tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-168542492024-02-02T02:40:36.612-05:00Knock on WoodUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-39972931614176427772016-05-17T17:09:00.000-04:002016-05-17T17:09:16.792-04:00#TalesOnRail with Rail Europe .....Or, A Love Letter to Train Travel in Europe <div class="p1">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> I woke up this morning to see that Rail Europe is having a <a href="https://www.raileurope.com/blog/talesonrail/" target="_blank">contest</a> for a chance to travel by train through France and Switzerland. Even more exciting was seeing that as part of the contest, the entry should describe a creative project that I am working on.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> What a fortuitous convergence of so many of my favorite things! I am currently working on a collection of short stories about a writer who travels by train to visit the places in Switzerland where her favorite author was born and raised. I anticipate that my completed project will incorporate photographs as well, and read like a travel essay.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Train travel in Europe is the best way to see things, and Rail Europe is an amazing company that I have utilized before. I can tell you that when your Rail Europe envelope arrives in the mail, your heart swells and your world expands. You know that inside are the tickets that hold the potential for so many possibilities! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAr_C-ZjkxkS1pFFTLEH-GeUqfVNIBXu8KhY273NxgP6o5rQwo5lDjWWSwirqO4XUK4VuLczxLobsyGsaCCSZLWf2-UMiE8NY6JoSLkDtPQ7pGXCD2a-1rdZnlAyXgduhCCfO/s1600/2013-07-02+12.16.31-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAr_C-ZjkxkS1pFFTLEH-GeUqfVNIBXu8KhY273NxgP6o5rQwo5lDjWWSwirqO4XUK4VuLczxLobsyGsaCCSZLWf2-UMiE8NY6JoSLkDtPQ7pGXCD2a-1rdZnlAyXgduhCCfO/s400/2013-07-02+12.16.31-1.jpg" width="390" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Most of my ideas for writing have come from my travels in Switzerland and France. (So many of my classmates can attest to that fact…they are probably tired of my stories about the swans on Lake Geneva or the tales of running through train stations to make a connecting train. But I can’t help it, I love train travel and train stations and the stories, real or imagined, that happen there.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> In addition to generating material for my collection of stories, I would post pictures of my trip and use this opportunity to expand my audience on social media. Particularly when it comes to inspiring travel, social media platforms are a great resource for planning where to go next. It would be fantastic to see my experience through the lens of #TalesOnRail with Rail Europe.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8quTHMIXTJJRM6f_SR9rA-Vy4h1mn7zqMjpPkGud71leOV6ykxwdoQjaTYe-5KoYHb0AGwZDGj2civD4CkRRpBHaMWBf5VQeEyCqwTI0w-eYDxYJV4O4cDlr4m8nVAYGr9AO/s1600/2014-06-26+12.11.45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8quTHMIXTJJRM6f_SR9rA-Vy4h1mn7zqMjpPkGud71leOV6ykxwdoQjaTYe-5KoYHb0AGwZDGj2civD4CkRRpBHaMWBf5VQeEyCqwTI0w-eYDxYJV4O4cDlr4m8nVAYGr9AO/s400/2014-06-26+12.11.45.jpg" width="265" /></span></a><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> I hope you won’t hold it against me that I have already used Rail Europe to travel by train in Switzerland. My previous travels were years ago, and I need to boost my creativity again with a whirlwind train trip. The fact that it coincides with my existing project is even more exciting, and has me ready to see things with a fresh perspective. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I encourage you to head on over to <a href="https://www.raileurope.com/blog/talesonrail/" target="_blank">https://www.raileurope.com/blog/talesonrail/</a> and enter for yourself! This is a chance for all you creative types to spend a week in my favorite place, traveling by my favorite mode of transportation. If I can't be the one to win, I can only hope that whoever wins has their heart captured by this trip and produces an amazing love letter to train travel.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-230525421042148902015-08-06T10:46:00.000-04:002015-08-11T10:49:01.924-04:00Self-imposed Between-Semester Reading List<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I realize that for some people, this is not a lot of reading. Seven books in three months? But for me, it is more “pleasure reading” than I have done in twelve months. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’ll be posting my thoughts on these books each Wednesday (oh my goodness, that sounds like an actual commitment) as part of my goal to read more and write more. I think that writing about what I have read will help me to remember what I have read.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If you see something in the pile you have read and want to talk about it, hit me up.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-61460838702111307632015-07-29T10:00:00.000-04:002015-08-11T10:04:40.121-04:00After Austerlitz<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Last term, I took my first creative writing class. I needed something new because I was burnt out on literature classes and the endless dissection and search for meaning. A creative nonfiction class was available with an excellent professor and it turned out to be a life-changing experience for me. As part of our final assignment, I had to assess what I learned and what I needed to work on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">One of the things that I realized during the class was that I don’t read nearly enough. For someone who is pursuing their masters’ degree in English literature, I am woefully under-read. In the portfolio review that I submitted at the end of term, I explained in a roundabout way why that is:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"I need to read more books. I generally do not read unless it is for class. It’s becoming clear to me that good writing requires good reading. I need to know what’s out there so I can try to emulate a style, or avoid writing something that’s already been written, or just see how people are playing with form. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I tend to avoid reading for two reasons: I am afraid I will accidentally pick up an idea or style from another writer. It’s clear now that’s unavoidable. If I see a style I like, I can try to write that way, or try to figure out what the writer did to make me like the work so much. And there are only so many ideas in the universe: writers are bound to overlap, so I shouldn’t let that stop me. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A few years ago I bought a copy of <i>Creative Nonfiction</i>. All the writing just seemed so self-conscious, as though it were being written to be published. I feel that way about a lot of writing. It sometimes feels like writers are manipulating words in a self-indulgent way, and I know that’s something I want to avoid. Even when I try to read <i>The Best Short Stories of 2009</i> type collections, things seem so forced. But maybe I need to read what I consider bad writing in order to understand what’s going on there as well. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So right now my goal is to read creative nonfiction or even some short stories to just really see what’s out there. First up: <i>Dictee</i> and <i>The Emigrants</i>. I have a feeling that Sebald is definitely in the same vein as what I am trying to accomplish: create more of a feel than a story <i>per se</i>. (Update: yes, we now know I love Sebald.)"</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After handing in my portfolio, I proceeded to devour books. I came to WG Sebald first, because my professor said there was something about one of my pieces that reminded her of <i>The Emigrants</i>. She described the book as “A meandering story with lots of descriptive passages about 4 people who all commit suicide” or something along those lines. Well….that sounded…..intriguing? I’ll discuss <i>The Emigrants</i> in a later piece, but after that book I moved on to <i>Vertigo</i> followed by <i>Austerlitz</i> followed by……well anything I read can now be described as Before <i>Austerlitz</i> or After <i>Austerlitz</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After <i>Austerlitz</i>, other books and authors became a challenge to read. <i>Austerlitz</i>, if it turns out to be your cup of tea, is a haunting and life-changing work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Recommending books to others is a crapshoot. Like music, movies, or television, we all have our own specific tastes. I can’t read a “beach book” or “chick lit” and it’s not because my air quotes indicate a lack of respect for the genres. Any book that makes it to publication has something going for it and an audience for it. I can barely tolerate a “serious novel” but that’s because I have realized over the years that I am a contrarian. Tell me something is good, and I will immediately dislike it. I can’t help myself. But that's another story....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So I send you in search of <i>Austerlitz</i> with a caveat: It’s a good book….<i>to me</i>. That doesn’t mean it’s a good book to you. So peruse a few pages and if it seems like your cup of tea, give it a go. It’s not an easy read, and it’s not a traditional read, but if you find yourself After Austerlitz, welcome.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-23159108445093989522015-04-26T18:23:00.000-04:002015-04-29T12:09:06.505-04:00Lindsey, Livers, and Living<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I've been thinking a lot about <a href="https://iamaliver.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Lindsey</a> lately. May 21st will mark one year since she left us, but her presence still looms large in my mind. Her blog showcased her clear and unique voice. I miss her posting about <a href="https://iamaliver.wordpress.com/2014/01/27/finding-a-plan-b/" target="_blank">life as a liver</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I still can’t read Lindsey’s blog without crying. I didn’t know her, had never met her, and only knew that like me, she had an incurable cancer. And she was so young! Much younger than me. Twenty-six and just finishing grad school. She was vibrant and full of life. Looking at the picture on her blog, you could almost see the possibilities stretched out before her. She was newly diagnosed and knew that the journey before her was challenging, but she didn’t act like cancer was her salvation or her mission or her ruin. She viewed cancer as one aspect of her daily life, and she called herself a liver.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Lindsey had metastatic pancreatic neuroendocrine cancer. Metastatic. It’s such an ominous word, and it’s as bad as it sounds, maybe worse. Metastatic means the cancer has spread beyond its site of origin. Metastatic means you are in no way curable. You won’t be a cancer survivor. You will never be cancer free. You won’t beat this thing. You just have to learn to live with it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Lindsey had metastases in her liver. With neuroendocrine cancer it’s never just one tumor in the liver. And invariably, one of the tumors is located near an important blood vessel, making surgical removal tricky at best, dangerous at worst. Once you have tumors in your liver, that’s it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So how do you live with a ticking time bomb in your liver? How do you go about your daily life? That question is probably unanswerable. Ask fifty people, get fifty different answers. If you were like Lindsey, you lived your life with the sense that you still had plenty of it left. And not in a “positive attitude will get you everywhere” sort of way. A practical, no-nonsense, go about your daily life with all its ups and downs sort of way. She wrote about her frustration when things were challenging. She wrote about her future and saw herself in it. She celebrated her messes and her successes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I first came across Lindsey’s blog when I was crowdfunding to pay for experimental treatment in Europe. She was doing the same, and her blog was different and real and allowed me to feel by proxy. Feeling by proxy. I couldn’t feel emotion about my own condition, but I could look at Lindsey and be moved by hers. We both had all the same treatments. We both had major surgery that palliated our cancer...for a while. We both travelled to Europe for experimental radiation treatment that shrunk our tumors...for a while. We both used a cocktail of off-label oral chemotherapy that worked...until it didn’t. We both tried not to let the disease define us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The first picture I remember of Lindsey she looks so sunny and young. She’s smiling and she looks intelligent and poised and happy. Happy. The last picture I saw of her was taken a few days before she died. She still looked happy. She was in a wheelchair in her wedding dress, with swollen ankles and sunken eyes but still had her sunny smile. She’s surrounded by friends and family on her wedding day. Something in me broke when I saw that picture. Did I see myself in Lindsey like I always had? Was I getting a glimpse of one more thing we would have in common? That picture doesn’t allow me to hide in denial. And it makes me cry every time. I cry for Lindsey, and for everything we’ll never get to be. </span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-14919278093126998992014-12-11T23:55:00.003-05:002014-12-11T23:55:59.899-05:00Yes, I did day 3 of 30 days of Yoga<span style="font-size: large;">On Wednesday I did the 60 minute stability program that I did on Sunday. It went well, and it's nice to see progress so quickly. I initially started off with a Flow sequence, but I was having trouble keeping up with it just five minutes in, so I decided to set myself up for success by repeating the same video I already knew. I'm smart like that. I took today off (today should have been day 4) because I seemed to tweak my shoulder a bit yesterday maybe doing too many planks improperly, or maybe doing the yoga in a pretty cold room. Either way, it seemed prudent to slow down a bit so that I could actually do 30 days of yoga and not injure myself in the first 5 days. Again, I'm smart like that. Tomorrow my plan is to repeat the 30 minute short flow series that I did on day 2. I had to go buy some yoga blocks today because I don't have any and we used them at the studio and they definitely make some poses easier. Okay, that's the update, mostly for myself and not for you because damn it must be boring to read about my yoga.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-584868510070643222014-12-11T23:48:00.000-05:002014-12-11T23:48:29.756-05:00Songs that Got Me Through 2014...<span style="font-size: large;">If you know me, you know that I have pretty bad taste in music. Or more accurately, no taste in music. I don't really listen to anything new, like ever. My standard fare is Steely Dan, America, or pretty much any 70s soft rock. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This year, I somehow branched out a little tiny bit. I guess the other thing you need to know about me is when I discover a new song that I like, I play that song and nothing else, repeatedly. For weeks. And weeks. It's a strange phenomenon. Also to note is that I don't listen to music all that much anyhow. I can't listen to it while I read or write because my brain can't do two things at once. And when I'm in the car I am listening to Howard Stern on Sirius.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All that being said, here are the two songs that I love love LOVED this year. I'm not even saying they're from this year. I just discovered that they existed this year.</span><br />
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The Last Ride is a bonus song from this year. Try not to love it.<br />
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Enjoy the ear worms.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-78805299262259639732014-12-09T23:30:00.002-05:002014-12-09T23:30:40.398-05:00Day 2 of 30 days of YogaWell, I really intended to make the 30 days be IN A ROW. But sadly, I way overdid it on day 1, so I was pretty sore and tired on Day 2. Plus I had class and that threw my whole schedule off. So today was Day 2, even though it should have been Day 3.<br />
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I was pressed for time, and so I picked one of the shorter videos on the <a href="http://www.vergeyogacenter.com/verge-yoga-on-demand.html" target="_blank">Verge On Demand</a> menu. Oooooof. I chose "Verge Simple Flow with Cara" because it was only 38 minutes. It was my first attempt at Flow yoga, and I guess I did okay. I also learned some new positions such as lizard and half pigeon, which were uncomfortable and lovely in the way that only yoga positions can be.<br />
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I was sore and sweaty, but a hot shower and some Advil took care of that. And at least I did it! Woohoo!!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-60415223826207595302014-12-07T15:34:00.002-05:002014-12-07T15:34:30.775-05:0030 days of yogaDay 1<br />
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Well now that the semester is winding down, I have time to do things other than write papers. And I really need to get back into some sort of shape. My muscles are all jellified from all the milkshakes I've been getting at Shake Shack!<br />
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Basically, I'm too out of shape to even try to do yoga in front of other people at this point. No wait, I don't really care about them, but I don't feel like seeing myself in the mirrors at Verge. So I'm doing their yoga on demand for 30 days. Guys, I love Verge and I love their on demand videos available through vimeo.<br />
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Today I did "Verge Stability" with Cara. It was a good starting point for me, as it focused a lot on legs and breezed through the core stuff. Not too many planks. However, my legs are traditionally pretty solid, and this video shows me just how far I've fallen. I was so wobbly and sore. Somebody's gonna sleep good tonight.<br />
<br />
My point in posting here is some sort of accountability, but I also hope to track my progress. And also, I can't emphasize enough how great the on demand is from Verge. I highly recommend it!<br />
<br />
Check it out <a href="http://www.vergeyogacenter.com/verge-yoga-on-demand.html" target="_blank">here!</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-43004052879712141102014-08-09T11:18:00.001-04:002014-08-09T11:18:25.037-04:00Marmot caramelsWhen we were in Chamonix, I saw some cute little souvenir caramels. They had a cute little marmot on the package, and he was eating a caramel. First off, let me say that I have been to Swiss mountain towns twice (or 4 times if you count two different towns on two different trips). I have never once seen or heard a marmot. I'm pretty sure they don't exist. So honestly, the marmot on these caramels was the closest I was going to get to seeing a Marmot in Switzerland.<div><br></div><div>I had the vague notion that these caramels would be some sort of souvenir for someone back home. However, if you know me, you have probably never received a souvenir from me. Everything is so cute that I just end up keeping it for myself. I sometimes give Gavin the Happy Meal toys I get while I'm there, but that's about it. Selfish Kristin strikes again.</div><div><br></div><div>So naturally, I was feeling snacky one evening and decided to bust into the caramels. These caramels are flat. And hard and chewy. Not soft and squishy. And they were oh so delicious. I had a few in my bag when we returned to the states, but I ended up binge-eating them the day after we got back. Damn it. So now I'm on the hunt for these damn marmot caramels. There is no manufacturer on the package. I can find pictures of similar products online, but not a way to order them. </div><div><br></div><div>Online, the trader joe's caramels looked pretty similar and were only $2.99, so I ventured out to check them out this morning. For 3 bucks I can hardly go wrong. Well sadly, they are not flat and square, nor are they hard and chewy. Maaaaaaaybe if I stick them in the fridge they might be okay, but for now the search continues.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_gl6x0zdp51m4J7v4BBX_Z-0cJv35sPV-cOz7FC3g5isw6hd-VGP38KHoXHsNZL1oHbHtddtkCYldCz0zp9gDc3nuO2kb_sJiFmEWE7_r7sQQbWDUgww41f6ZqCYWO5w0d3-/s640/blogger-image--997802695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_gl6x0zdp51m4J7v4BBX_Z-0cJv35sPV-cOz7FC3g5isw6hd-VGP38KHoXHsNZL1oHbHtddtkCYldCz0zp9gDc3nuO2kb_sJiFmEWE7_r7sQQbWDUgww41f6ZqCYWO5w0d3-/s640/blogger-image--997802695.jpg"></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-54788218045269216572014-07-09T00:09:00.000-04:002014-07-09T10:44:14.449-04:00Fight or FlightI have a ridiculous survival instinct. My goal, at any given moment, is to stay alive. It's a genetic gift handed down from prehistoric man. Our genes have one purpose....to pass on our genetic material. In order to do that, you need to stay alive. (I have no actual desire to have kids, but in theory my genes do.)<br />
<br />
While my main goal is to stay alive, there are others whose goal is <i>to live</i>. Do you see the difference there? I'm trying to stay alive, but they're <i>living</i>.<br />
<br />
I'll call them thrillseekers.<br />
<br />
Mountain climbers are among those who I would have to classify as thrillseekers, or livers.<br />
<br />
There's no evolutionary reason to climb a mountain. It makes absolutely no sense from a genetic standpoint. Sure, you could argue that a potential mate might see you as strong and therefore a viable candidate for mating, but that seems like a bit of a stretch.<br />
<br />
Recently, Rod was watching a movie about people climbing K2, and I got sucked in. I'm no thrillseeker, but I do love reading about people who climb mountains. I do not understand why people climb (<i>because it's there</i> isn't really a valid reason for me) but I love watching them do it.<br />
<br />
Last year, we did some hiking on the Eiger Trail. It's hiking, not climbing in any way. But there's a bit of a vertical gain and it's not exactly a walk in the park. About 30 minutes into our hike, I pretty much had a meltdown. It was really hard, and even though I had been training for the hike, nothing had really prepared me for the exhaustion that your muscles feel when you are doing this kind of hiking. (Like, you're looking straight up at where you have to go. It's not a fun sight.) I didn't really know how much further it was, or how much harder it was going to get. I figured if 30 minutes had mentally and physically drained me, I'd probably be better off cutting my losses and just turning around. Better safe than sorry, better to stay alive than risk the unknown. That is how my brain works. At all times.<br />
<br />
Buuuuuuuuuut........I was in Switzerland. At the foot of the world-famous Eiger. On a hike with Rod. And I had been planning this for a few months. So I turned off my instinct to stay alive and decided to <i>live</i> instead. We hiked the 5 miles, ate a quick sandwich and then ran down the mountainside to catch the last train back to Grindelwald. It's one of my favorite memories ever but I still would prefer to read about climbing than do it.<br />
<br />
(For a great read on mountain climbing, check out <i>Into Thin Air</i> by Jon Krakauer. I could not put it down...finished it in a night, which is pretty unusual for me....)<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-24709483657686294482014-05-15T21:36:00.000-04:002014-05-15T21:36:15.966-04:00Why can't there be a middle ground?<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You guys, one week ago today I was complaining about how much I had to do. With 20 pages worth of papers due in a 2 day period, I was <i>so</i> over school. I kept thinking, "this isn't fun. From now on I'm only doing things that are fun. I'm gonna go to Starbucks every day and read books that I want to read and not write any stupid papers." Now, a mere 7 days later, I've had my fill of free time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Why can't there be something between zero and sixty?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last year I graduated and spent the summer "writing my grad school essay." I spent my free time drawing, reading Jung, hiking, running, doing physical therapy for too much hiking and running, traveling, <strike>hanging out with friends</strike>, etc. Maybe I just need a few more weeks to get in the groove of relaxing?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">4 months of school+The Longest Winter Ever+new medication that wipes me out for 18 days every month=a very out of shape Kristin. I did yoga for the first time in 4 months this week and thought I was going to pass out. I think I'm going to pass out every time I do yoga, but this time I almost stepped out of the studio to gather myself. The day after that, I had to keep pace with one of my professors on a walk from Main Hall to Market Street. I was so winded that I could barely carry on a conversation with her. Last year I was probably in the best shape of my life, this year I can see that I am not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm just looking for some middle ground here....</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-33865155424324647262013-11-03T15:04:00.000-05:002013-11-03T15:04:27.142-05:00Newly Diagnosed with Carcinoid? Here's where to start.If you aren't already signed up for the Carcinoid List message board thingy over at ACOR, do it now. Like RIGHT NOW. It can be a lifesaving, game changing thing. The folks on there are carcinoid patients, with issues like yours....yes, people just like you! They can tell you all about their experiences with surgery, PRRT, exams and labs......all the things you are going through. Plus, Dr. Woltering is on there and will answer questions for you.....usually with a yes or no or the shortest answer possible, but still.....an answer from the top doc in the field is always good.<br />
<br />
Here is the link: <a href="http://www.acor.org/" target="_blank">http://www.acor.org/</a><br />
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Just type "carcinoid" in the search box, hit the "search" button and then click on the link for carcinoid cancer and neuroendocrine tumors.<br />
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There are a few more steps but I think you will figure it out! I didn't want to create a second account just for the screen shots.</div>
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What are you waiting for?? Go do it now! And hit me up on here or via email if you have any questions.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-12751834115440630652013-10-29T18:48:00.001-04:002013-10-29T18:48:46.685-04:00Quick update.....<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been a really bad member of the carcinoid community.
It’s not that I’m in denial about my condition; it’s just that when my tumors
act all stable, I figure I might as well not talk about them. I imagine there
will be a day in my future when carcinoid rules the roost again, and I’ll give
him all the attention he needs, but for now I’ve relegated my disease to the
back burner.</div>
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A month ago I went to a carcinoid conference for the first
time since 2011, and I realized just how much I have been neglecting my
disease. Someone asked where my primary was, and although I know where it was,
the terminology to explain it had escaped me. “Ileum, I think?” was my
response. That’s pretty bad. I used to be able to rattle off my entire
diagnosis and treatment in a single (long) breath.</div>
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Being around other carcinoid patients is a great thing for me. I realize I need to get out into our growing community more. I will be attending the New Jersey Carcinoid Cancer Network <a href="http://www.njcarcinoidnetwork.org/html/nj_conference.html" target="_blank">conference</a> this weekend. Looking forward to seeing some other zebras and seeing what they've been up to.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-30123860497843315362013-08-07T00:12:00.000-04:002013-08-07T00:12:39.852-04:00I am not a mountaineer.<span style="font-size: large;">One of the highlights (for me) of our trip was the Matterhorn Museum. I got to learn about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Whymper" target="_blank">Edward Whymper</a> and his success and tragedy on the first ascent of the Matterhorn. I like hiking. But hiking and mountain climbing are two entirely different animals. And that's fine, even according to Whymper: "Others, again, who are not detractors, find mountaineering, as a sport, to be wholly unintelligible. It is not greatly to be wondered at— we are not all constituted alike." (I'm reading and enjoying his book <i>Scrambles Amongst the Alps in the years 1860-69</i> (Kindle Locations 3686-3688).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">At the Matterhorn Museum, I finally learned what bivying is. My brain chose to not process the idea. I looked at a picture of someone in a tent attached to the side of a mountain, and my brain says, "error. does not compute."</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture does not even begin to match the one I saw in the museum. Maybe Rod took a picture. IT'S A TENT ATTACHED TO THE SIDE OF A MOUNTAIN. WHUT?!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Anyhow, you should at least read a little about the first ascent of the Matterhorn. It has a surprise twist at the end!</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-88941053721929305092013-08-05T23:20:00.001-04:002014-05-15T21:46:00.515-04:00Old skool travel journal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Did I just take a vacation to Switzerland? Yes I did. Was there radiation involved? Not that I am aware of.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Rod has had a longtime dream of visiting Zermatt and the Matterhorn. He was there with his family when he was about 3, and his Dad climbed the Matterhorn, and I think he wanted to relive that experience. I tried to encourage him to go to Zermatt last year when we were in Basel, but now I understand why he didn't want to zip down there and zip back. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">First of all, Zermatt is a gorgeous area, and trying to experience it in just one day wold really be a shame. In addition, Rod is a photographer, and if you've ever been anywhere scenic with him and his camera, well...let's just say that you know he needs some time to take 4000 pictures. (Although he did a pretty good job of taking a zillion pictures in our 9 hours in Zurich.)</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The highlight of Rod's trip was two parts: first, climbing to the Hornli hutte, the base camp for a lot of folks climbing the Matterhorn. Secondly, Rod has a picture of his family *somewhere* in Zermatt in 1975. We spent our last night hunting down the spot, thanks to a tip from Andreas at The Bubble (an amazing pub where we ate at lot because they had burgers and nachos. Look, just because I'm an international traveler doesn't make me any less American).</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We were able to track down the general location: right near the back of the Gornegrat train station. Zermatt has changed a LOT since 1975, but the 7 garage bays on the back of the station were pretty unchanged, and we were able to approximately recreate Rod's photo. It was pretty cute.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture would make more sense if I had the 1975 picture as well. Hint hint Rod.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'll try and post some pictures from the trip over the next few days. If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you've already seen a lot, so I'll try to post new stuff here.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-57940779117663531262013-06-11T16:40:00.001-04:002013-06-11T16:42:18.881-04:00Introvert? Yes.<br />
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If you know me, you may think that I am an outgoing person. If you have worked with me, you've seen me interact with customers and co-workers alike, and you've seen that I tend to ham things up a bit. I think it's probably overcompensation for my generally introverted nature. I'm at work and being paid to interact with customers. What customer wants to deal with a shy and quiet cheesemonger? This is not to say that I'm pretending to have a good time. I do (or did?) like being at work. And you'll know when I'm not having a good time at work because I generally say things like "kill me now" or "I'm living the dream today...."</div>
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But this weekend I was reminded that being around people exhausts me. This weekend I went to a conference. A conference filled with like-minded individuals. A hotel filled with people who like the same things that I do. And boy oh boy was it exhausting. People wear me out. I came home the first day, cooked up a bowl of pasta, ate the pasta, and passed out on the couch for 4 hours. I was drained.</div>
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For the second day, I decided I would only attend the afternoon workshops. I got up and had a leisurely breakfast before heading out to catch the 12:04 train to the city. Ten minutes into the train ride I realized that I absolutely did not want to go to the conference again, even though I learned so much on the first day.</div>
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I realized that riding the train (surrounded by people), walking to the hotel (bustling past people), and sitting in ballrooms (surrounded by people) was ultimately going to take a psychological toll on me that I wasn't prepared to pay. So I got off in Ardmore, got an iced mocha, and took the next train back to Paoli. </div>
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In a situation like that, it's hard not to ask "what is wrong with me?!" I kept tabs on the conference via twitter, and though I was sad that I hadn't gone, I was happier to be at home.</div>
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I forgot that I am an introvert at heart, and although I like people interacting with them can be exhausting. And there's nothing wrong with that. I am adding <a href="http://www.thepowerofintroverts.com/" target="_blank">Quiet: The Power of Introverts</a> to my summer reading list and you should check out the website to learn more about how introverts work. It's not that we don't like you, we just don't want to be around you. Or at least not around all of you at once!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-15111992874006940162013-06-04T10:02:00.002-04:002013-06-04T10:11:29.847-04:00Sometimes I deny that I have a disease/Happy Graduation!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well look at that, it's only been six months since my last post. Sheesh. Sorry about that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was busy? Is that a good excuse? School really kept me busy this semester. Being a good student isn't as easy as I make it look. I finally graduated in May with a bachelor's degree in English Literature. Honor Society, departmental awards, all that jazz. The whole family made it down to celebrate and we had a good time with good food of course. Always with the food.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Part of receiving the departmental award for having the highest GPA involved meeting with my department head to give him a little background on me for the blurb that would be read at the awards ceremony. Various biographical questions were asked: where did you go to school before this (too numerous to mention, so let's just pick the one immediately preceding SJU), what honors or awards have you achieved (Honor Society at previous school, Merit Scholarship for current school, two other Honor Societies at current school), what are your favorite authors or literary interests (James Joyce, Marxist and structuralist theory), etc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I called my mom to tell her about meeting with the department head and the things he was going to say. She said "and battling cancer and having surgery and flying back and forth to Switzerland?" I said "eff that." I'm not associating cancer with anything that has to do with getting my degree. My illness didn't hinder my progress, and it didn't help my progress. It was something that was going on concurrently, but to have it mentioned in a speech about my achievement takes any delight away from the achievement itself. It invokes or plays "the cancer card" and I didn't want people to think "ohhhhhhh, she had cancer while she was getting an award, how brave!" or worse yet "she probably just got the award because she had cancer."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I worked my ass for my GPA of 3.86. Worked. It. Off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And of course, I mean no disrespect to my mother in rejecting her suggestion that I mention my disease as part of my bio. It is a part of me, it's not going anywhere. It's metastatic and not curable. And I know that to my family and friends, overcoming the obstacles on my way to the degree is inspiring(?) But I'm not willing to give carcinoid any credit here. I'm not sharing the spotlight with cancer. Eff that.</span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-8707276565700476812013-01-03T10:54:00.001-05:002013-01-03T10:55:10.276-05:00Janudairy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1n-Q-IaVO7drz6YOF2ORMWSWOZwBTvU9GOf83rJpxl8AX-ATXQthdP33WHzOgtnMGv2YdNxu3HNls8cjJt-GUXEMI6ZrBylI8D5ns3CG3HtGgKfrvZtF5NdGsKytlF6tN5dSc/s1600/IMG_6375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1n-Q-IaVO7drz6YOF2ORMWSWOZwBTvU9GOf83rJpxl8AX-ATXQthdP33WHzOgtnMGv2YdNxu3HNls8cjJt-GUXEMI6ZrBylI8D5ns3CG3HtGgKfrvZtF5NdGsKytlF6tN5dSc/s640/IMG_6375.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From my vacation in October.....ahhhhhhhhhhh so relaxing.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh my goodness. I've been a terrible blogger which means if this is your only source of info about me, you have no idea what I've been up to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will do a quick update and then I promise I'll update more as this month goes along. Classes don't start again until January 14th, so I should be able to keep that promise for another 10 days or so.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I finished my third round of PRRT in Basel at the end of September. It was a crazy trip and I was happy to be done with it. In theory, that was my last round, unless/until my disease progresses. I had an MRI in November which shows disease stability/little or no growth. I'm trying to stay realistic and keep my optimism low, because my tumors are super sneaky and do crazy things when I start to feel like things are okay. So good news yes, but let's pretend it's just news.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have an Octreoscan later this month, and hopefully that will show that the tumors are dead/dying/not as active. I will keep you posted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks again to all who supported me in so many ways over the last 12 months. I am so appreciative, even though my radiation brain sometimes forgets to say so.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">xoxo, Kristin</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-64318056374897207632012-11-08T15:40:00.000-05:002012-11-08T15:50:06.303-05:00Obligatory NET Awareness Day post<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The scary side of Carcinoid:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Invariably the patient has a long history of vague abdominal symptoms, a series of visits to his or her primary care practitioner, and referral to a gastroenterologist, often with a misdiagnosis of irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). These symptoms persist with a median latency to correct diagnosis of 9.2 years by which time the tumor has metastasized, causing flushing and diarrhea and progressing on its slow but relentless course until the patient dies."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The quote above is the one that scared me into realizing that this was what I had. The description fit me to a t. Don't wait and be lulled into thinking it's something easy like IBS. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This cancer is real, and although slow growing, it is a killer. Take unexplained symptoms seriously. Don't let a doctor tell you it's IBS. Do your research and get answers. There are good doctors out there who will work with you to find out what is wrong with you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I returned to my shitty primary care physician for the second time in 6 months with the same symptoms and she refused to order a CT scan, and instead ordered a second ultrasound, I WAS OUT OF THERE. You are not stuck with your doctor. There are other doctors in the sea.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The North American Neuroendocrine Tumor Society has some excellent research articles and guidelines for diagnosis and treatment.</span><br />
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<a href="http://nanets.net/research/articles/nanets-guidelines" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">http://nanets.net/research/articles/nanets-guidelines</span></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-87451670635769819502012-10-01T12:12:00.001-04:002012-10-01T12:12:47.362-04:00Oh the place(s) you'll go.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVI_EmeeGRx_5297vqVXoOJECy6kViEsBk0izUxwGa89EliyR9iirmcNKT_FE9KOcBvn0zoKx9NqPIHu_L5cTe3QmBfPiK-z8HTboW_zYd1C-47auFzIPFXkYdiLy6jefA9H1O/s1600/IMG_5800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVI_EmeeGRx_5297vqVXoOJECy6kViEsBk0izUxwGa89EliyR9iirmcNKT_FE9KOcBvn0zoKx9NqPIHu_L5cTe3QmBfPiK-z8HTboW_zYd1C-47auFzIPFXkYdiLy6jefA9H1O/s400/IMG_5800.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Leaving from Philly...still full of energy!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sue gets her potatoes in Basel! </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGStXPKBjHpfSz-9-lWxUd0-nLzRbpw7fQl0KYNHBex302PKczMhzTBCAB9RC7nL9xwGVePCdBaPsc9f9mPDWtzkju76f11uC07un_pjJgqPtfBm5IrksCFWDRxa1LmBDQpmku/s1600/IMG_5897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGStXPKBjHpfSz-9-lWxUd0-nLzRbpw7fQl0KYNHBex302PKczMhzTBCAB9RC7nL9xwGVePCdBaPsc9f9mPDWtzkju76f11uC07un_pjJgqPtfBm5IrksCFWDRxa1LmBDQpmku/s320/IMG_5897.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Things are pretty exciting while we wait for the injection.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1K88mGgIHApZhyjis4k4sLssILL1r4Z1vXqaKyph48R4Q4UKXXvxlrZF7LYFYw80WF-PmoPQQXTOk503acKlzMr8rMNHQYySkuy9fdKwqADfuwMI6skLfTsdA-iMhHg_MnDqf/s1600/IMG_5892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1K88mGgIHApZhyjis4k4sLssILL1r4Z1vXqaKyph48R4Q4UKXXvxlrZF7LYFYw80WF-PmoPQQXTOk503acKlzMr8rMNHQYySkuy9fdKwqADfuwMI6skLfTsdA-iMhHg_MnDqf/s320/IMG_5892.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well at least they put the IV needle in....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN1obcqKKOaTNlx6aqoVARbjPYMdp_ZDbntE4ysEKgmJr0VOyaFuxXvxvke0v6lXA3W_rYbqdS9AS8mw1rEmxyIigkaERzHkII5O9dwjcVWsQHT8DbrlmigMmCCg7zNf5GjDz/s1600/IMG_5865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN1obcqKKOaTNlx6aqoVARbjPYMdp_ZDbntE4ysEKgmJr0VOyaFuxXvxvke0v6lXA3W_rYbqdS9AS8mw1rEmxyIigkaERzHkII5O9dwjcVWsQHT8DbrlmigMmCCg7zNf5GjDz/s320/IMG_5865.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I wanted to buy these to see if they would die in my room after my injection. But I'm pretty sure we know the answer.....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQ0KOzYuBY-GD_RiF4g5TqQKU5YYu3EPz0TfWmWP4rZLbL0OqrSjkjvdaukWQ9BiUOe9cn2KAvK5CuCfnrLPUsMDLLFL3lCN4PcRBbjiEbwJvpNxbZjvIx7fbERBDKj0p1XNN/s1600/IMG_5908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQ0KOzYuBY-GD_RiF4g5TqQKU5YYu3EPz0TfWmWP4rZLbL0OqrSjkjvdaukWQ9BiUOe9cn2KAvK5CuCfnrLPUsMDLLFL3lCN4PcRBbjiEbwJvpNxbZjvIx7fbERBDKj0p1XNN/s320/IMG_5908.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Where the magic happens...</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN1obcqKKOaTNlx6aqoVARbjPYMdp_ZDbntE4ysEKgmJr0VOyaFuxXvxvke0v6lXA3W_rYbqdS9AS8mw1rEmxyIigkaERzHkII5O9dwjcVWsQHT8DbrlmigMmCCg7zNf5GjDz/s1600/IMG_5865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXevDTQ-q-x3kcwrFEDXFaNUoZfNrBaK6k9YFja19OvlbHv3Q9mdfkct5jR9OEcpwpEyUuw0ievNFE5qgCbYjPru6RO-kDontEJESy9_msTut6oUFxl_2wgqf0VUYgFYEzqDEP/s1600/IMG_5850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sue's reaction to hearing that we would be going to a city other than Basel!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's been real, Basel....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Lucerne hotel room. You have no idea how happy this room made us.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsNydbYyizhilqsRmA2NBUEsJdi7154cXK4WHd9UPGnWOE8RnDLBsg1XXyMv6vV60MvIBKOsa45taLETWxejjaR9A-60khbWxB5L7PXejo2zRud9wHlmVrxfYPb9cLNXP-5n2I/s1600/IMG_5965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsNydbYyizhilqsRmA2NBUEsJdi7154cXK4WHd9UPGnWOE8RnDLBsg1XXyMv6vV60MvIBKOsa45taLETWxejjaR9A-60khbWxB5L7PXejo2zRud9wHlmVrxfYPb9cLNXP-5n2I/s400/IMG_5965.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pretty happy, trust me.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFA5XvFd9nT8mXNsJZQE9Wd3DqerA0mdi_967nrU1c8CUuN3pYM94H8I6tmiRvavAMJHwLuParHYFgMl3rd9z_yxwil8pGSTN-_K03CNPEOLO_-KDoxB7yAonl7D0J9dE8ed_X/s1600/DSCN1615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFA5XvFd9nT8mXNsJZQE9Wd3DqerA0mdi_967nrU1c8CUuN3pYM94H8I6tmiRvavAMJHwLuParHYFgMl3rd9z_yxwil8pGSTN-_K03CNPEOLO_-KDoxB7yAonl7D0J9dE8ed_X/s400/DSCN1615.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Something in Lucerne...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi-fArghtaAQpONRtpKN5x6kAqXivtoQ9zNxZQcW0M7JLIz2Le0BSrbqqB7WYpgp1oNQob8PQo7xXLVbXzd69Sfq9kp1nv7L5mxz-W2p7vchSkPlgKc2IWY9UOmMd0z6HVEws-/s1600/DSCN1635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi-fArghtaAQpONRtpKN5x6kAqXivtoQ9zNxZQcW0M7JLIz2Le0BSrbqqB7WYpgp1oNQob8PQo7xXLVbXzd69Sfq9kp1nv7L5mxz-W2p7vchSkPlgKc2IWY9UOmMd0z6HVEws-/s400/DSCN1635.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Chapel Bridge, or as I like to call it "The bridge to Germany in Epcot Center"</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXP28w8HccUllgSp0Rf2Or9jGehxVl3q-lRExwC99uTxGjjuQcprVz2X9oc5fUw0F4RWzf2l-OehWJWPGaOC9GatuoqmSBEKpfD-KPAezVOObiSQlDUFH-Atn1dQuUxMcDNWvp/s1600/DSCN1621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXP28w8HccUllgSp0Rf2Or9jGehxVl3q-lRExwC99uTxGjjuQcprVz2X9oc5fUw0F4RWzf2l-OehWJWPGaOC9GatuoqmSBEKpfD-KPAezVOObiSQlDUFH-Atn1dQuUxMcDNWvp/s400/DSCN1621.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Obligatory "pointing to local tourist attraction" shot</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrp-zrkWNq9UpiDicsdye9Htfh6w1f4Vnhd-A2aalWqgcdg3wU6i7_u2uMWRKFWK4aMZiqAeV4FHFpji-9FrRAhEmPksNR7WY8sOwqabgDY9nA4XR5LRIZXnF3820FmCz7-Nwc/s1600/DSCN1689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrp-zrkWNq9UpiDicsdye9Htfh6w1f4Vnhd-A2aalWqgcdg3wU6i7_u2uMWRKFWK4aMZiqAeV4FHFpji-9FrRAhEmPksNR7WY8sOwqabgDY9nA4XR5LRIZXnF3820FmCz7-Nwc/s400/DSCN1689.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our hotel had a Starbucks and a McDonalds. Just sayin.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6vselBqsPqeQKdrWGM-E16SxDEJKUAMisIw9hQhDPnUUOwDF4_5In0Axu5XAzS_kkbnG7h7IPvthavjiEIFD8M2LwmHQ4mDH2zFfDen2K7Trrx1Gzzi4cwQ3SxAPifpR9Cyb/s1600/DSCN1640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6vselBqsPqeQKdrWGM-E16SxDEJKUAMisIw9hQhDPnUUOwDF4_5In0Axu5XAzS_kkbnG7h7IPvthavjiEIFD8M2LwmHQ4mDH2zFfDen2K7Trrx1Gzzi4cwQ3SxAPifpR9Cyb/s400/DSCN1640.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The restaurant of our dreams, where they served pub food and played Rolling Stones and Red Hot Chili Peppers. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEign-S1aB82dYUslhAjVpHeLvOEaU0kPItcEUYN6emEsW_AEpIjI5RmjiTlx7kC0Iq_mgb150pSweRGc8f3nZ3L3QVY30C3ldPJ6F6aFPg1ASpJSVKHKv7Ss2utJDeBdwJTSDzW/s1600/IMG_5949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEign-S1aB82dYUslhAjVpHeLvOEaU0kPItcEUYN6emEsW_AEpIjI5RmjiTlx7kC0Iq_mgb150pSweRGc8f3nZ3L3QVY30C3ldPJ6F6aFPg1ASpJSVKHKv7Ss2utJDeBdwJTSDzW/s400/IMG_5949.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The meal of our dreams at Mr. Pickwick's Pub</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSeuLTo_cloH3AFnLYC_0vfrXhbJUM1ZaYIWIK3Vzh6VMK5Ulp0Ut33o4Dh1G6jxiH5-A_KOO6sX_FK7KeA3vkI246_qjJOQGvYzTLaMq8CZF2YZlMP3ZfCw-wdZfFiXb7b12/s1600/DSCN1692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSeuLTo_cloH3AFnLYC_0vfrXhbJUM1ZaYIWIK3Vzh6VMK5Ulp0Ut33o4Dh1G6jxiH5-A_KOO6sX_FK7KeA3vkI246_qjJOQGvYzTLaMq8CZF2YZlMP3ZfCw-wdZfFiXb7b12/s400/DSCN1692.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mayhem in the elevator. The put mirrors in the elevators to make them seem bigger. It doesn't work.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyiK0IEFCQEdXHafPhPK3uxVguN-KtXem7bmI0LUIa4DLNIW5I8el-qUi_McOc_gUMyRElKWt8YuWb19cymO0mBRIm_IGHEzd9y_vYBfjE3NkEZBuUeqpG0zpcqf0uJDyDcyC/s1600/IMG_5966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyiK0IEFCQEdXHafPhPK3uxVguN-KtXem7bmI0LUIa4DLNIW5I8el-qUi_McOc_gUMyRElKWt8YuWb19cymO0mBRIm_IGHEzd9y_vYBfjE3NkEZBuUeqpG0zpcqf0uJDyDcyC/s640/IMG_5966.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sue lets us know how she's feeling.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnVvhkk3oZiozLrcYGNE7zUiaoXyyLc9gCGshO_uSs87nQmot-BURo3BJAQhVim2Cevmy16sKUb0tu3xoQSiM1YNGNF_lBYR_momB4e2FMNwbS859qKZzwCZPGDmCPZHko8UX/s1600/IMG_5968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnVvhkk3oZiozLrcYGNE7zUiaoXyyLc9gCGshO_uSs87nQmot-BURo3BJAQhVim2Cevmy16sKUb0tu3xoQSiM1YNGNF_lBYR_momB4e2FMNwbS859qKZzwCZPGDmCPZHko8UX/s400/IMG_5968.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm scared of my two different shades of magenta. The Swiss won't put up with such fashion mistakes.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFF3K2B6AicC6LTUPv-jzQbI8mQj8qoyJioga287GV7eZHdFkaYfFCC-87AoHv_wAgcIlAe49SP9aJh8Mef3fYDBGpdABjcOyga0ihu1CiB7DQq4eHFK35Pp_xVjoZWJe55qEb/s1600/IMG_6014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFF3K2B6AicC6LTUPv-jzQbI8mQj8qoyJioga287GV7eZHdFkaYfFCC-87AoHv_wAgcIlAe49SP9aJh8Mef3fYDBGpdABjcOyga0ihu1CiB7DQq4eHFK35Pp_xVjoZWJe55qEb/s320/IMG_6014.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">ICE</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1Pj02xbDlldksSheImZfrcMu0uSk-mLweORELa-Oj1FI-GYLlUvRl-WyTBduPLpXGeMdE5ciMfLyuGhpIckbKR555zuDVDI2f_m4bYDwJkRmIAf_PqQkfLFU86CjiL3nIL5E/s1600/IMG_6024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1Pj02xbDlldksSheImZfrcMu0uSk-mLweORELa-Oj1FI-GYLlUvRl-WyTBduPLpXGeMdE5ciMfLyuGhpIckbKR555zuDVDI2f_m4bYDwJkRmIAf_PqQkfLFU86CjiL3nIL5E/s400/IMG_6024.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">On the plane in Zurich headed back to Philly. And this face was before the captain said our flight would be 8 hours and 38 minutes. (It's usually around 7+)</span></td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-28372892926513362712012-08-28T02:25:00.001-04:002012-08-28T02:25:29.927-04:00You guessed, it....post op day 6!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Day 6 post op. Almost ready to go. But not quite. Stupid potassium levels kept me there an extra day, I swear. Oy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiVhorcSkVLHaD7HEsxI0tUOIrVjo1-5l_slWXtXpl1Lw6y2Nam6BFZP5LHmOg0kqzHEfknHY9JIYEz_1Bl7zumsvxWJ4PlWnE0OBfJ-CjoVAXcuus-_l4aX4NFx56MEYJxsn/s1600/day+6_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiVhorcSkVLHaD7HEsxI0tUOIrVjo1-5l_slWXtXpl1Lw6y2Nam6BFZP5LHmOg0kqzHEfknHY9JIYEz_1Bl7zumsvxWJ4PlWnE0OBfJ-CjoVAXcuus-_l4aX4NFx56MEYJxsn/s400/day+6_0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-10484912423550253932012-08-27T02:05:00.001-04:002012-08-27T02:05:17.455-04:00Looking back....Post op day 5<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This was Saturday....getting read for the hurricane. They came in Saturday night and moved my roommate out because she swabbed positive for MRSA. Awesome, so very awesome. But, at least I was able to get up and down from the bed and chair!!! And I ate!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-28865856028005414922012-08-25T16:17:00.000-04:002012-08-25T16:17:17.568-04:00Post op day 4...bad dreams!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think this was the day they switched me from morphine to dilaudid. Although it sort of worked on my pain, I could feel my abdominal muscles moving against each other, like when you try to pull apart two socks that have static cling. It was totally gross. The next day I think I went back on morphine. The dilaudid also gave me terrible paranoia, and would put me in a sleep that caused me to wake up suddenly and terrified, like you see in the movies. It would have made me sit straight up, but I was never in a reclined position. I just woke up gasping and glad to be alive.</span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16854249.post-73731409468512872902012-08-24T21:35:00.000-04:002012-08-24T21:36:16.391-04:00"put on pants"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This was post op day #3....Friday the 26th. I really like that Friday's goal was "put on pants." Thursday night was a rough night, with a nurse who came in and reclined my bed into a flat position. I HAD JUST HAD ABDOMINAL SURGERY AND THAT HURTS LIKE HELL. I'm still convinced the one lingering pain I have is from her stupidity. But whatever, she paid for it in having to collect my urine for my 5HIAA sample. When you have an IV and a catheter, you have a lot of urine. Best advice from today's card? "Forget yesterday." Too bad my mom didn't realize how easily I would be forgetting yesterday now that I have radiation brain.</span></div>
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