A Good Week

I don't check in here often, but when I do, I actually read any followup comments posted. My favorite cousin says to post more often. Okay, here's a snapshot of the past week. I'll give you the spoiler first: it all comes out very well.

Last Thursday I complained ("complained" is a strong word, let's say "mentioned") to my doctor that I had a persistent pain in my abdomen. He poked and prodded, commented that he was fairly sure it wasn't an ovary thing, and then said calmly that he wanted me to schedule a CAT scan. He didn't say what he suspected, just that he wanted more information. Ominous stuff, really, but I picked up on his relaxed attitude and stifled a girly squeal.

I called the number he gave me and they said the next slot they had open was noon the next day. I said fine. I didn't see the thing that some of you have already seen: a Friday test means waiting through a long, anxious weekend before you find out if anything major is wrong.

Okay, Friday's scan came and went, no big deal. The scanner crew was very professional and, as they scrambled for the giant lead shield, said not to worry about the x-ray bombardment. I liked them. They treated me well. Question: where are you supposed to look as they ease your body into the giant metal donut? I studied the numbers flickering near my face, and made a mental note to look up the terms printed next to the readouts. Of course I didn't remember any of it, so we'll say they fired off 16 million gigajules of gamma radiation. Sounds good.

Sue of course is very supportive through the ensuing weekend, and we focused on her problem, which seemed less profound. Her contract job was coming to an end, and she really LIKED it, so she was bummed. Tuesday would be the last day. She had to find something else.

Oh, somehow I let it slip to Mom that I got this test, so I had the folks all uneasy now, which was really dumb on my part. They passed the unease on to my sister and probably other relations.

I look up CAT scans on Wikipedia and learn the various scary things it looks for. Liver problems. Cancer. Don't get worked up, it's probably nothing. Still, your mind wanders.

Monday, I work. I get a call, someone says my doctor has the results but can't talk right now. Time passes. Mom calls, "What's the result?" "I don't know." "Well call me when you do." Time passes, I call the doc office again, no human interaction, I get the machine.

Early afternoon I finally get the call that nothing noteworthy was found and we're just dealing with a strained muscle. Woohoo! I call Sue and Mom. Woohoo! Sue and I go out right after work and she drives, because I have earned a couple of margaritas.

Tuesday Sue emails me at work and says guess what, the contract job is over but they offered to have me stay on as a regular employee. Woohoo! She was glowing when I saw her at home.

It's been a good week in our household.

Manly Man Stuff

Internet connections here have been very touch n' go lately, more go than touch, I'd say.
So I started thinking about a suspicious frayed bit of cable I'd noticed on the back of the house.
On closer inspection it was very frayed and frankly the rest of the cable line was embarrassed for it.
So I cracked out the handy orange tool box and did a bit of splicing, using some of the 17 billion bits of electronic crap I've allowed to accumulate in the garage. Never let anyone tell you to throw that stuff away.
As I connected the final bit, I heard whoops of joy coming from the direction of Sue's office window.
Her cable TV was working well again.
Upon returning to my office I found a steady internet connection, positively surging with megabytes.
Bits of electrical energy were arcing across my office and spelling "Bob" in the air.
All is well in TV and internet land, and the testosterone is flowing pretty freely.
Now Sue tells me another light has gone out on her car and the lawn needs mowing.
The work never ends for a manly man's man of a man.

ugotpassed

I often see this car in the lot at work. I have no idea whose car it is. Maybe it's somebody I see every day. Evidently, they have strong feelings about passing people. I went to the web site advertised in giant block letters on their car, ugotpassed.com, and it's hard to figure out the point, but you get a little of it if you click the link to the "About Us" page.

Picture: There WAS a picture here. It's gone, you'll have to cope. Anyway, imagine a car with giant lettering saying "ugotpassed.com"

First, meaningless post (they're great later)

Hi, I'm here because I want to comment at someone else's blog on blogspot, and apparently you MUST create your own blog before you're allowed to do that.
So here it is. More (possibly) to come later.