Found
Posted on Tuesday, 13th May 2008 at 11:21pm- 10 Comments Ensuing
Amongst all the chaos of the last few months; the break-up, tears, arguments, unwarranted weight loss, depression, headaches, death, cancer, life changes and challenges…
I seem to have found my creativity again.
A week ago I stumbled upon a box full of findings and beads on sale. I dug around the box, found a few items, and decided to buy them without intention to use them. “They’re cheap and I might use them one day,” I assured myself. Then my creative energy flowed and during a five hour beadathon yesterday I created an array of bracelets.
My new found creative energy could be linked to the fact that a dear friend of mine suddenly found out some devastating news regarding the health of her baby, news that took me days to comprehend and acknowledge. Her beloved seven month old baby boy has numerous incurable cancerous tumours all over his body. Four in his brain, one wrapped around his heart, another wrapped around his windpipe and spine, no major organ is free from the cancerous tumours. I cried for days. The entire situation seems so unfair and surreal. His mother celebrated her first Mother’s Day by his side in hospital, hoping for a miracle and asking for resolve. Weeks earlier the young family had moved into their new home, they were looking forward to a holiday and planning a first birthday later this year. This week doctors and family prepare for the inevitable. When I first heard the news it felt like a bad dream, because I never knew such an aggressive cancer could attack a baby in such a manner. It’s everywhere. The doctors are performing chemotherapy not to cure the cancer, but to possibly shrink the tumours and make him more comfortable, he is in pain, pain that he cannot vocalise given how young he is. A miracle has been questioned, as everyone involved clings to hope, doctors are regrettably confident that even if all of the multiple tumours could be shrunk and/or surgically removed, the cancer would return within months given it’s aggressive nature.
Aggressive. I hate that word.
The recent events have made me realise how cruel and unfair life can be, forcing me to contemplate mortality in great detail, leading towards sleepless nights and rumination.
“To die is poignantly bitter, but the idea of having to die without having lived is unbearable.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Easter Fireworks
Posted on Saturday, 29th March 2008 at 1:48am- 10 Comments Ensuing
There are a few things you do not expect to say while watching a supposedly controlled and family orientated Easter fireworks display.
One of these things is, “I’m not staying here, I’ll probably be killed” or “too dangerous” you also don’t expect to turn around to find a distressed mother trying to find the first-aid tent to treat her young son who copped a firework to the face, causing his cheeks to welt and his cries to recoil in pain.
Unless you attend a supposedly controlled and family orientated Easter fireworks display in Rockingham…
When you hear me say “ow” or “fuck” it’s because I was hit by bits of fireworks, and yes, I do believe I was entitled to the swearing, Mum. When you hear the kid in front say “ow fuck” it’s because a smouldering amber hit him in the leg. When you hear various crowd members scream, “ow fuck my eyes” as fireworks that make a ’sizzle’ sound are launched, it’s because the crowd was treated to a good old fashioned carnival eye burning. And when you hear me say “too dangerous” it’s because I finally realised how foolish it was to be that close, and promptly moved away, only to nearly be hit again by a large searing remains of a firework while standing under cover at a showbag stand.
Sorry for my Cloverfieldesque camera work, It’s hard to capture decent quality video when your eyes, skin and throat are burning. I was trying to hide under my hoodie for the duration, meanwhile, my friends decided to move away to a safe distance because they’re not big on having their flesh burnt.
After nearly being killed, we perused the rest of the carnival, I bought fairy floss and we were pleased to see the ‘hot sweet & juicy’ corn van and freaky clown games involving balls were present and accounted for…
The towns slogan should be changed to, “Rockingham, if our bogans don’t kill you our fireworks will.”
Paused
Posted on Tuesday, 18th March 2008 at 11:13pm- 15 Comments Ensuing
My life has been set on pause for the last few months.
Every day I have been waiting; waiting for the nurse to return my call, waiting while driving an hour to the hospital, waiting for the doctor, waiting for a lift, waiting in line at the café around the street because the hospital has banned my beloved Coca Cola, waiting for the night to end without receiving an urgent call about her condition, waiting at a specialists, waiting for a time machine to be invented so I can go back to last year and prepare for said waiting.
My grandmothers health has been poor since late last year. A late night trip to the hospital last August revealed a long sinus pause in her heart, the doctor was slightly concerned and referred her to a cardiologist who performed various tests. One of the last tests he ordered was a holter monitor in February. After wearing the holter monitor for 24 hours she was told that the cardiologist would take a look and get back to her in a few days. She strolled down to the bus stop and decided to stop in the city to do some shopping before returning home. Just as the bus pulled up to the stop and she prepared to board, she heard someone screaming her name. It was two nurses, running in her direction and screaming her name, followed by another nurse with a wheelchair. When they finally reached her, they told her that there was a serious problem, that the cardiologist wanted to admit her so he could assess her situation. My grandmother, stubborn at heart, asked them if she could come back later, as she wanted to do some shopping. Five minutes later the nurses finally convinced her that it was urgent, then a few hours later my Gran was on a ward, hooked up the heart monitors, having her blood pressure taken hourly and still unsure what all the fuss was about.
The fuss was about a three second sinus pauses during the day and a six-ten second sinus pauses at night time. She was kept in hospital for over a week in late February. Treatment was a pacemaker, but her doctors were concerned about her high blood pressure, various clotting medications and low white blood cell count, they decided to postpone the procedure for a week and try to stabilise her blood pressure and blood count. My Gran spend her days in hospital protesting politely. She is very independent and despises anyone making a fuss. She told the doctors to just get on with and and not worry about her, as she was sure they had more important things to do, they laughed and pointed out that worrying about her was their job and she was their most critical patient in their care.
When I visited her in hospital, I first noticed that she was hooked up to monitors and looking quite sickly and tired, the first things she asked me was “who won the cricket last night?” I laughed, she told me that her motto is ‘nothing in life is more important than lotto, cricket and football’. After I found out the cricket scores from another patient, I went to find a vase for the flowers I had bought her. I found a vase near the nurses station, as I snipped off the stems the head nurses said, “your Gran really scares the night staff” in a serious tone that caught me off guard. I asked why - given that she in her late 80’s and doesn’t own a gun - he replied, “her sinus pauses at night, they’re becoming too long, they sit watching the monitor ready to page the doctor.” After that confession I no longer slept well at night either.
During another visit I stopped by her unit to gather some of her belongings. Betty, one of my Grandmothers friends, met me outside and inquired about when she was coming home. I told her I was unsure, then she asked if I would pass on well wishes to my Gran and that she missed gossiping with her. I replied, “of course, I’m sure she misses your company and can’t wait to see you again” with a smile. Betty was pleased. She bid goodbye and proceeded to walk away. Then she suddenly paused and turned around to say possibly one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received, “you remind me of my granddaughter, she always looks me in the eye when she talks to me and has such a warmth about her. You don’t see that in a lot of young people these day. Your Grandmother is lucky to have you.”
I must say, RPH have fantastic staff. I am astounded by their professionalism and friendliness. You simply look confused in a corridor and a orderly appears - as if by teleportation - and asks you if you need some assistance. It’s sad that the government plan to close such a historical hospital.
My only gripe - a frivolous one at that - is there seems to be a ban on classic Coca Cola at the hospital. Upon consulting the nurses, I found out they score a hit of Coke from the dealers down the street and I then started buying Coke in bulk for myself and the day nurses.
My grandmother was discharged from the hospital two days after they put in the pacemaker. She then stayed with me for a week so I could keep an eye on her and while she watched the cricket. Apart from some bruising and the pacemaker needed it’s pulse/speed changed, she is feeling dramatically better. She has returned home to gossip with her friend Betty and is quite perplexed as to why she feels a tad weak when walking to the shops. Her doctor says it will take six-eight weeks for her to fully recover and for her to take it easy.
Alas, easy is not how my Gran rolls.
Kit Without The Kat
Posted on Saturday, 19th January 2008 at 2:53am- 15 Comments Ensuing
One of my boyfriends highly professional workmates purchased a KitKat at work, and to his amazement, it had no wafers present amongst the chocolatey goodness. Shock and horror was felt among the workers to find a waferless KitKat. As my boyfriend likes to fight against evil doers and injustice in the workplace - occasionally when I forget his job description, I just say he works for Torchwood - he decided to call Nestle and transcribe the entire conversation, and then email it to me for my perusal and enjoyment…
“Hello, how can I help you?”
“Well, I just had a disappointing experience with one of your chocolate products.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, which product was it?”
“The KitKat.”
“Was that a standard KitKat?”
“It was branded as such, but I soon discovered it was substandard.”
“So what was the problem with the KitKat?”
“I guess you could say it had no Kat in it.”
“No cat in it?”
“Yes, it was missing the delicious chocolatey wafer Kat centre.”
“Oh, that definitely would have made the experience less enjoyable.”
“Definitely. It was a disappointment to find the absence of the wafer inside. I mean, I would say that would be the whole point of the KitKat, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Sir. We will have a refund out to you with an apology letter as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, I trust that my experience with your confectionary in the future will be much more satisfactory.”
True to their word, Nestle sent a $5 cheque in the mail for the anguish caused by the Kit being Katless and they have yet to figure out how to spend the immense sum. Another injustice solved.
Sexiest Geek
Posted on Saturday, 5th January 2008 at 11:19pm- 17 Comments Ensuing
According to Wired’s third annual Sexiest Geeks list, I am one of 2007’s sexiest geeks.
I’m unsure what one is meant to say when they receive such a prestigious and esteemed nomination.
Every year, Wired nominates the smartest, sexiest and most Wired men and women of the year. I’m up there with the sexy greats; Danica McKellar, Kary Byron, Amber MacArthur, Kary Byron (her clone), Morgan Webb, Olivia Munn, Leah Culver, Veronica Belmont, Felicia Day, Leah Culver (another clone), Kristen Bell, Alyson Hannigan and Joss Whedon. Who sadly seems to be the last man standing in the top-rated list. Whedon must possess some awesome fanboy powers or have hundreds of monkeys to do his evil biddings.
And then there is me, somewhere in the middle of it all, with 830 positive and 476 negative votes. Accompanying my photo is a short description which claims that I possess “mad CSS skillz” and that I enjoy playing WoW. Mad CSS skillz, that is such a nice thing for you to say… I mean, my code is really depreciated. I know, I’ve been wanting to release my re-design into the wild, but I’m trying to overachieve with it, do something amazing, which is a bit like trying to bend a spoon with your mind when you have no mind to bend it wit… Wait a minute.
Since when do I play WoW?
I’m pretty sure I have never played World of Warcraft, as I prefer FPS over MMORPG’s. So unless my WoW playing friends have drugged and kidnapped me for the horde or someone is posing as me on WoW (which would be a new level of weird that has yet to be achieved by my fakers/posers), I’m pretty sure I have never played WoW.
Does this mean you were lying about the “mad CSS skillz” too?
Update…
I have been cloned. There are now two of me present on Wired’s Sexiest Geeks of 2007 list. Can you pick which one is the cyborg?
2008 Predictions
Posted on Wednesday, 2nd January 2008 at 4:30pm- 8 Comments Ensuing
I’ve never been a fan of resolutions made hastily while celebrating the start of a new year. Why not embark on resolutions throughout the year, instead of making unreachable resolutions to cease bad habits, then proceeding to give them up before the Easter bunny is due? I prefer predictions.
So ladies, gentlemen, drunk people who are waking up from NYE induced paralysis, ninjas, and pirates; here are my 2008 predictions for your perusal…
- Imitation beer flavoured Coca Cola; no alcohol, no sugar, no fat, no point.
- An American man tries to eBay his wife’s brain. He claims she no longer uses it.
- Cookie Monster comes out of the closet and admits he really loves brownies, not cookies.
- Amy Winehouse is arrested for kidnapping a four year old boy. She maintains the boy curled up and fell asleep in her beehive hairdo, and that she was too drunk to hear the screams of terror upon his waking in the darkened beehive of doom.
- Signs used during the writers strike announce that they will be striking until demands of better hours and conditions are met. One sign says he was left on the side of the road while a writer went for Starbucks. The unnamed sign now suffers from PTS (Post Tarmatic Stress).
- An American lady tries to eBay her husbands penis. She claims he doesn’t know how to use it properly, and she would rather it be owned by a more experienced user.
- Britney Spears starts her own blog. The tag line reads, “Dis iz ma buloowwg ya’lll” and confuses readers with her intoxicated ramblings.
- Google releases a ‘Britney to English’ translator.
- Oprah starts Twittering.
- President Bush is excited when he finds Bin Laden. The joy is short lived when his advisors point out that he has found Wally, not Bin Laden.
- Twittering is finally acceptable at the dinner table because Oprah is doing it.
- Apple releases the iSuck. A vacuum cleaner that analyses your household dirt to alert you of any pathogens lurking under your feet.
- 2-girls-1-cup; the musical.
- A young man in England discovers a hidden achievement for Guitar Hero 3 on Xbox Live after his girlfriend smashes his guitar during the 759th performance of ‘Through the Fire and Flames’. He said he was shocked to see “Achievement Unlocked: Owned :p” appear on the screen.
- Humans now cooler than Ninjas and Pirates combined.
- Paris Hilton and Kevin Federline hook up. Oh… Wait, too late.
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