pretend that I can but that way lies madness, especially this close to surgery when I absolutely have to be healthy.

Something's got to go. I can't drop my family and in fact, I've been quite derelict in spending time with them as well as helping out at home. I'm sorry, sis - I'll do better. :( I can't drop my work - we need the money, at least until I find a better workplace. So I started looking at other things, and the course was the most expensive (I've already paid for tuition) but would take the biggest stress load off me. The kicker was that I had to have my research project in by the night before I was due to be admitted into the clinic for surgery - I usually bleed off stress from projects for days afterwards and that is not a good way to start off major surgery.

There are other areas I need to cut off as well. I feel like such a failure as I'm doing this - I hate quitting. :( Having said that, I've received nothing but caring support on all this from everyone, even as I'm pulling back, cancelling or delaying my commitments.

I'm getting the distinct feeling that out of everyone in my life, I'm probably the person who underestimates the impact of surgery the most. I keep getting responses like, "You're crazy, that's not enough time to recover" and other similar remarks. That's not good, and I need to go reexamine my position. Joys. :(

It is now T-30 days to surgery. I'm scared but impatient - promises of being finally whole are tempered by the sobering reports of excruciating pain during the months of healing.

Prestige class

I have just returned from an exhausting trip to Somewhere in the US for a course. Upon completion, they declared me Certified to be the work role I've held for the past half a year. Or certifiable, I'm not entirely sure on that count.

I've learnt a lot and I shall be applying all of it to my work role, which I'm quite excited to do over the next few weeks before surgery. I figure that getting Certified is rather like getting a Prestige class as I certainly don't feel too different other than wanting to keel over from exhaustion. I was hoping for new Feats like Smarter-Than-Thou or Jargon Dazzle, which I actually did receive, both of them as a matter of fact. But I can't bring myself to use them. Yet.

Knowing what I know now, I'm starting to understand how my current company got itself into the situation we have now. I had described our difficulties broadly (without compromising the company reputation) and my two very senior instructors gave me some very interesting advice that I intend to follow. Should be fun.

Click for more info

Quite recently, I attended the kids' annual spring concert at their school. They gave a wonderful performance as always - the school has a surprisingly good music program and a very dedicated and enthusiastic teacher. I'm glad the kids are having the exposure and attention I never really received when I was a child.

When I was at the concert, there were legions of toddlers running. As in, literally running around while their distracted parents tried to discover the maximum storage capacities of their digital cameras. It was really distracting until I realized one thing I never noticed before.

The toddlers all looked like the generic townspeople in handheld console games. You know the type - small microbodies, plain faces, cutesy hair for the girls, large liquid eyes. Honest. I kept having to resist the urge to click on them for more information or to receive side-quests. It was...surreal, especially since I'm very sleep-deprived right now and stressed to boot.

Ugh. T-45 days. Who knew Einstein could be so right about relativity?

Future delusions

I've been pondering the future for quite a while and one career path that has become viable lately has been to become a Crazy Cat Lady.

Traditionally, this meant taking care of a horde of evil cats, muttering to oneself until death, whereupon the demise isn't noted for weeks until the police arrive and...never mind, it's not particularly pertinent.

I must admit that being a Crazy Cat Lady does have a certain appeal. For one thing, it's really quite distinctive: every block / neighbourhood / town / whatever generally has exactly one and only one Crazy Cat Lady. Everyone knows about her. And her death will be mourned by...well...someone else I'm sure. Probably not her neighbours though.

So, after some extensive thought, I've decided to get an early start on it. I now am the proud owner of 11 imaginary cats of all breeds, all named using prime numbers thusly: 2+i, 3+i, 5+i, 7+i,...

They can a bit of nuisance sometimes and I've always found it rather odd that the rest of them keep picking on 2+i, like as if she's different or something. I'm also wondering if I should have started off with quite that many cats - I still need to do the math as to whether this is really a factor. Having said that, I don't see any negatives in any of them. Plus, there's also a lot of misinformation about how to acquire more cats - I'll have to sieve the fact from fiction.

Hmm...the largest, fattest one (31+i) constantly demands my attention. I numbered them for convenience because I expect to have no problems getting a near infinite number of cats though the fact that they're imaginary does add a level of complexity to it. But "31+i" is a bit of a mouthful, even within my delusions. I'm thinking of naming her Mersenne - it's such a pretty name, wouldn't you agree?

My friends think I'm off my rocker. Perhaps they're right.

Fame

My dear sister made the local newspaper recently! She attended a charity event a few weeks ago to help raise funds for a local medical care centre. I don't think she was expecting or even had knowledge of it, but there was a reporter in the crowd and out of all the volunteers and glitterati there, the reporter chose her pic as one of the handful featured in the article! Of course, the fact that's positively stunning in traditional Chinese dress probably had something to do with it as well!

For as long as I can remember, she's always self-identified as an artist first and foremost. Sure enough, she's identified in the article as an artist!

I did ask her if she'll remember me when she's famous (she said "Yes") and if she'll give me money when she's got gobs of it (she answered "No"). *sigh* Fame corrupts so easily! :)

Joking aside, I'm soooooooooooo proud of her! She's worked amazingly hard for years to get her craft business off the ground and perfect her artistry. She does amazing things to leather, transforming a base piece of cowhide into painted, hand-sculpted masks of breathtaking beauty. I'm about as artistic as a lump of coal...and even I "get" some of her masks. It can be quite tough to succeed as an artist of any kind and it's usually a thankless task with long hours and little appreciation to show for it. I think it's positively fantastic that she's finally getting the recognition she deserves.

I can't wait to see what she does next! Congrats, sis!

A Hope for Peace

I had a good long chat with my friend who is recovering from surgery similar to what I'm scheduled to have. She's had a nasty time of it, with pain-filled days as recovery happens ever so slowly. Despite all that, she's quite cheerful today and she remarked that the day felt odd to her but that she's finally figured out why. She said that she's finally at peace, and that is going to take her a while to get used to.

I understand that that is a common sentiment amongst my fellow sufferers of the Condition, that there is a serenity so deep that can only come post-operatively.

I'm not sure I know what to think of that. I don't believe I've ever felt completely at peace and certainly nowhere near serene. But...it would be quite pleasant to finally rest after what really was a lifetime of dealing with the Condition. And I suspect that very well be the key, that the sense of serenity comes from knowing that that part of my life will be resolved forevermore.

Truth be told, all the problems of life are still there post-operatively: the bills, taxes, work, etc. But, like the Bene Gesserit Litany, where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I remain.

Meanwhile, I'll just go hide over there under the surgery happens, shall I?

"The clock is running"

Today was a day of frenetic telephone calls related to surgery whereupon I found out that my surgery date got moved a day earlier. Nothing major but I was feeling pretty drained after all that, plus I had a very bad night because of some gory details of the impending operation had been told to me by a friend who at this very moment, has undergone the same procedure herself and is under a great deal of pain. In fact, she had some major complications with her medications today, which led to the doctors placing her back under observation. Long story short, I'm at the cusp of clearing all the hurdles, but not quite. It's hard to live life when so much of it is in the hands of strangers.

I headed home early because of the snowfall warning that was in effect. Lo and behold, there was a letter from the provincial health authorities in the mailbox. I got home, opened it in the car and read it.

Back during the heady days of the Moon Race, the phrase "the clock is running" meant that the rocket and crew have successfully lifted off and on their way into space.

The answer from the provincial health authorities was in the affirmative and the authorization to go ahead with the surgery has been granted. All in all, from when I first became aware of the possibility I may have the Condition to when the surgery will correct it will have been 3 years total, give or take a week or so. Even though it's been hours since I first read the letter, I'm still a little dazed and afraid to believe it.

I'm still not out of the woods yet - I was notified by the surgeon's office that I will be receiving additional instructions by mail next week. I assume this is the mandatory blood test, which if they find anything objectionable will cause me to get bounced back to the provincial authorities to await reassignment to the secondary surgeon. The clock's running, but I haven't "cleared the tower" yet.

Less than two months to go before I'm rid of the Condition. So close yet so far.

Reflections from the other side

Up until a few years ago, I had quite a good memory. This was both good and bad. Good in a sense that I can keep track of quite a long list in my head (and therefore delaying the day that my PDA would implode as I added more to-do items to it) and other such practical skills. Bad because when I've read a book, I've *read* the book; should I ever pick it up again, there's not much point re-reading it as I will already know how it's going to end.

Back in mid-2001, something very significant and blessed occurred in my life which ultimately resulted in the erosion of my memory retention capabilities. I think it's the pretty severe sleep deprivation back then that did me in. Regardless, I'm rather pleased to have lost quite a bit of my memory retention capabilities because now I could finally enjoy previously-read books again!

In the past half a year or so, I've experienced something similar but quite special and wonderful: I've begun seeing life from the other side. It took me a little while to come to grasp with the implications but I'm finding that life is a lot richer and deeper than it appears at first glance. You know those visual trick pictures, the ones where if you look at it one way, it looks like a lamp or an old lady, but if you look at it another way, it turns out to be two faces talking or a young lady? Well, I'm discovering that life is *exactly* like that...only most people get to see just one picture, just one side of the coin. I'm privileged (and perhaps unfortunate) enough to be able to see both pictures, both sides of the coin - should I choose to.

I have. It's pretty marvelous and depressing at the same time. For one thing, I'm experiencing a world where logic isn't all-important. Four years ago, if you had told me that's what I'd be viewing the world as, I'd would have been quite incensed. Now, like the Magic Eye 3D puzzles, everything is starting to pop into view as my neural pathways remap themselves. All I can say is Wow and that I wished I could have seen it sooner and therefore been kinder and more charitable to those I love.

Perhaps an example will help. There is a game called DefCon and if you've ever watched the movie WarGames, you'll be immediately familiar with the premise and gameplay. On the very strong and enthusiastic exhortation of a friend, I tried the demo. DefCon is a beautiful game, well-executed, elegant, complex yet simple with a truly amazing atmospheric in-game soundtrack that sent chills down my spine. However, I couldn't play the game beyond the first 15 minutes; it made me very depressed and brought me on the verge of tears at the whole senselessness of war. That in of itself is a testament exactly how great and well-designed DefCon is - as a developer and gamer, I recommend it strongly if it's your cup of tea. But I didn't pick it up because I simply couldn't bear it.

For the folks who know me, I'm walking away from a beautiful game with subs and nuclear missiles. Willingly, because it disturbs me to the point of tears. Think about it. :)

I'm not going to pretend that life is full of roses - if there's anyone who's gone through some pretty strange life experiences, it'd be me. Having said that, the world is new once more...and I get a second chance to either do better than before or mess it up all over again. Which I could be doing, had I possessed a better memory to recall how I messed up previously.

*sigh*

Sometimes, you just can't win against irony.

Testing testing

This is a test. No need to duck and cover, folks - just trying out my brand new upgrade to MacJournal 5.0.4 that’s supposedly able to let me post directly to my blog here.

Xeno's Paradox

Well, I drove to another city for an appointment with my medical case officer yesterday. 3 hours to drive up, 15 minutes to meet with him and another 3 hours to drive home. Whee.

I was hoping this would be the conclusion of a medical epic that I would really really like to close off so I can get on with my life. Alas, it was not to be.

My medical case officer has rendered a decision upon my case and sent off the paperwork to the province for approval. His diagnosis is, I think, the right one but it's now out of his hands. Great, now I get to wait on the provincial government to get off its collective rear ends to render its judgment.

*sigh*

I've contacted the surgeon per my case officer's suggestion and secured a treatment date...which is all for naught if the province sits on my file for months.

I'm soooooooo close to the end I can almost taste it.

UPDATE: Yep, the emotional butterflies in the stomach have taken flight. I know the surgery is the right path, it's the idea of going under the knife again that's causing a great deal of fear and uncertainty. I've had major surgery before but never quite the immobilized-in-bed-for-a-week major. I understand some people go through this alone; I am sooooooooo glad my sister is coming for part of the time, bless her heart.

UPDATE #2: Oh fudge, I guess I'd better get used to binocular astronomy, as I probably won't be able to lift anything substantial post-surgery. *sigh*

Beautiful destruction

I have been playing Sins of a Solar Empire for several days now. In the beginning, I was mostly playing from a macro view, where I see planets and fleets. Lately, I've been taking advantage to zoom in into a middle of a fleet action.

I'm sure you've seen space fleet battles on some form of entertainment media. Well, this is like watching a skirmish in Battlestar Galactica, only its my ships engaged. Streaming missile trails, bomber squadrons screaming in on attack runs, capital ships pounding each other with amazing salvos, oh my!

In the game, you can form alliances of various kinds with the other races/factions/competitors. In one game, I formed ties with a particular faction and for many turns our partnership went well. Unfortunately, it all went pear-shaped towards the end and I found myself in a shooting war with my ex-partner. Of course, being a technologist, my fleets were superior in every way. It was a very short war.

One of my fleets had jumped into the last planet held by my ex-partner and made short work of the survivors of its space-borne force and static defences. Then the final assault on the planet began in earnest.

If you're a fan of Babylon 5, you'll recall that scene where Mollari is watching in horror as the Centauri fleet bombed the Narns back to the Stone Age via orbital bombardment.

Well, I zoomed in during final assault and there it was - my fleet sterilizing a planet via orbital bombardment. The trails of weapons fire streamed from my fleet onto the planet, with sudden flashes off the cloudtops as nuclear fire tore the life from its surface.

It was beautiful and horrifying at the same time. Yes, I know it's just a game but while we're not quite there yet in terms of being able to have a space fleet bombard a planet, we're perfectly capable of imagining it these days, enacting them through games. And that's the first step for us humans - if we can imagine it, we can probably make it happen someday.

Beautiful yet terrifying. I shall have to think about the what-ifs on morality-vs-necessity of such an attack a bit more. It's just a game, but sometimes the incidental hypotheticals transcend the gameplay itself.

Regardless, a beautiful game. Kudos to Stardock and Ironclad for a job well done.

Technoferrets

I took my new mouse into work today. It's pretty odd-looking, part Batmobile, part futuristic tank in appearance. That, and its rear end lights up. I guess it looks cool or sonething.

It seems to attract developers like flies to honey so that coolness factor seems to work.

You see, I bought it because it had a built-in macro recorder and after messing with Excel for the billioneth time, I realized that perhaps having macro recording capability would preserve my sanity somewhat, especially in Excel 2007, where Microsoft decided to make it look "new" by relocating the functions I know over to somewhere else that I don't know about. I hate the app and I'm using that instead of a prior version (which I know and love) because corporate I.T. refuses to install older versions. *sigh*

Anyhoo, I digress. So here I was, happily fiddling with Excel and doing nifty things with recorded macros when the usual stream of people come sauntering in to try and get me to commit my team for some (typically badly thought out) work. I usually poke holes in their proposal until they get a clue and go away to rethink their needs (or try to sucker someone else to take on the work). Today however, was interesting:

*dev lead struts into my cube*
DevLead: Hey Kate, I was thinking...whoa, what's that you've got on your desk?
Me: Oh, just a new mouse I got. It's got macro recording, which really saves time when I'm using Exc...
DevLead: *interrupts* Wow, it even glows red! *tries to pick it up but I slap his hand off, tut-tutting*
Me: Please do ask before you touch my stuff!
DevLead: *head bobbing left and right looking at the mouse from all angles* Whoa! What's that bad boy called?
Me: *sighs* It's just a mouse, nothing more. But to answer your question, it's a Microsoft Sidewinder.
DevLead: Cool! I have to go check it out! *runs off without discussing proposal*

That scene repeated itself practically all afternoon. I had to step out for a meeting later in the day and returned to find 3 devs clustered around my desk fondling the mouse. I shooed them off.

Yes, I was a very popular manager today. All because my strange-looking mouse has a rear end that glows red.

Oy! I don't recall that I was anywhere that bad with new shiny tech when I was a dev. Still, it's been a pretty amusing afternoon nonetheless. And I didn't have to fend off any idiotic work requests - that's a win in my book! :)

Beauty in imperfection

I was in a meeting that dragged on and on today, one of those just-in-case meetings where you show up to ensure that no one commits your team to something stupid. Suffice to say, I was bored out of my skull while the two loudest participants locked horns once more, like they do in every meeting they attend together.

There were square wooden coasters on the table which I was fiddling with. I quickly exhausted the number of interesting shapes that I could form with just the two. The stack of other coasters was just out of reach, and I didn't want to draw attention to myself lest I get sucked into the increasingly loud discussion-turned-heated-argument that the two were engaged in. So, I started forming shapes with the two coasters I had plus a third imaginary identically square coaster. I managed to form quite a few shapes and was suitably entertained until we got kicked out of the room by another meeting.

Near the end, I came to the startling realization that I had a lot of fun playing with that third imaginary coaster. Having real coasters can be fun too, except that with an imaginary coaster, you can't just push them together and see what shape they are - you also have to imagine what it would look like with that imaginary coaster, whether it'll fit, how it'll fit, all in 3D.

Throughout most of my life, I have been a perfectionist, regularly falling into the trap of not completing tasks simply because I didn't think I could a good enough, i.e. "perfect" job of it. This, fortunately, *didn't* extend to work-related matters - it would have been very harmful to my career had I failed to complete projects. No, this was just in personal projects, where everything had to be as close to perfect as possible or it didn't get done.

Today, I was fortunate enough to see beauty and wonder in imperfection. Had I stuck with my original perfectionist attitude, I'd have put away the coasters once the initial combinations were explored. Instead, I proceeded today despite the imperfections. I've done so many times when driven by necessity and deadlines - the difference was that today, I did it for a trivial amusement, which is something I've never been relaxed enough to do.

So, why am I gushing about something as simple as this? Well, let's just say that I glimpsed a hitherto-unexplored possibility where imperfect things can be more beautiful and elegant and fun than perfect things, which runs contrary to one of my core assumptions/beliefs (but not a core value per se). I guess I'm really breaking out of my shell now, as I am valuing fun and possibilities over perfection and for those of you who really know me, this is a major change and a step towards being more human.

Life is definitely getting more interesting!

Happily glowing in the dark

Well, after playing Sins of a Solar Empire rather intensely for the last couple of days, I'm ready to back off for a little while.

Sins is awesome. As with all great games, it consumes spare time like there's no tomorrow. It's been extremely fun and I've won the game a couple of times now. I'm a little disappointed that you get a Victory notification after you've destroyed the last computer player but if you keep going on conquering and exploring, there's no payoff cutscene. That and the pirates were insanely tough, far tougher than the computer players.

The game hasn't crashed, not even once. Kudos to Stardock for that.

Using the Logitech G5 did seem to help quite a bit - moving the game camera/viewpoint around was far more intuitive. Surprisingly, I didn't end up with a sore wrist like I normally do with mice. Maybe Logitech got it right. Quite pleased with it.

What race did I play in Sins? Why, there's only one choice for me: the psychic deviants known as Advents, of course. I mean, cone on - psychic and deviant, together. Who can resist that? :)

Will I keep playing Sins? Absolutely, just not as intensely as I did in the past few days. Sins did its job - it gave me a rare escape from the world, if only for a couple of hours here and there. I need to do that more often...preferably in some manner more productive than computer games but for now, it's what I have so that's what I'll use.

And so it begins (again)

I am having a fabulously fun time with Sins of a Solar Empire, per my previous blog. It's fun, it's challenging and it brings back wonderful memories of my misspent youth playing games when I should really have been studying or socializing or...umm...never mind. I think I just realized why I was such a wallflower at school.

In the meantime, I've realized that playing Sins is less than optimal with a notebook trackpad, and by suboptimal I mean I get my head handed to me during the RTS portion of the game. So, I dug out my good old trusty Logitech V500 laptop mouse. After yet another session of getting creamed by the AI, I decided that *deep breath* it was time for me to invest in a proper gaming mouse. I haven't spent money on gaming hardware in years, so I knew what was coming - the hours of poring over reviews and comparing features and price points and whatnot.

Some of my friends swear by their gaming mice, that the fact they glow red or blue or something in the dark must add to their gaming prowess. I decided that perhaps having this glow-in-the-dark feature may help somehow in me forming better tactics. I decided to ignore the small niggling point that I play my games under bright illumination so I can't tell if it glows or not. Well, whatever gaming mojo it brings won't be deterred by something as mundane as room lights, eh?

I searched around for a glow-in-the-dark gaming mouse that won't bring down the wrath of an irate budget-conscious sister about my head. I found a few, but they looked weird and horribly expensive. I mean, I'd spend that much on a nice pretty pair of shoes but a gaming mouse? Good heavens, what kind of shallow person spends that much on computer hardware??!

So I sprang for a Logitech G5 gaming mouse. My sis was kind enough to tolerate my antics and picked one up for me during her run out today. *thinks for a bit* Whoa! Hey, it's a Laser mouse, and my ships in Sins uses lasers too! Coincidence? I think not!

I've been using it for several hours now. I'm still getting my head handed to me, but at least now I look cool while I'm playing. Well, I look cool if I turn off the lights so you can see the orange glow-in-the-dark effect. But then no one can see me, which dampens the coolness factor. Hmm. I think I need to go think about it some more.

Uh...where's the light switch?

Mind candy

Well, it's a three day long weekend for us up in Canada. I intend to spend some quality time with my family, doing a spot of studying for my coursework, cooking yummy dishes...and devoting an inordinately unwisely large chunk of time playing Sins of a Solar Empire by Stardock. I've known Stardock since their Object Desktop and Entrepreneur days of yore, circa mid/late 1990s.

In an age where gamers are treated like criminals by game publishers, Stardock does something amazingly simple: they trust their customers. There's no copy protection on the game at all, although if you want updates you have to use the unique CD-key/game code on their website to get that goodness, ditto multiplayer.

I bought Sins last night and am having a blast. It's been a long time since I played a 4X that's space-based. The last good one that grabbed my attention was Master of Orion I and II (III was done by a different publisher as SimTex had gone bye-bye by then and it was horrible). Coming close (but not quite) was Galactic Civilizations II, also by Stardock.

I haven't gotten very far into the game yet (still doing tutorials) but it's very similar to Homeworld in the combat sequences. Insofar as I am concerned Homeworld I, II and Cataclysm rank amongst the best space-based tactical games of all time.

The family is reaping some benefits too; my sis has the full run of the house while I'm busy destroying planets and my nephews each get a full-colour poster of starship combat (I bought the Collector's Edition) to put up in their rooms.

I have some coursework to do, then I hope to spend a disproportionate amount of personal time this long weekend crushing hapless virtual space empires under my tastefully jackbooted sensible heel.

Irising shut

I was in another city this weekend because I had two appointments there. The first one was with a doctor who I had been seeing for a long time. Our doctor-patient relationship was a little off-kilter in the beginning because of the rarity of the Condition; I felt I should be under a different care regime than he did. Over time, we compromised as we both did research and came to a care regime we both agreed on. One thing that cannot be disputed is that this doctor *cares*.

I passed a pretty major medical milestone today and to my surprise, my doctor told me, "Well, looks like you're all set for surgery. Book an appointment with me after you're all healed up. If you need a refill for your meds, or if you have any odd symptoms, call. Otherwise, good luck and I guess I'll see you in a year's time."

Wow. He's pretty much closing up my case in preparation for handoff to my surgeon. It feels...odd after such a long time under his care.

After that appointment, I went in for a medical interview and examination by another doctor at another hospital, who is verifying the diagnosis for yet another doctor (my medical case officer) of mine. This one was the next hurdle; if his diagnosis contradicts my case officer's, it's back to the drawing board for as we run test after test to figure out if it's the Condition or not. It was a long process today as we covered my entire medical history from start to finish, including that of my family's. At the end of it, the doc smiles at me and says, "Yep, I concur with Dr. and looks like surgery's the right treatment for this."

After nearly 3 years, it's finally starting to draw to a close (I hope). The government being the government, it'll take some months before things really happen but at least it's probably going to happen.

It's also the first time that I've had my family with me on a trip like this. My dear sis wanted to make sure she and the kids were there to support me on this milestone, especially if the medical interview didn't go well and I got tossed back into the treatment pile. Thanks, sis and kids - it meant a lot to me that you were there.

Now, I get to cool my heels while my case officer is on vacation and about a month from now, I get to travel almost 8 hours round trip for a 15 minute slice of time with him. If he signs off on the surgical order, it'll be a most worthwhile 15 minutes of my life. So, we'll see.

Insufferable paladins

NOTE: this entry is couched in D&D terms because, well, it's more interesting that way. No, I've never LARPed and don't intend to - WRT to darkness, I've never tried casting Magic Missile at it; I use a flashlight. Let's face it, blogs are just a pulpit for narcissists to whine. Unless if it's interesting, then it becomes Entertaining. Never let it be said that I don't labour for your enjoyment, folks! Oh, and J? Quit laughing, because I can hear you all the way in Canada.

In the D&D universe, there's a class of characters called Paladins who have to be of a certain alignment polarized either towards Good (Paladin) or Evil (Blackguard). There are consequences if your character deviates from these poles of behaviour during gameplay; much badness occurs if the Dungeon Master decides you're not following your alignment, up to having all of your cool powers stripped away.

As a result, having a Paladin in your party is usually...exciting. Being compelled to do the "right" thing per their alignment, the party tends to get sucked into stupid battles that make little tactical sense, simply because the Pally thinks It Has To Be Done. Don't get me wrong - having a Pally in the party has many benefits so the party usually puts up with these occasional semi-suicidal fights. If the party survives, there's usually an amazing amount of XP to be had, not to mention treasure.

The flip side is, of course, the ever-present risk of a Total Party Kill where everybody dies. In fact, practically every campaign that I recall being in where a TPK has happened started with the Pally attacking without consent of the group.

Let's switch over to Real Life for a bit. I've always considered, somewhat jokingly, that if Real Life were a D&D game, I'd be Lawful Evil. Following the same model, somewhere along the line, rather insidiously, I've drifted over to being Lawful Good, probably as a side effect of certain personal revelations caused by going through my treatment for my Condition.

Regardless, I've been facing a pretty nasty dilemma at work since late January. I don't blog about stuff there but as it doesn't matter, I'm making an exception this time. I haven't slept well since I took on a new responsibility and have been sliding down this nasty slope of negativity. There is Right and there is Wrong. I learnt a lot about poor leadership in my many years of being a developer, always being vulnerable to idiotic decisions by my management who make decisions without considering the data. Well, I'm a manager now and I, like the Paladins, have taken a stand against that which I know to be Wrong. Somewhere along the line, I metaphorically multiclassed into Paladin without knowing about it. And I'm not sure if those "idiotic" charges are truly idiotic anymore - if you're not willing to do something about a core value, do you really stand for anything? At any rate, around 17 different metaphorical castings of Greater Restoration spells later, I'm getting really tired of being rend apart for doing the right thing.

So I resigned from that post yesterday with my boss's reluctant permission. I'm still with the company, in my original role. This, my friends, is a Career Limiting Move (tm). I was worried that I was making a big mistake but you know what? Last night was my very first uninterrupted restful sleep since late January. And I feel *fine* this morning despite a stupid cold.

Sometimes, one has to do the Right thing, regardless of the career consequences. A job is just a transitory thing...but self-respect, dignity and integrity are values that one carries for the rest of our lives. Was walking away the right thing? Isn't that quitting? Kind of - after well over 17 tries at addressing the issues, it's pretty obvious that the Powers That Be don't want to deal with it. It'd be futile to keep chipping away at that sort of insane DC. My team knows I've tried and this Monday, a group of them came by and told me they'd understand if I gave up because it's obvious even to them that nothing's going to happen. It warms my heart that even in that short time, we've grown to be friends. Doubly so since I've been pushing them quite hard lately on other matters. I guess I must be doing something right. I hope.

Oh well, it's a beautiful morning, I have the satellite radio on, a coffee by my side and a good book on my lap under my laptop. I'm warm, loved and finally at peace again. Have a good weekend, folks!

A sad day

I learnt that Gary Gygax, the creator of Dungeons and Dragons passed away today. I didn't know him personally and I didn't have to to mourn his passing. He gave the world a precious gift: the ability to use our imagination and intelligence to problem-solve in a fantasy setting. Actually, that's a bit too dry so let me try again: he let us be someone else we wanted to be, just for a few hours.

It's one thing to watch TV, read a book or even play a computer game. It's quite another to sit around the table with friends and role-play, be someone else for a few hours in a setting far far away from our humdrum existence. Heck, if you didn't have friends, that's a pretty good place to start.

I played my first game of D&D (1ed!) when I was still in school, I guess in what North Americans would have called junior high. I still remember my very first character - a Lawful Good cleric. Our DM was a git and kept on Wiping the entire party every game. We were young and broke; we had one set of dice that we had to pass from person to person when it was their turn. And yes, the magic user was always the first to die regardless of where the character was in relation to the other party members. I feel for the player now, as playing a first-level magic user all the time was no fun. Eventually, life intervened and we stopped playing as we got streamed into different classes.

I guess I'm getting all misty-eyed because it was my generation that D&D made an impact with. As gawky, shy teenagers, those of us who would now be considered nerds or geeks were prime targets for the bullies in the school. Intelligence wasn't a valued commodity; popularity was. D&D let me and others of my generation use our gray matter in a way that was, for many of us, useful for the first time outside of the classroom.

Would I say that D&D made me the person I am? Certainly not. Hard work and perseverance got me here...but D&D definitely gave some truly excellent memories and great friends to boot.

Thank you, Mr. Gygax, for giving countless hours of joy to so many of us, for showing that imagination is powerful and for making our teenage years bearable. May you rest in peace, wherever you are.

Choices

I walked into a discussion today between two acquaintances. One of them was mentioning that his wife was a social worker and the conversation eventually wended its way, as most random discussions do, onto an unusual subject - women who ply their trade in the "oldest profession".

The universal attitude was unsurprisingly one of derision and condemnation. To be honest, that would have been my reaction as well but I decided to stop and think about it for a bit. People don't generally go for this sort of work without good reason. I'll put it to you this way - go ask any child the innocuous question of what they want to be when they grow up and I'll bet you you won't find a single one who'll say that this is what they want to do. Why? Well, consider the following:

1. Massive health risks
2. Massive physical risks
3. Societal stigma
4. Criminal record
5. Limited employment period (only while beauty lasts)

So why do people do it? It normally boils down to one thing: money. However, the risks don't outweigh the benefits in the long run. So, again, why do people do it? Here, I think we get closer to the truth: money and desperation. It's a way for the hopeless and the disenfranchised to earn good money. In some cases, it's perceived as the only way to earn money for some segments of society.

Thankfully, I have never ever been in a position where I had to consider the possibility of plying the trade to stay alive. It's not a normal question that we ask ourselves.

So why do we pour such derision, such distaste and disapproval of such folks? Is it wrong? I believe so. But given that it's not a choice that any of us would willingly take, why do we choose to cast these unfortunates out, to ostracize and brand them pariahs when we know full well that it wasn't a choice they willingly took?

Fear...and redemption

Regular readers will know that I have had medical issues for some time. Close friends of mine will know that there are two issues troubling me, one of which is the Condition that I'm being treated for, the other involves my eyes where I've repeatedly gone under the knife for over the past decade and a half.

This year is shaping up to be a scary one; if everything goes as planned, I'll probably be having at least one surgery, perhaps up to three. One surgery is going to arrest (and hopefully reverse but not completely) an issue that is making me slowly blind in one eye. The other ones are all Condition-related.

I remember when I was young and healthy - surgery was what old people and distant relatives went through. Now, having been operated upon quite a number of times, I will admit that the fear is still very much there but there's a certain grim determination to just get it over with so that I can get on with my life.

I received the first set of supplies needed in preparation for one of my surgeries today. I'm going through and checking them against the shipping manifest with that determined grimness above, knowing full well that the road to recovery is going take nearly a year post-op. It's one thing to know you're going under the knife but it's quite another to see and hold supplies in your hand that you're going to use during a painful recovery.

Do I want to undergo these treatments? To my surprise, the answer is yes. As horrible as it may be, I just want to be healthy again and to avoid surgery merely means putting off the inevitable.

There is a certain calmness that comes from that special mix of deep primal fear coupled with a profound sense of rightness. I'm going through a fearful time knowing that there will be intense protracted pain but my redemption lies in focusing on the fact that there will be healthy normality at the end.

Deep Blue

I tend to be pretty high energy these days but every now and then, I do fall into a deep funk. I'm not normally a depressive type - when I'm down, there's usually a good reason and I snap out of it either within hours or at worst the next day.

I do understand depression; folks like me tend to be depressed as a side-effect of our Condition, but this goes away as we are treated. Since my full treatment began nearly a year ago, the mind-killing depression has gone away almost completely. I say almost because there's still quite a ways to go before the treatment's fully done. What I have seen of it is quite an amazing change though.

Condition and its treatment aside, life still happens. The past month and a half or so have been particularly stressful and today was probably one of the two sharp spikes of peaking stress I've experienced thus far. Compared to other times in the past, perhaps it's not as bad but I've been feeling very worn around the edges for some time, so my immunity to changes is very very low. I know this for a fact because an area of the treatment for my Condition have been excruciatingly painful lately, far far more than it ever has been.

I'll be honest here - I had second thoughts about posting this entry. Depression isn't something you blog about, leastways not if you don't want it to haunt your future when your online identity is compromised. Having said that, I'm not exactly whining about it - this isn't an entry about "oh no poor me I'm so blue". I know I'm blue now but I also know things will be better in the morning. Depression seems to have a social stigma...but it's a part of everyone's life, young or old, rich or poor, single or partnered. Hiding that fact it exists, that it can strike the healthiest, most well-adjusted person is just dumb and won't solve anything.

Am I depressed right now? Yes, and I even know which particular stressor pushed me down this path. But I'll snap out of it in the morning. I believe that accepting it as a normal, transient condition is the healthy approach. Your thoughts?

Having said all that, I still hate it when it happens during a bout of insomnia. :(

Raw Soylent Green

It's been a very eventful two weeks thus far. In that time, I've had my responsibility increased in several non-family areas. On the one hand, I'm flattered and overawed by the trust that these folks have placed in me. On the other hand, I'm quite daunted by the tasks ahead of me.

Just last September, I was in a nice, solitary existence where I didn't have to deal with people much. That's been the case for as long as I can remember. Suddenly, I'm in not one but three (soon to be four) massively people-oriented positions.

I think it happened because I stopped calling people "Humans" or "Expendable Resources" or "Raw Soylent Green". Somehow, somewhere along the line, I started to care.

I've always been able to navigate my way through complex mechanical and electronic systems. Nowadays, I can see the complex systems that make up people's hopes and fears. It's not some magical revelation - I just didn't give a hoot about people in general (other than a very small and select group of friends and family) up until quite recently. Now that I do, I think the folks around me are a little gobsmacked that I'm interested in listening and helping them out. Once they've assured themselves that no, I haven't picked their pockets and that all their limbs are still intact, they're opening up to me.

It's quite an amazing feeling, really, to be in a position to hear and help other people overcome hurdles in their lives. I'm quite surprised that I can honestly say that there isn't even a tiny piece of me that still says, "Fools! Be lulled into your false sense of security and bring your neck closer! Bwahahahahahahaha!"

I blame this change on the treatment for my Condition. Or that I'm starting to believe in my own propaganda about Sweetness and Light. Ack.

Catching up

First off, thanks very much to G & S who kindly suggested options for the whole privacy issue in the previous entry - I'm taking a look at some options myself and I'll be in contact with you two in the next few days. Thank you both!

This is mostly a catch-up entry. I've been running pretty ragged lately and just haven't had time to relax. This is something I'm remedying posthaste now that I'm aware of it.

So, what's happened lately? Well, I've been pretty absorbed with my job which is taking up a very large portion of my time and consciousness. On the personal side, there's a few very significant things happening. For one, I've been voted into a expanded role with one of the local non-profits here, which means that I can now influence policy at the provincial (state) level. Sounds heady, doesn't it? Not really - it just means I'm now working during my non-office, personal hours as an unpaid paper-pusher...but even bureaucrats can do real good for the community, I hope.

Let's see...I've already touched on the whole medical thingy. Oh yes, I'm also rethinking how I'm relating to my family. I've realized that I've swung too far in the opposite end of the scale in involving my family's needs in my thinking. I need to find a healthy balance between taking care of my family *and* myself instead of placing either one above the other. I need to find some alone time for myself so I continue my delicate tap-dance on that razor edge dividing unhealthy self-sacrifice and selfishness...

...which brings me to my latest toy: a satellite radio receiver. Yes, I did finally find a use for that money I mentioned in Desiring nothing. I've been looking at those for quite some time now but never took the plunge because of the very steep costs involved. First you have to get a satellite radio, which isn't cheap. Then you need to buy the subscription, which *definitely* expensive. All for what appears to be programming that you can get for free with broadcast radio. To complicate matters, there's two competing companies in that marketspace. Yes, I know they're trying to merge but until the Feds allow it, they're still two separate companies with two separate offerings.

Traditionally, the choice between the two companies (Sirius and XM) depends on what kind of a sports fan you are, which is completely useless to me given that I don't watch sports at all. Eventually, what swayed me was access to NPR, the Beeb and dedicated Old Time Radio and opera channels. Once I started using satellite radio, I was hooked - it's not just the lack of commercials (you don't really realize how annoying those are until you use satellite radio) but the quality of programming.

I was pleasantly surprised by two aspects of satellite radio: because they display the singer/composer and title of the song playing, I'm delightfully finding out the details of songs I've heard for years but didn't have a clue about. Yes, I know that broadcast radio has something similar with the Radio Data System but most receivers don't support it. The other aspect was bittersweet: I've got deteriorating vision and my primary source of news, data and entertainment has always been visual...until now. It's *soooooo* relaxing to be able to turn on my satellite radio, close my eyes and still get my hit of news or stories.

Well, that's pretty much about it and I think I've caught up. Bored yet? :)

Evolution

I think everyone evolves as they go through life. I don't mean that folks will grow wings or appendages or whatnot - I simply mean that we don't stay who we are for long.

This entry is the third I've written in the past few weeks but it's the only one I'm posting. When started blogging, it was the right thing to do - I had been journaling in my Moleskine for quite a while prior to that and it was the right time to share my life with my friends and family. I still want to do that...but I'm not sure I'm comfortable having complete strangers looking at my life. This basically means that blogging is out if I want access control over my entries. I'm not entirely sure what medium I should shift to - if any of you have an idea, I'd love to hear it.

I'm coming up to a very important date in my long medical saga - again, one of those things that I'm not going to air details in public on. Suffice to say that it's given me cause to pause and reconsider my course of treatment. This reevaluation is routine; I regularly check to see how I'm feeling and if I'm still feeling okay with the rather intrusive treatment. So far, so good.

I have a pile of paperwork to do - the bane of management everywhere. I suppose I should stop procrastinating and get started on it. *sigh*

Recharging

I returned from my business trip last night and the jetlag is killing me. It was a very long trip with lots of stress. I pretty much subsisted on pub food and very little sleep.

Unlike my previous trips, looking at family pictures on my smartphone just accentuated the fact I missed them terribly and got the waterworks started. I can't say I've ever had that happen to me before - any of you had that experience? Fortunately that was always in the privacy of my hotel room - I don't cotton with the idea of doing personal things at work, particularly if I'm offsite, which I think was my saving grace this time around.

When I saw the kids and my sis last night, I shook with waves of joy and relief! I think if I hugged the kids any harder, they'd pop! Unfortunately, I still didn't have a good night's sleep last night. I think it's because when I'm overtired, I don't sleep well.

I did manage to sneak in a single pathetically short jaunt to the mall during my trip and found some goodies to bring home. As a result, my sis and I were treated to squeals of delight and laughter this morning as the kids played with the knick-knacks I gave them. A very pleasant way to spend a Saturday morning, I must say.

Most of the day is gone and I'm still exhausted. I've done nothing much besides eat and rest and I still feel distinctly unmotivated to do anything, which is unusual. I have a nasty suspicion I have caught a cold, not something I need at this juncture in my worklife.

But I'm home, surrounded by my family with a cuppa beside me. For a lazy Saturday afternoon, that's one form of bliss I'm quite content to have.

Ties

I'm due to go on a business trip soon. I get to use my brand new passport with the new ugly photo and all. Whee!

It's weird, I haven't left but I'm already missing my sis and the kids intensely. So intensely I haven't been able to sleep well lately. I can't imagine how much worse this is going to be once I actually leave. I'll find out but I don't think I'll like the experience very much.

Back when I was younger, I used to love business trips. It was a treat then - companies simply didn't let their developers roam outside their cubicle farms, let alone send them to meet (*gasp*) live customers. I remember it being fun then and indeed, I traveled quite a bit. I have very fond memories of having the most delectable rabbit kidneys in a restaurant in Hull, QC. Or blowing $800 back in 1997 on a sushi dinner with clients in San Francisco (don't worry, I expensed the lot).

Nowadays, it's just a drag. I'm looking at many many many days either in a cramped office or a lonely hotel room. I have no car there since there's no way I'm insane enough to go driving in that city. Don't get me wrong, there's very decent business reasons why I'm there. I should know, I reviewed them myself. It's still a drag though.

You know what I'll miss the most? The noise and thunder of the kids playing. The quiet companionship of my sister once the kids are in bed. The fact that at the end of the day, where I return to is the place I call home. Home is where the family is.

Which is where I won't be for a little while. Must remember to pack a ton or two of Kleenex.