Chicken livers

I used to say that you could fry anything and it would taste good, that you could fry shoe laces and they'd be delicious. 

Then I tried fried chicken livers.  

I was wrong.  

GROSSSSSSSS.  Uncle Air Force made them for dinner tonight, and I tried one.  I literally spit it out into my hand after one chew.  I almost vomited, as in seriously, I almost up chucked, it was that disgusting.  The texture, the taste, ewwwwwwww.  

So, you can't fry anything and make it good.  

Differing musical tastes

My better half listens to:

Leonard Skynard, Grateful Dead, Phish, Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd, Medesky Martin & Wood*, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Peter Gabriel, Lucky Dube, Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Jeff Beck, Santana, Singers & Players, Bauhaus, The The, Ozzy Osbourne, U2, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix, etc. 

His better half listens to: 

Coldplay, U2, Katy Perry, Jordin Sparks, Flo Rida, Rhianna, Eminem, Brad Paisley, Eric Church, Gavin DeGraw, Chris Brown, The Band Perry, Peter Gabriel, Lady Antebellum, Zac Brown Band, Good Charlotte, Blake Shelton, Miranda Lambert, Lady Gaga, Maroon 5, Demi Lovato, etc.

If we were Venn diagrams, we would not intersect very much.  I play the Top 40 or Modern Country station in the house, and tries not to listen. He plays godawful stuff from his computer and I try not to listen.  Our shared iTunes account is bipolarly confused. 

* there is a special place in HELL for people who play Medesky Martin and Wood in my presence.  

Black light poster on ceiling

Last night, I idled noted how cool it would be to put Offspring's black light active poster on the ceiling of his room over his bed so he could gaze at it from bed. Of course, that turned into a promise to do it. Tonight, he remembered that I said I would. Rut roh. I am not handy. I don't really "do" ladders. 

I decided to be brave. Went to the garage. Got the ladder. Carried it (with his help) up the stairs. Pulled the bed out from the wall. Climbed up. Hyperventilated. Climbed back down. Collected myself....

Tried again. Taped poster to ceiling, which involved a great deal more balance and nerve than I normally have. Or I ever have really. Moved bed back, carried ladder down stairs, put back in garage.

Mom is a hero now. It was worth it. 

Sylvia

Whenever Wheeler has a UTI, we take in a sample of his urine after he finishes the course of the prescribed antibiotic to make sure (or not) that the infection has cleared (or not).  He has been fighting a UTI for about 8 weeks now, and this is his 3rd course of antibiotics - the last 2 which has failed - which we know because each time we took the sample in after the 2 courses, his urine was still dirty. He just finished his 3rd round of antibiotics, so today I took a sample in.

But, to get a sample run, you have to get past evil Sylvia at the front desk of the urologist's office.  She is a rip roaring pain in my ass, and she truly enjoys being a pain in the butt.  EVERY time I take in a sample, I tell her that I am merely there to drop a sample off to the lab, that the specimen cup is clearly labeled with his name, birthdate and that it needs a C&S (culture and sensitivity) run.  She then looks ever so puzzled in a syrupy sweet southern way, and says with sugar "Does he have an appointment with Dr. B today?", knowing full well he doesn't since I JUST SAID I WAS DROPPING OFF A SAMPLE ... that and HE'S NOT WITH ME.  So I say, no, I am just here to drop off the sample after the prescribed course of antibiotics, as per Dr. B's instructions.  Then she says "Well, I'm sorry, he has to have an appointment with the doctor in order to do that".

NO HE DOESN'T!!!!!!  I then argue with her for 5 minutes that no, he doesn't need a FRIGGIN' APPOINTMENT to drop off a sample.  The entire time, she acts as if no one has EVER in the course of her ENTIRE employment at a UROLOGIST'S office has come to drop off a urine sample without an appointment.  She then says that he at least has to have a nurse's visit scheduled, then she pulls up the calendar and suggests a date in the next decade.

I AM DROPPING THE SAMPLE OFF TODAY LADY.

She then insists again that I just cannot drop a sample off like this, and I will tell her, yes, I can.  I tell her to ask Dr. B's nurse.  She SIGHED LOUDLY, and told me to sit down and wait.  She then tended to her fingernails, answered the phone, filed charts and chit chatted for 20 minutes before going back to ask Dr. B's nurse.  As soon as she came back from the back, she said "Oh, yes, Dr. B said you can drop that off, the lab is just through that door".

Gee thanks.

And the dance will continue the next time.  I wish they would fire that wench.

Gay marriage

5 Decisions Away

Do you watch the A&E show "Hoarders"?  If you do, you probably will recognize the name Matt Paxton; he is one of the extreme cleaner guys - the dude who shovels shit (literally) and cleans up the worst hoarding houses.  Well, as it turns out he has a podcast (iTunes) and a website - both named "5 Decisions Away".  The premise behind the name is that one is always just 5 decisions away from a life changing event - good or bad (if you watch the show, you know what the "bad outcome" he refers to is... I'll not gross you out and write it out here). His podcast is about 90 mins long weekly and this week's is episode 27 or 28 I think.  Usually the first half is just shooting the breeze and various stories, and the second half is generally about hoarding - although not always.  He is a natural born storyteller, a true raconteur, and I enjoy listening to his podcasts.  I have gone back and listened to about 15 of them so far, and plan to listen to all of them (goodbye 38 hours of my life....).  Warning: the humor is raunchy, raw and not G-rated in the slightest. But if you lean towards that kind of humor .... go listen - its hilarious, disgusting, touching, and informative. 

How much my insurance company loves me

Wheeler has a urinary tract infection that is resistant to every single oral antibiotic out there, and to every single IM/IV abx as well, all except one (called Invanz for the curious).  But it has to be given as an injection and so the choice was to go to the doctor's office every day for 10 days (with it being unclear what we would do over the weekends for injections) or I could do the injections at home myself.  Given that our copay for a specialist is $70 PER visit (we have sucky insurance), and that the insurance company absolutely requires that the doctor's office charge it, that would have been $700 out of pocket for us just to have the injections done by their office.  .... Uh, I don't think so.  So we decided - as we have done before - to do the injections at home.

Problem: I am anaphylatically allergic to penicillin. And this drug cross reacts in 50% of people with pcn allergies.  Solution: send an email to our 700 member neighborhood email list to see if anyone with medical training would be willing to give him the injections here at home for 10 days.  Within 15 minutes, I had an offer to help - hooray!  A retired plastic surgeon who lives a few blocks over comes over every day to administer his injection.  Its a real pain though because it comes in powder form in a vial, and has to be reconstituted with vicious lidocaine.  So you have to draw up 3.2 mL of lidocaine, inject the lidocaine in the powder vial, shake it like crazy for a couple of minutes (it is very difficult to dissolve), draw it up into the syringe, change needles (since its no longer very sharp from being poked into two vials), then inject him.  Just in case I get exposed though, we have an "adult allergy emergency kit" prominently on the kitchen counter: EpiPen, prednisone, benadryl, zantac (little known allergy rescue, as an H2 inhibitor it suppresses allergic reactions), albuterol, and strict instructions to call 911 if I start wheezing or if my tongue swells.

Also part of the solution is that I have to treat Wheeler as if he is biohazardous waste.  38% of the drug is excreted in urine unchanged, and 10% in, lets call it 'other ways', so I can't do his personal care at all.  I have been getting him up in his chair and back in bed, but anything involving more personal care, Uncle Air Force has to do.  This means that he had to stay here last weekend and next weekend since the 10 days is straddling two weekends, which he is very unhappy about.  He said "thanks for all the advance warning" .... AS IF SOMEHOW WE COULD HAVE PLANNED THIS?!?!?  That makes me nuts.  "hello yes?  I'd like to plan an infection for next month... yes, let's say the 5th, and let's plan for a drug that she can't handle for 10 days, and make it only straddle one weekend please .... yes, thank you, we'll be sure to be ready for the infection".  AS IF?!?!?!  Grrrrr.  I get pissed when people get pissed at ME for  things I can't control.

Anyway, let's hope for the best.  And in the meantime, I had two claims for my foot go through and both were denied because I am "not a plan member".  WHAT?  So now I have to call them and get it all figured out and assure them that yes, we do pay $617 a month faithfully for me to have their shitty insurance so please PAY my doctor's bill.  Argh....