V's Version

Dani and Queenie connected during long crew 2001. What a treat it has been to have her come stay with us in the redwoods. She just finished her 6th book (this one entailed interviewing former untouchable women in India) and is planning a continental move soon. This morning we drove to the Land of the Medicine Buddhah where she meditated and I walked the dog in the redwoods while Pk was at school. I feel calmer in her presense really. She is so clear when she communicates and so present when she listens. Mmmmm.

The headache is subsiding - the PMS is in and out and I am still hanging on to this cold but I am sure it is on the way out. Just sure of it.

And speaking of being sure - it is official. Pk will once again be home schooling next year. I can feel a palpable relief although I imagine the transition will have it's rough moments - he will certainly miss the daily contact with friends. I am not sure what this means for my art but my guess is that I will not have as much time to create quilts. I will be helping to create something though - an education that is rich and meaningful and fun for Pk. I look forward to it!

Labels: home schooling, lesbians, Queenie

Health: The Good the Bad and the Ugly Mug

There is plenty to celebrate - spring turning to summer sun, connections with family, running doggie dogs, searching for old freinds, learning a new language. I have a charmed life and I am grateful every single day - counting my blessings until I lose my train of thought and have it replaced by either "ooo - look at that bird. I wonder what kind it is?" or "Did I put the laundry in the dryer?" or "I have to remember to fill out that paperwork..."

Dani says that I do not think in a linear way, but rather, I think atomically. So so true.

One of the best things to happen lately, is being able to be healthy enough that people are contacting me for my story - How did I make it? what impact did this/that/the other thing have? I have enjoyed being interviewed and being of service to people with diseases similar to my own. It is profoundly beautiful to me to be able to share.

One of the worst thing to happen lately is feeling so so so not sharp.

In the Formal Form of Non-Violent Communication I could say:

When I cough up mucous from my lungs and blow my nose for the 15th time this morning (observation that could be captured on video), I am weary (feeling or sensation) because my need for health (universal need) is not being met.

Street translation: I feel like crap.

A combination of the chronic on-again / off-again headache, week 2 of the crud cold from elementary school and my hormonal roller coaster ride has me wanting to crawl into bed. I would be in bed right now if it weren't for needing to pick up Pk at school.

In NVC, they say that unmet needs will either resolve themselves with strategies from the individual (thereby becoming a met need to be celebrated) or they won't resolve. (To be clear - I am not requesting strategies.) If needs are unmet, we mourn them. So let us mourn a moment, shall we?

I have complete faith that I will back in a matter of days to celebrate my health so don't you worry. It's not like cancer or scary immune diseases. It's just every day common stuff.

PMS in it's new peri-menapausal form lasts only a couple few days. There is no news on the MRI so I can only assume that that is good news (but I will check just to be sure.) The headaches come and go and probably have something to do with my posture and my eyesight. I am going to Boston to get my eyes checked and I am becoming increasingly aware of my posture so it should resolve. And the cold? Well - it's deep in my lungs and the last few colds that came from school, I just had to wait out.

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In the meantime, I am passing my time waiting for Pk in The Ugly Mug Coffeehouse and looking up old friends on Google. It's been fun. I feel like a sleuth. Thanks for checking in!

So Dani and I were "experiencing" Richard Shaffer's art installation at the Dead Cow Gallery on the new Santa Cruz Art Tour. It was fascinating, dim, candlelit, chock full of moments and discovery and surprises. We were immersed in the conceptual art, loving it and loving each other on our special "date night", when we ran into a former doctor of mine.

Have you ever run into a teacher in the grocery store? I have and it was awkward. I didn't really want to talk about school or homework nor did I really want to get into their personal life. It didn't matter that I had learned a lot in class, I just wanted to buy my bananas and leave.

This situation had the same shuffling of feet and fancy-meeting-you-here feel to it with the added bonus of knowing that if there was anything that would kill a beautiful "I am ALIVE!" art moment - it was talking about my health.

My former doctor introduced me to his date.

"We are engaged!" he announced.

"Oh. Wow. Congratulations."

The fiance/date looked sheepish. "Well - it was a conversation a while ago and now it has kind of defined the relationship."

Silence was followed by some vague health questions which I answered in some vaguely positive way. We talked briefly about how all of us were, coincidentally, learning Marshall Rosenberg's work with communication.

I spaced out a little, wondering how I would exit the conversation gracefully in order to continue experiencing the art installation with my own date. Non-Violent Communication says that when empathy isn't possible, try honesty. I listened to it in my head to see how it might sound.

"I have no interest in your company right now."

No. I did not have it in me to say it so I turned slightly and focused intently on a tiny manuscript sitting on a nearby shelf. The writing of Black Elk painted a metaphorical picture of men as squares and women as circles and the problem with trying to fit the rigid sides of a square into the soft curves of a woman was that....

When I came back into the conversation the doctor was talking about boots. I was confused. Did he want to know about the cool beat-up cowboy boots that I was wearing? No - he was talking about my white go-go boots. I was confused.

"Oh! Those go-go boots! And with a mini skirt?! What I would give to have a picture of those!" he gushed.

In stepped Dani: "I've got all the pictures."

Maybe the best tack, I thought, was to ignore him altogether so I turned to the fiance to discuss the art, the artist, the experience. The doctor was still talking to Dani, now leaning into her.

"I'm your best friend," he conspired repeatedly.

I thought ,"This has got to be over soon." All my NVC practice went out the window. I forgot about feelings, needs and requests. I went straight to strategy - I wanted to get out. I motioned to Dani that I wanted to go but he stepped between us, leaning toward me.

"You are so beautiful.....no - really. You are so hot and sexy!"

Dani was struck silent.

I could not see the fiance.

He was getting way too close.

OK - I was back in NVC. Observations.

I was backing away. He was moving forward.
I felt ? uncomfortable, physically ill, constricted, confused.
I needed what? Safety.

Because I could not come up with a coherent request and I was unable to listen with compassionate ears to whatever his needs might have been in that moment, I did the only thing a normal girl wearing her father's cowboy boots could do: I used the age-old strategy of making astonishing loud retching noises.

I looked and sounded to those around us like I was going to puke all over the art beneath my boots. (What a concept.)

That stopped the "beautiful..blah blah...sexy. blah...gogo...blah...." talk immediately and found the good doctor's attention.

"Observe my face. Does it look relaxed and open? No. Observe the body language - hunched shoulders - curling up to protect myself, backing away. This is what a person looks like when they are uncomfortable," I said.

Dani took my hand and our adrenelin marched us into the back room where we could experience the artist's ideas on war and peace, art and love.

There, mounted on the wall, was a smooth orange-sized hand grenade entombed by concrete and contained neatly within the right angles of the beautiful decaying wood votive box.

The pin on the grenade was, remarkably, still intact.
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Labels: Richard Shaffer art NVC sexual harrassment date funny lesbian conceptual Marshall Rosenberg

MRI Sound Collage: After locking my head into this bad baby they slid me into the machine. I had to close my eyes because I was unable to lubricate with saline-on-demand as I usually do. Keeping the air off my prosthetics (eyes) meant that I could go longer without the lab techs stopping the scan to let me move. It also meant that I experienced the scan mostly blind - which is to say that I felt it and I heard it and made pictures in my head.

A washing machine off kilter: daah duh daah duh daah duh

Then add some of Kim's Native American drummers (except that these drummers were kind of random) : dunk-dunk.....dunk- dunk -dunk......dunk-dunk

Add the woooosh woooosh woooosh of a baby's heartbeat to the background

Then add the high pitch sound of the electric neon coil in Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory: daah duh daah duh daah duh
dunk-dunk.....dunk- dunk -dunk......dunk-dunk
booo-weeeeeeeeeeee

And a crescendo of jackhammers exploded right next to my head: teh-teh-teh-teh-teh-teh-teh-teh-teh-
for what seemed like a very long concert.

Oh yeah. It was kind of like a machine laughing at me:"So you thought you had a headache before you got here?! Bwa-ha-ha-ha! I'll show you headache!" The vice grip around my temples was a nice added bonus to really feeeel the pulse.

And speaking of feeling - all of those sounds came with rhythmic vibrations that were felt by my entire body. It was - ? how shall I put it? stimulating.

The stimulation might have had something to do with the fact that I had to hold the bottle of saline in the easiest place I could without use of my hands (which were at my sides - one holding the little bulb that was my emergency get-me-out-of-here button). After I lay down on the stretcher-type thing, I chose to place the bottle on my dress - which is to say in the triangle of my legs and belly - which is to say between my legs.

The stimulation might have had something to do with the very strong imagination that I have. In order to remain VERY STILL during the scan, I imagined that I was in a scene and this was the newest fun piece of equipment and Dani was requesting that I be VERY STILL until it was over (at which time I was promised rewards - NVC be damned.) I mentioned in passing the thought that the MRI machine belonged in a dungeon in San Jose to the lab tech who is a Christian surfer dude and if he understood me, he didn't say.

When telling Dani about it later, she said "You can make anything fun."

(Digression: I enjoyed that Dani can appreciate this strength in me. But what she said the other morning is even better. I asked: "Honey? Do I scare you?" and she replied without hesitation: "No. Not at all. It's like living with a tiger.")

So the results of the MRI will be ? next week I bet. I'm getting kind of used to this brand of pain although it wears on me sometimes.

Today I thought of (and prayed for) Jo P. in the hospital for her kidneys and Kathleen B. in the hospital after a scare and Dani's Aunt Jackie in the hospital after a fall and Claire from church in the hospital with a broken hip and no word on Joe L. who is due for heart surgery. I'm just so incredibly grateful to be at home - no hospital necessary! Pk stayed home sick from school and we had a blast. Dani and I stay connected through IM and internet and cell while she is in SF for work. I am a lucky, lucky woman and I do not ever forget it.
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Labels: MRI hospitals gratitude funny brain scan head coil

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Labels: iPad MadTV menstruation bleeding period spoof PMS