NYC - the madness

Well hello there.  After we realized the kidney stone wasn't, in fact, going to kill me, we decided to take a mini vacation in NYC.  We've been a handful of times now, and we try to visit about once a year if we can.  Since one of us is from the south and the other is from a little bit o'everywhere, it's always...an experience for us, but never one we've blogged about.

I figured I'd divide the trip up into a few posts, starting with The Madness of It All.  Let's face it, part of Manhattan's charm is its complete cynicism.  You just are NOT going to shock a New Yorker and now I see why.  Anyone who knows us will say that we don't exactly lolly gag about.  We tend to have a purpose (even on vacation) and a schedule and goals (even on vacation).  But I have been almost knocked to the ground by people before who have then yelled at me IN MY FACE for getting in their way.  We've seen people with just teensy weensy shreds of "clothing" on, that left - let's just say - nothing to the imagination.  We've seen celebs and national news anchors and the most obnoxious tourists and the most outrageous locals.  And it's all part of the reason why we love to visit but could never in a billion years live there.

Our pictures fail to capture the true essence, of, say, being on an open top bus tour led by a left-of-left-of center tour guide (if you know what I'm sayin) who intersperses his tour with show tunes, whoops, and YOU GO GIRL!  You can guess which of us loved it and which of us white-knuckled the side of the bus.  But, here are a few pics that we did manage to take:

A small portion of Times Square.  The Sephora store is where the infamous Virgin Records store used to be.  We can sound like Ole Timers and say that we used to shop there.

A day shot of the Square taken from the bleachers people pay thousands of dollars to sit on and watch the ball drop at New Year's.

A night shot.  The lights are so bright it still feels like the day.

This video game ad is bigger than our house.

This would be a Ferris Wheel inside the Toys R Us Store.  There was an unbelievable line to ride it.  There was also an enormous T Rex (from Jurassic Park) that moved and roared loudly at everyone.  Between that, the general hubbub and ALL THE CHITLINS, let's just say we were a tad out of our element.

Typical shot - actually it was a miracle shot taken in between a million taxis.

A "concrete canyon" shot.  More about this later.

The Mickey D's in China Town.  Incidentally, there was also a recurring ad in Times Square for China's main news network.  Um, wow.

Bryant Park, where they have the fashion shows in tents.  Also, as you can see, where the locals go to commune with "nature."  It's the size of a typical southern back yard, people.

A good shot of the top of the bus.  We're in Harlem - very cool.

We didn't take pictures of the Naked Cowboy or the Black Zionist group or the Wall Street Demonstrators or the risque ads or the crazy-looking people.  I mean, we don't want to look like tourists or anything.

G heard somewhere that you lose athletic ability about 5 times faster than you gain it.  Considering that I haven't been to the gym in like weeks and weeks, and then we walked all over the place, I have to agree.  We were walking up some stairs in the NY Public Library and I actually had to stop.  I leaned over against the wall and put my hand over my heart for good measure.  Oh, do I have miles and miles to go to get back into shape.

More to come about the architecture and the arts!

TGIF, people!

Stonewalled

I took several years of French in high school and college.  I had moved passed the proficiency level and could have become fluent.  then I moved to the South Pacific and promptly forgot it all.  The French word for hospital is l'hopital (pronounced LOH-peet-AHL).  Such a pretty word.  Spoken in the demure tone and lilt of a strong French accent, it's lovely.  Not at all indicative of my recent experience, however.

I ask you:  what's the only thing worse than passing a kidney stone?  Answer:  NOT passing one.

What's even worse than not passing a kidney stone?  When your pain meds just stop working altogether.

Long, long story short:  I only thought I passed the stone last week.  Actually, it had simply floated from my kidney into a tube that was wide enough to contain it with only low-grade pain for me.  So I spent the weekend thinking I was recovering, while the stone inched its way toward my bladder, where this tube narrows significantly.

Then it got stuck there.  And all hell broke loose.  I know the physical situation only from hindsight, all I knew in the moment is that I was falling apart.  I just broke down.  The pain meds (narcotics, people) didn't work and with each hour that passed, I got more violently ill.  We went to see my good friends at the ER in the middle of the night and after a couple of hours, they had transferred me to another hospital for admission and surgery.

This past week and a half has been full to the brim.  My cup hath runneth over with pain and with waiting.  Waiting on a stone that won't pass.  Waiting on the pain to ease ever so slightly.  Waiting on the clock to strike the next magical hour when I can take meds.  Waiting (and hoping and praying) for them to actually take effect.  Even when they won't.

Then waiting on doctors.  And nurses.  And hospital administrators.  And paperwork.  And traffic!  And stoplights.  And for rooms to open up.  And for the surgeon to arrive.  And always, always waiting for the meds.

My body feels like a wet towel that has been wrung out until it's just a lumpy, worn out mess.

There are distinct blessings in this.
**Very nice and talented doctors and nurses.  Every one of them I encountered.

**The little janitor who had to clean up my room (she barely spoke English) coming over to my bed with an enormous smile, saying, "You be better now!  Look at you color!"  She places her hands into the prayer steeple position and goes, "I pray for you.  You did not see me because you in pain.  But God help you!"  This from the woman who had to clean up all kinds of stuff after me.  I'm humbled.

**God, who is always with me.  And the Holy Spirit who has been reminding me that we have in Jesus an advocate who has suffered.  Physically, emotionally, in the most acute and painful way.

**Supervisors who have graciously let me miss so much work - who have literally booted me out of the office.

**The warm spread of the meds kicking in (finally, finally) and the pain melting away so smoothly.

**And G.  In sickness and in health, people.  Our interactions were reduced to instances such as G scrutinizing (from afar) my urine sample:  "Hmm.  Looks like it's getting cloudy again.  Hmm.  What's your pain level?  How many cc's of --- did you last take?"
I would croak out some half-formed answer and watch the diagnostic wheels turn.  With a frown and a curt nod, he would disappear for yet another of his private chats with the staff while I faded back into the darkness.
Permit me to shamelessly sound like "that girl" for one moment.  I love that guy.  So much.  He's the only one for me.  And he brought me flowers!  Not just any old thing, but a fall-colored arrangement!  With little harvest wheat touches.  These aren't the best pics, but I put the arrangement close to the bed so I could just look at them and try to find my mental happy place.

On a lighter note, due to a strict (involuntary) vomit routine and then a forced fast pre-operation, I went about 35 hours with no food.  That's approximately 4 months in B time.  Here's my private toast to myself at 3:00 a.m. today when I could have food.

It turns out that while the surgeon was doing the procedure, he took pictures.  I guess they take pictures of everything these days.  And I'm not too proud to show you mine because they look like something taken in deep space.  I guess in a way, they are.  Here's me with my mug shot.

These pics show some of the tears and damage wreaked by Mick, as well as what the stone looked like when they lasered it into bits.  Mercifully (and I mean that from the bottom of my heart), the surgeon removed the stone after he crushed it, thereby sparing me the pain of having to pass now-multiple stones after dealing with this pain for going on 2 weeks.

Now, the doctor will analyze the chemical components of the stone and in a few weeks we'll meet so he can consult me and suggest a specific diet moving forward.  I'm imagining he'll stress the need for more Tex Mex food, specifically chips and salsa.  He may also be concerned about the lack of sugar in my diet.  It might make me feel better to include a variety of cookies and cakes along with my intake of fruits and veggies.  Nothing wrong with a little healthy variety.

As you can see, I'm dedicated to a swift recovery.

Bye Bye Mick!  Bye Bye L'hopital!

Model Mondays: Dreadnaught

This edition of Model Mondays showcases another Dystopian Wars model, the FSA Dreadnaught.

The Dreadnaught is the backbone of my fleet--it has a lot of firepower, and it can throw that firepower a LONG way.  Good anti-aircraft fire, good depth-charges (for use against torpedoes)--it can even ram and sink other vessels.

The model is about 7 inches long, and it took me about two weeks to paint--lots of detail.  The turrets are about the diameter of a dime.

I am aiming for a sort of "raw" look to my Dystopian Wars vessels, so I've painted them to look like there is a lot of bare metal and wood.  The deck planks were painted in a color called U.S. Tactical Tan, and then I gave them a medium Devlan Mud wash to stain them a little darker, and to fill in the gaps between the planks.  The metal hull, paddlewheel guards, turrets, and the bridge are all painted Boltgun Metal.  The paddlewheel guards were the last things to be painted, as that was where I would put my fingers as I was painting the ship.

Comments are always welcome.  Enjoy the pictures!

May the force be with you

The little girly, pinky, princessy force, that is.

Stoned

This week certainly didn't go the way I planned it.  Last Sunday, I woke up with extreme abdominal cramps, out of nowhere.  After about 4 hours they were so bad that G took me to the ER.  I've managed to go my entire life without a single trip to the hospital.  No broken bones, no funky viruses, no emergency situations.  This week more than made up for it, though.

After a few hours in the hospital, their tests never disclosed any problems.  They figured I had some type of weird viral infection somewhere in my "gut" or that it was a case of food poisoning, which G quickly attributed to some chinese scallops I'd eaten over the weekend.  I was relieved that there were no major problems, but I was a little...bothered, too.  It's weird to be in such extreme pain and not be able to point to anything wrong.

Over the course of the next couple of days, I had a residual cramp in the side of my abdomen.  It didn't necessarily get worse, but it never got better.  On Wednesday morning, the cramp got worse and worse until...you got it...ER trip #2.  My carpool buddy M took me and G met us there.  Let me just say that this was by far the most pain I've ever felt.  I couldn't sit still - not even in the middle of the ER waiting room.  I would pace the floor, sit down and rock back and forth, pace again.  There was no relief.

It turns out that I had a kidney stone.  The nurse said it's the worst kind of pain there is, second only to having a baby.  I will not speak of that, since I haven't experienced it, but let me just say that I would have taken an epidural right then and there.  They made me go for quite some time (and I do understand why) without relieving the pain, but as soon as they shot me up, I could see straight again.  I was thinking of every one of my friends who has ever explained an epidural to me.  Let me just say that I get it.  I. Get. It.

I was relieved that we could actually point to the source of all this pain now.  They said it measured less than a grain of sand, but not to worry, that it would, and I quote, "feel about as big as a bowling ball."  Thanks.  That's what I get for having a male nurse.  G named it Mick.  As in Mick Jagger from, yes, the Rolling Stones.  That's what I get for having an insane husband.

I feel like there is a spiritual point to be made here.  About how something so small can wreak havoc so large.  Or about how something almost insignificant can change the course of a life.  Not only mine, but about a dozen or so people around me.  But I'm too exhausted to reach for a deeper meaning.  I can only reach as far as the pain meds and that's it.

The stone is passed now, but due to its barbed shape, it tore nerves and tissues all along the path.  So, although it's left the building, I'm still in quite a bit of pain.  They don't know what caused it and they don't know if this means I'm now prone to getting them.  They say that kidney stones are basically just mineral deposits that build up in one's system - they can be calcium or magnesium or a variety of all kinds of other minerals.  Only time will tell.

GREAT.

Way, way cool

This is, quite possibly, one of the coolest things I've seen in a LONG time.

I don't know what the scale is; I'm guessing something like 1/144, or maybe 1/200.

I think I read somewhere that the whole thing is computer controlled.  The amount of detail is...staggering.

Genius.  Pure genius.  Leave it to the Germans to build something like this.

Make sure you expand this to full-screen size--it's worth it.

Enjoy!