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No matter what one's personal opinion of Michael Jackson, there was no denying that the man had extraordinary talent. I remember with almost vivid clarity the first time I saw the full-length video of Thriller in 1983. My first husband and I were living in a duplex in Taylorsville, Utah when we watched the video, spellbound, on the-then relatively young MTV. I was never a big fan of pop music (leaning toward heavy metal as I do), but there was something electric and mesmerizing about Michael Jackson that has yet to be duplicated by any other musical artist.
It was shocking and very sad to hear about his death yesterday. The tributes, rumors and stories will probably continue for years to come, but no matter what anyone says about Michael Jackson his musical legacy can never be tarnished or taken away.
Why am I not surprised?
My surgery has been postponed temporarily because I've developed yet another infection. Apparently, hip replacement parts are highly susceptible to infection no matter where it is present in the body. If I went ahead with the surgery now, the contagion would travel to my hip and the doctor would have to remove the parts in a second surgery in order for me to be treated for the infection, and then perform a third surgery to put the parts back in again. Thank you, no.
One surgery and hospital stay will probably top $30 thousand, so I'm not keen to have three of them in a row.
It also begs the question: What happens in the future when I get an infection? Say, a year down the road? I've been prone to contagion for most of my life, so it's only a matter of time before another bout sets in. Although I have the infections treated, they always come back with a vengeance. Will I forever be in and out of hospitals having my hip replacement taken in and out because of it until the day I die? Will this be the story of my existence, for chrissakes?
And what's the worst alternative in the long run – the constant pain that makes normal living impossible or the prospect of spending a lot of time in the hospital to endure the same procedure over and over again?
Never fear, I'm not letting the latest round of roadblocks get me down. Rather, they are completely pissing me off. I'm fighting mad and determined to work on my own health solutions at the moment, which is half of the battle.
A longtime solitaire buff, I was surprised by how quickly I took to the hidden object genre. As developers keep generating new games, the more I like them. I especially enjoy the games that incorporate a storyline or take place in a spooky setting.
Although not considered "hidden object" but rather time management, I also like the "foody" games such as Cooking Quest, Go-Go Gourmet, Go-Go Gourmet: Chef of the Year, Gourmania and Mystery Cookbook. By the way, Hell's Kitchen might be a great television show, but the game version stinks.
The first think I look for in a new game is the graphics. Some of them are obviously amateurish, so I tend not to bother with them. One example is the beautiful imagery to be found in Mystery Case Files: Return to Ravenhearst (my favorite) as compared to the meager content in Diner Town Tycoon (which I have never played). The image quality in both is glaringly obvious. I suppose it depends on the individual developer and their skill in creating realistic and lush graphics.
The new games I am currently playing: I am now a member of Big Fish Games so I get the games at a very reasonable price. Anyone can download a game and try it free for one hour with no restrictions, which gives one time to decide if they like a particular game or not. If not, simply uninstall the game. There is never any pressure or high-handed sales tactics.
Last week I strayed from Big Fish and tried Sunset Studio: Love on the High Seas from Game House. I really liked the hidden object game but I'm not willing to pay $19.99 for it. Nor am I interested in becoming a member of Game House where the cost is only $5.99, but with a commitment of purchasing twelve more games in twelve months from them. Hopefully Sunset Studio will be available on Big Fish someday.
Click here for lists of the best and the worst "hidden object" games.
I'm scheduled for hip replacement surgery on Friday, 26 June 2009. I finally found a doctor I'm comfortable with, and one who does not assume he walks on water just because he holds a medical degree. It was a long time in coming.
The most recent x-rays show that my left femoral head has completely collapsed. As those of you who frequent my blog know, the condition was not caused by an accident or by an aging disease, but rather by the prolonged use of prednisone at the direction of several doctors in 1996-1997. The medication was prescribed to treat a severe reaction to hair dye, although it only arrested the symptoms temporarily. None of the dozen doctors I met with back then tried to figure out a long-term solution to the problem.
The continued use of prednisone had the lovely side effect of cutting off the blood supply to my left hip, causing the bone to die (also known as Avascular Necrosis). Had I known what the prednisone was doing to my body, I would have gladly suffered through the chemical rash instead.
The surgery should also correct my severe back pain as well. Because of the deterioration of my left hip bone over the last decade, the left leg is shorter than the right. This has caused a lopsided pull on the left side of my body, creating excruciating back pain in the process.
I am certainly not looking forward to another surgery and hospital stay, but the pain has reached well beyond what I can reasonably endure. Actually, the constant discomfort (to put it mildly) has been ferocious for the last few years so I know the procedure is long overdue.
My inherent dislike of medical procedures and warranted mistrust of doctors has put me off at almost every turn, but I can no longer ignore what it has done to my health and the basic ability to function like a normal person.
Perhaps by the time my birthday rolls around near the end of August, I'll be able to dance a jig on the kitchen table. Not likely, though...
*Note: Hip image from Everyday Health.
My horoscope for the day:
Wrong! I have no interest in connecting romantically, thank you very much.
Before those of you with a pseudo-degree in psychology claim most people want a romantic relationship deep in their hearts, think again.
I am not "most" people.
One of the reasons I will never fly again: Over the years, similar headlines have sent chills down my spine and have made me even more resolute to never board a jet again. I cannot imagine a more terrifying death than knowing you are going to crash and there isn't one thing you can do about it. The worst examples – in terms of terror - are the flights of 9/11.
The last time I flew in an airplane was in 1988, when I took a Continental work-related flight to Miami. If I remember correctly, we switched planes in Atlanta. I was petrified to and from my destination. Those were the days before the ban on smoking, so I puffed a lot of cigarettes and had a few cocktails to boot.
The worst parts of flying are taking off and landing, although the turbulence in between isn't much of a picnic.
I don't like being confined thousands of feet up in the air with a complete stranger (the pilot) at the controls. Being packed like sardines in a can with other people is not my cup of tea, either. The scenario combines two of my worst phobias into one: heights and confined spaces.
Needless to say, when I finally get to Ireland one day it will be aboard a boat. I've already worked it out: Amtrak has a train to New York City, and Holland America's MS Rotterdam travels via Halifax and St. John's/Newfoundland across the Atlantic before arriving in Belfast, Liverpool and Waterford. What a lovely trip that would be.
Someday, somehow…
A few weeks after I lost Foofer in December 2007, Rainee and Kiki came to blows and were hard put to get along thereafter. I mentioned a few of their tussles in the following blog entries:
Oddly enough, the girls co-existed peacefully while Kiki was in heat. But once she was back in her so-called right mind, the hissing, clawing and hysterics would begin anew. I had to keep the two separated at all times, only letting Kiki out of my room for a few hours each night while Rainee stayed behind the closed doors of another.
My beloved Foofer would have never tolerated such behavior. I think he was the calming source between Rainee and Kiki, or rather the dominant figure that brooked no nonsense. One glare from him would have definitely put a stop to Kiki's feline foolishness.
One might assume Kiki would realize being "cordoned off" on a daily basis was the very result of her psychotic antics. It only took a year-and-a-half, but I think the day has finally arrived (knock on wood).
About two weeks ago Kiki went out of heat. A few days later she acted as if she were going into heat again, so I let her loose. However, the loving behavior associated with the heat wasn't consistent. One minute she was rolling around on her back with that particular glazed look in her eyes, and the next she was racing around the halls and up and down the stairs like normal.
I decided to take a chance and let her remain free in the house. She's not in heat, but so far her conduct has been nearly impeccable. She has odd moments here and there where she stares at Rainee intently, but then she goes about her business. Maybe she finally equated bad behavior with being confined. Whatever the case, I'm simply counting my blessings – as is Rainee.
A few days from now I might be saying I spoke too soon, but for now I'm enjoying the peace and semi-tranquility.
My darling Foofer would be proud.
>POSTSCRIPT Wednesday, 3 June 2009: The fur finally hit the fan. Rainee and Kiki got into a tussle this morning - out of the blue, no provocation - and I was stuck in the middle. I have a bloody scratch across my knee. After Kiki dashed under the bed she reached out her paw in full swipe and nailed me on the top of my foot, hissing all the while. I knew it was too good to last. :(
>POSTSCRIPT Sunday, 7 June 2009: Kiki is loose again, we'll see how it goes...
>POSTSCRIPT Monday, 8 June 2009: Kiki is still on the loose without incident. Rainee slept with me last night, but around five o'clock this morning Kiki strolled in and started clawing the back of my office chair. I yelled at her, so she raced off down the hall making her freaky "chirping" sounds. She is truly psychotic, but as long as the fur doesn't fly between her and Rainee, I don't mind.
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