Random Ramblings

Zoë, our youngest kitty, has had a thing for socks since we first brought her home for fostering. She loves leaving them in unexpected places, though in a pinch she'll leave them in entryways and on stairs. This morning I woke up to find out that she had asserted her range once again. She had dragged one of the Christmas stockings (currently on our fireplace stoop) to the entryway to the downstairs bedroom. I left it there since I figured it would amuse Andy. It did, at that, and he also noted that she did it on an auspiciously apt day -- it's exactly six months until Christmas.

This is the first Father's day since my father died. I was wondering if it would be hard, like maybe it would finally hit me that he's gone. Instead I find myself curiously detached. I'm intellectually going over why this may be, this lack of emotion. Possibly because he chose his girlfriend over my sister and me. Possibly because my maternal Grandfather was far more like a Dad to me than my father ever really was. I mean, my father was my dad until I went off to college the first time around, but even in college Grandpa was more of a Dad. I've lived a life and a half beyond the years when my father was a dad. Grandpa walked me down the aisle for my wedding. He adored Andy, whereas my father only stepped outside once to meet Andy, not even inviting him into the garage, let alone the house... or his heart.

I guess the one thing I do feel, though again more intellectually than anything, is a faint notion that there is now no chance of ever re-establishing any relationship with my father. Up until October 8th 2020 (actually October 5th, since we didn't find out about it until three days afterward, so for those three days I still thought there was a chance. Schrödinger's father, of sorts.) there was always that chance. Now there is not.

As anyone who has followed me for any amount of time on Facebook knows, I loathe Facebook. I despise everything it stands for and how it treats it product (read: us). I abhor its invasions of privacy, its stalking tracking of users, its manipulation, the secret-and-therefore-unethical social experiments, the repeated breaches of privacy & trust, and the "sponsored" posts it doesn't bother to identify so that programs like Social Fixer can block them.

Its "curating" of what we see, no matter what we repeatedly tell them, via our settings, what we want to see has caused me real harm. I have missed so many important and/or time sensitive posts. I have failed to comfort friends or family who have lost loved ones because I never saw their post. I have not known the change of status, good or bad, of friends or family because I never saw the post.

As noted above, I use Social Fixer and it helps, but one thing it doesn't do is notify me when friends post. Another problem is the Facebook constantly changes its code to thwart Social Fixer's fixes.

I have lamented the loss of Livejournal, which I cannot use when it is owned by Russian interests due to the Russian government's policies of silencing the LGBTQIA+ community and its persecution of and human rights violations against its citizens.

I miss LJ a lot, especially its comment system, which was the best I've encountered in social media. I miss being able to pay to not see ads. I miss my lifetime subscription that allowed me to personalize it in ways Facebook or Twitter don't allow. And I miss its notifications, something that I've not seen addressed well in any of Facebook's knockoffs, including MeWe.

Fortunately, there is a solution -- Dreamwidth uses LJ's source code and not only kept the best aspects, but improved on them. The problem: even fewer people on Dreamwidth than on LJ in its prime, and nothing like the reach I have on Facebook despite Facebook's best efforts. I have tried, time and again, to revive my Dreamwidth account, but I always end up just resuming regular posting on Facebook.

Today on Twitter a user reminded me of LJ and Dreamwidth, and I've made an executive decision. I'm going to begin posting everything I post on Facebook here, and a link to here on every Facebook post. I'm hoping that my friends and family on Facebook will try Dreamwidth and see what it's like to have an ad-free experience and in general how nice Dreamwidth is, and they'll be encouraged to join. The more people we can get to join, the less of a stranglehold Facebook will have. Also, with any luck, people will join and start posting here, and I'll actually be able to see when they do since Dreamwidth doesn't decide for me what I'll see.

In early June 2004, some ugly political things happened at PACA/AAR, an animal rescue organization. It culminated in a post I made on LiveJournal on 22 July 2004 which not only explained the mess, but introduced our new foster kitty, Sean. I had met Sean at Kitty City, a cage-free area of a local pet store's storage area, and given the sudden life-and-death need for fosters, callicrates and I decided to help out. Sean was the one I picked. He was about 8-10 months old, so I made his birthday officially October 31st 2003, the date as befit an orange cat. The women who had fostered him for part of the time told me she named him "Sean" because it was a good Irish name for a redhead.

Early on we discovered that Sean had a drinking problem. He would wait until someone put a glass of cold water on the floor, then knock it over. Over the years he would do it several times; pretty much whenever we forgot to mention his proclivities to guests or forgot ourselves. I may have told him, as a joke, that he was going back to Kitty City while he was still a foster, but by then he had charmed his way into Andy's heart as well. In October 2004 we switched him to foster-to-adopt and then promptly adopted him.

In Kitty City, Sean had been somewhat shy and was often hiding. The first few days he was at our house he was the same, hiding under the bed when I tried to introduce him to guests. Once he was used to us, he became quite the conversationalist. He was a very expressive kitty, and could talk about many subjects for seemingly infinite amounts of time. He also made a lot of sounds other than, "Meow," leading to one of his nicknames: Our little Wookiee. I would not be surprised if he had been a Wookiee in a former life. One sign that he had grown up was that he grew a mane, and thus also became our little lion.

Another of his endearing qualities was what we called being a knight in shiny armor. For that trick, he would wait until an empty soda sleeve (The "Refrigerator-size" 12-packs) was on the floor, then dash into one end so he his head popped out the other, giving the box an appearance of having an adorable orange face and a floofy orange tail. When not in armor he loved playing fetch, with his ball or string. He would patiently wait for one of us to throw the object, then pick it up and trot back, dropping it near one of us so we could throw it again. After he loved the ball to death he would occasionally play fetch with foil balls, when he wasn't playing soccer with them.

Andy's Dad made us a beautiful headboard for our bed. Sean decided he wanted to be in the Kitty Olympics, and would use the top of the headboard as a balance beam. He also began earning himself the nickname "Sir Prancealot" prancing back and forth on the bathroom sink as we did our morning getting-ready rituals. He always wanted plenty of pettings and praise, and would return the favor with purrs. He loved climbing on Andy's shoulder like a parrot, making him our parrot-lion.

He hated his kitty carrier and would never enter it willingly, though he would sleep on top of it if one of his sisters was in it. He was fascinated with things he could pick up in his mouth and carry around, especially if he could meow while doing so. He had a very loud meow, and it was indescribably funny the way it sounded when muffled by whatever he carried. His most common carries were balls, toy mice, and the air bags which replaced styrafoam peanuts. No matter how long the chain of air bags, he would bring the whole thing in trailing behind him. He did this in the daytime, but especially loved doing it at night. Sometimes he would even leave a mouse on the bed, or drag all the "Air mousies" up onto the bed. We always told him what a brave hunter he was. We never had to worry about mice or air mousies when he was alive.

Although floofy and appearing to be an average-sized kitty with huge paws, under all the fluff he was actually tiny and very light. He was always thin, enough so that every time we took him to the vet for his annual checkup or his asthma, the Tech would note it to the vet. His whiskers were very long; I imagine they were the size he would have been if he'd not been so thin. As far as I could tell, he simply didn't have any particular interest in eating. We tried using a special kitty inhaler for his asthma but he would have none of it. He was super-gentle, never using his claws or biting or scratching, but no matter what we tried, even both holding him, we never did get that mask on his face.

Sean was a very affectionate kitty, though he rarely let me hold him like a teddy lion. He would often sleep on Mount Mommy or Mount Daddy when we were in bed for the night, earning him the nickname of "Mountain lion." He was also a little scamp of a voyeur, though he pretended not to be. He hated going to the Vet, but once there he purred constantly and kissed the Techs and the Vets. He loved being chased, so much so that he would turn around and make sure we caught up to him so he could run away again. After meeting our kitties, especially him, my Sister-In-Law and her Significant Other adopted kitties of their own. He was a favorite of my Mother's and Sister's; Pamela even joked about kidnapping him so he could marry her kitty.

In late June of 2016 I took him to the Vet to get his teeth cleaned, then went on some errands. When I got home the Vet had left several messages on the machine -- they had found something in his nose and he wanted to biopsy it while Sean was still under. Fortunately when I didn't call back he decided to do it anyway. When Sean got home, for the first time ever he his under our bed and would not come out. Andy managed to coax him close enough to pet him, but otherwise he would not interact with us. The next day he finally came out and resumed being his usual affectionate self.

On July 6th, the Vet called back with the verdict. Our little guy had nasal adeno-carcinoma, a particularly virulent cancer with a survival rate often not exceeding four months, once diagnosed. Andy and I had discussed what we would do if he had cancer, and determined that if he did, we would go for palliative care and quality-of-life. When the Vet gave us the news he said that the only thing which could treat the carcinoma was radiation, but that there were no pet radiation services nearby; the nearest was in Colorado. I think he was very relieved when I told him of Andy's and my decision. The radiation would only have bought Sean a few months, and he would have to be in his hated carrier for hated car rides, after which we would let someone hurt him, and he wouldn't know why.

After his diagnosis Sean had a rough patch. We weren't even certain he'd make it for two weeks, let alone four months. I ordered and then expedited a Cuddle Clone for him because we really wanted to see him next to it. By the time it arrived he seemed to be doing better, and we continued to spoil him silly. Then I noticed he could not keep his kibble down. I took him to the Vet again, and the Vet prescribed some high-calorie high-fat gooshy food for him. Although Sean had never seemed to like canned food, he did eat this. At first it was a learning process to figure out when and how to feed him, but eventually we settled in to a routine of putting him in the bedroom (Or closing the bedroom door if his sisters were already there) and letting him eat until he meowed to be let out or he took a nap on the bed. Within a few months he would even let me know when he was hungry.

Despite the prognosis, Sean held on for over a year. As with all cancer patients, he had good stretches and some bad days. I can remember at least two occasions where Andy and I told him it was ok for him to go if he needed, but he bounced back. I started keeping track of when he did his favorite things and when he ate, so we could hopefully notice once he started declining. He had to go in to the Vet several times: once for a antibiotic and a cortisone injection, and the other two just for antibiotics. At those last appointments he was down to six pounds and change, and he was an even six pounds on the very last.

We noticed on around July 24th that he was spending more time just laying still on the bed, especially in the afternoons and evenings. He was still eating in the mornings and playing with his mice and air mousies in the mornings, but by the afternoon he was enervated. We decided to call our usual Vet for potential euthanasia. They no longer did house calls but gave us some numbers to try. We finally went with Lap of Love, a national network of veterinarians with a listing for a local Vet. The Vet came over and did an exam and confirmed our worst fears -- I had been holding out the faint hope that she would say he could live a little longer in hospice, but she said he was ready to go. She injected him with a cocktail of a dissociative, a euphoric, and several painkillers, then waited for him to fall into a gentle sleep. We moved him to the bedroom and spent a long time crying and petting him, and then she gave him the euthanasia. Andy noted how quickly he stopped breathing, and believes he had been holding out for us.

It's taken me this long to be able to type this up. Sean was such an integral part of our lives, and each day we discover new ways in which we miss him. He was so affectionate and silly and soft and sweet. He greeted us at the door like a little puppy might, and when I went out in the mornings to water the tree he would sit and watch me until I came in. Sometimes when I'm loading the dishwasher I still look for the spoon I used to stir his food. Andy even misses how Sean used to sit on his keyboard and manage to get his games into modes he didn't know existed. I want so much to be able to cuddle him like a baby again. Having to let him go devastated us, and we can only hope somewhere he's prancing around with cloud mousies and being hugged and scritched and loved as much as we loved him.


Follow this link for full size Christmas Kitty


Follow this link for full size Find Your Own Spot


Follow this link for full size Sean-In-A-Box


Follow this link for full size Parrot Lion


Follow this link for full size Reality is Fuzzy


Follow this link for full size Sean Portrait

Let's see if it sticks this time.

Whoa. It's been a long time since I posted! A lot has gone on, but I'm posting today in hopes of reaching friends I made playing various Pern-themed MUSHes who aren't on Facebook or who aren't following me there.

After a long hiatus I'm once again playing and, more importantly, working on a new game called Threads of Pern (ToP). ToP is set in late Third Interval with the Fourth Pass about five years away in game time (A year and three months in RL). ToP characters can be the ancestors of their characters on PernMUSH, though they don't have to be. People who never played PernMUSH are welcome, as are those who are new to MUSHing. Because a majority of people who are ToP's intended audience have lives outside of the game, RP will mostly be event-oriented, with most events occurring on weekends. People will be welcome to RP in between, but should not feel obligated to be on all the time.

The game's grand opening is on August 13th, 2016. There will be an off-camera Holder's Conclave to confirm Lexi as Fort's Lady Holder and an on-camera gather to celebrate. People are encouraged to look around as a Guest and/or pcreate before then so they can settle in. There will be some pre-opening mini-events, possibly including a firelizard hatching. The address is whitestar.spundreams.net port 4201. I'm Maz Kanata there (Staff are named after Star Wars characters), so please page me to let me know you saw this on LiveJournal.

If you have not played on MUSHes before and the idea of a text-based online interactive game based on Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series interests you, please contact me and I'll help you get on.

It's been a little over two weeks since surgery, so I had an appointment with the surgeon yesterday. She was happy with the recovery so far. It looks like the skin graft took, and the pathology report was good enough that she has deemed chemo not to be necessary. I am off of the crutches and the boot, though I'll be wearing sandals for a while since normal shoes would chafe the wound area.

A week ago today my podiatrist found out that a growth on my foot was a melanoma. She was so concerned that I know about this that, since I wasn't home when she called and she was leaving the office, she left her cell phone number on the answering machine. When she returned my call later that evening, we decided it best to contact Oncology within my medical provider to see what they believed would be the best option. At that point the podiatrist was figuring she could do the surgery.

On Monday Oncology got back to her. They advised that she contact General Surgery to do the operation and gave her a list of names. One she recognized from our former conversations, so she told me to call the practice. I would find out later that she had called the GS and they had told her that no referral would be necessary.

Side note: I did have an active referral to the same surgeon to consult about my possible mastectomies.

I called GS and explained the situation, and the scheduler said that I needed to talk to Orthopedics/Podiatry since the melanoma was on my foot. She gave me the number, which I called immediately. The very nice scheduler I spoke with there heard "Melanoma" and told me they couldn't do the surgery, and transferred me to the proper office... which happened to be GS. The second scheduler was far more helpful, found the order (We now believe she saw the breast consult referral and thought it was one from the Podiatrist), but she wanted to make sure so sent a message to the nurse who works with the surgeon.

The nurse called back to clarify some things, but she could only find the breast referral. She said she would call the podiatrist to figure things out. I waited around until it was time to leave the house, then I called and gave the folks my cell phone number. I had not previously because I tend not to have me cell phone with me and charged, but in this case I did.

The call must have come while I was driving, because when I got there I had a missed call message, but no voicemail. I called missed number and it was GS, and there were no notes as to who had called. Except that suddenly there was a note that the nurse had called and left a voicemail. As soon as I got off the phone it buzzed, and there was a message. The GS nurse said she'd talked to the podiatrist's nurse, who had told her to disregard the referral until she could talk to the Podiatrist to find out what was going on, and that further communication should be with the podiatrist's nurse.

I did not receive a call from the podiatrist's nurse during the day, or at least if I did she did't leave a message. I tried calling after getting home from The Yarn Store and just caught the nurse, who was very confused because she didn't realize she was supposed to call me. Since the podiatrist had already left for the day, she said she would try to find out on Wednesday what was going on.

On Wednesday I found out that the podiatrist hadnot told anyone to belay the referral, and that there had been no order because when she called GS they had told her none would be needed. I once again called GS and left a message. The GS nurse returned the call and said that the podiatry nurse had just faxed over the pathology report and the GS would look it over on Thursday and would decide if she would do the surgery.

I had a followup appointment from my surgery on January 19th today (Thursday) and the GS office is downstairs from the followup appointment. I went downstairs afterward to see if there was any news. The nurse was with a patient but said the surgeon had not had a chance to look at the pathology report yet.

I finally just got the call from the GP nurse, who has scheduled an appointment with the surgeon next week to discuss the operation. I just hope that this is a pre-surgery consultation and not one to decide if she'll do it at all. And only a week has elapsed since my podiatrist left her cell phone number so I could be informed and get things rolling as soon as possible.

[Updated 30 January 2015 to include the infection and subsequent hospitalization in September.]

Some people have been suggesting I blog, so I'm vaguely looking into reviving this LJ account. A lot has happened since the last post, in April of 2013. With regards to that post -- nope, I didn't win the trip to space. Sniffle.

This is a quick catch-up for those who don't follow me on Facebook. Those who do will probably find this to be quite familiar.

• I'm still married to callicrates. April 11th of 2015 will mark our 17th wedding anniversary.
  
  
• We still have three kitties, in order of age: Heidi, Sean, and Jenny
  
  
• We still live in New Mexico.
  
  
• I've taken up knitting. I actually have a (mostly dormant) knitting blog at spundreams.blogspot.com
  
  
• My sister was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in October 2013 and declared NED in May of 2014, just before her wedding.
  
  
• In September of 2014 I developed a severe infection from a popped blister and landed in the hospital. The infection was brought under control within three days using an end-stage antibiotic. Unfortunately the antibiotic sent me into stage four kidney failure, necessitating another several days in the hospital. The infection left a large wound on my foot which over the next few months split into two smaller and one fairly large wound. My kidneys were declared back to normal in late December and the largest of the wounds on my foot was declared healed in early January of 2015.
  
  
• My sister, my mom, and I all have the same mutation in the BRCA2 gene which means we're at a higher risk for certain types of cancer.
  
  
• Probably most of what I write about, especially in the near future, will be the measures I'm taking with regards to the BRCA2 revelation.
  
  
• Though I may note on Facebook that I've made an entry to LJ, I do not plan on cross-posting from LJ to Facebook.
  
  
• I will try to update my Dreamwidth account in real time as well, but it will be a mirror LJ rather than an independent blog.
  

That's all for now. I may add things to this; if so I will try to remember to note the date of the update in the edit.