Happy, happy joy joy!

I just got my new netbook! I was skeptical at first - I have +2 hands of hugeness, but I can type pretty easily and it will go pretty much anywhere. W00t!

Sweet zombie jeebus

I'm sure it would be possible for me to feel shittier than I do right now. In fact, I know I could feel worse - I could have meningitis. But knowing that I could feel worse doesn't make the fact that I feel like crap any better or easier. We've had drama over money, checks, food, booze - everything but the kitchen sink. No, come to think of it, we've had Dishes Not Getting Done Properly dramz, too. So, yeah, drama about everything including the kitchen sink. I know this is an adjustment period for everyone - a woman who's essentially lived on her for thirty years and a couple who rate pretty damn high on the Leave Me The Fuck Alone scale. Add on fraidy cat who runs if you look at him funny and one who thinks the world was made for her to sleep on, and you have a made for sitcom household.

And I still have a sinus infection.

I has a migraine

Okay, a tension headache that acts exactly like a migraine. But it hurts like fuck. I want to eat something, but the thought make my stomach roil. I'm gonna take something for the pain and see if that helps. Getting some effing sleep will probably help, too.

Things that taste better than being thin

Kate Moss has been quoted (link) as saying that nothing tastes better than being skinny. I'm calling shenanigans. There are plenty of things that taste better than being thin:

Potato chips
french onion dip
roast beef sandwiches
black cherry cream soda
dominos pizza
potstickers

Creepy/funny vid

I has intertubes again!

After being cut off in August, we're back up with DSL. Yay!

Because the gods hate my family

A week ago, my grandma fell (luckily she was at moms). She broke her hip, which required surgery. She was just transferred to a nursing home for a few weeks of physical therapy. Now, here's the deal: I've been telling my family for over two years that she needs to have someone living ful time with her, and all I've been getting back is 'oh, she's just fine. don't worry so much.' Now, though, they're actually listening, and hubby and I are officially living downstairs full time. We're moving.

I'm so very easily amused...

And gods know I need a laugh! The Muppets doing 'The Stars and Stripes Forever." Enjoy!

How I wish I had good news

But I've got nothing like that. Dad passed at 1:40PM yesterday. It was, according to Mom and Sis, peaceful and painless. I was in the drive through at McDonalds, waiting for my burgers so I could be late for my counseling appointment. At Hospice. O, the irony.

Memorial will be on Monday. No suits, no ties, Aloha shirts encouraged. I'll give directions for anyone interested over private email. No flowers, please, but we're accepting donations for the family.

End Game

Over the last week, Dad's been getting worse. He started slipping on Father's Day, when he asked me why I was coming over so early - at 5PM. It progressed through non sequitors - telling Mom that the stereo remote also controls the pump to empty the washbasin - on to conviction that he had to go somewhere to claiming that he had to go home (he WOULD NOT believe us when we told him he was home) to not recognizing us to where he is today: in a coma.

This is, I'm told, typical of this kind of situation - going on a trip is how some people frame their coming death, and the coma is, frankly, a blessing for him and for us.

But he's still dying by inches, and there's nothing I can do.

Life Sucks

It really, really does. Mom's about to lose it, i'm getting ready to join her, and Dad is convinced that the remote for the stereo also controls the pump for the washbasin (?!).

I need a rewind button

Just had a horrible conversation with mom - Hubby thinks that we're spending too many nights over there, and now mom thinks she's imposing on us and that we don't really want to help... It's not that we don't want to help, it's that we want to see the inside of our apartment once in awhile! Ugh.

Health Care

I'm lucky. Even though I'm uninsured, I managed to get into a sliding fee program at a local clinic - and the clinic has an amazing discount pharmacy. Admittedly, I see an LPN more than I see a doctor, but my particular LPN/doc combo rock like crazy and I love them. They've both been extremely supportive and caring in a difficult time.

The thing is, not everyone is so lucky. There are millions, if not hundreds of millions, of people in this country who go without even basic care because it's TOO fracking EXPENSIVE! How, exactly, can we claim the US is an enlightened country when people die every day because they can't afford their medication or their insurance company denied a necessary procedure? The system is broken.

Figuring out how to fix it is a little bit above my pay grade, but I've been hearing good things about the program in Massachusetts, where everyone is required to carry health insurance, either through work or through the state, with heavy subsidies for the poor. We have to at least try to get this fixed. If nothing else, so we can look at our collective reflection in the mirror every morning.

Further Observations

• I'm pretty sure I have an ear infection. Yech.
• People are assholes. See the jackass who killed Doctor Tiller, and that nutbar who opened fire at the Holocaust museum. Seriously, misanthropy is working for me right now.
  

Random Observations

• A woodchuck, sunning itself on the deck, looks remarkably like a corpse.
• Swearing very loudly at the thought of having to clean up a dead woodchuck will cause it to wake up.
  
• Said woodchuck, being awakened from its nap, does an amazing, "Dude, you're blocking my sun!" expression.
• Our UPS guy wears brown socks with the company logo on them. Is this part of the uniform?
• Hospice nurses are both perky and touchy-feely. Both of dad's nurses are GREAT, don't get me wrong, but we're not exactly a demonstrative family. The expression on dads face when one of them hugged him was something to behold.
• The Red Wings can't get their personnel where they're supposed to be. They should have hoisted the Cup in Pittsburgh.
  

Sweet!

A guy from my hometown just scored a brillint goal for the Red Wings! And hell, the Wings are ahead and dad's trying to talk - it's a good night!

Now What?

According to Dr Cancer Doctor, if (IF, keep this in mind) Dad's kidneys continue deteriorating, he has two or three weeks. Except she hasn't done a creatinin (sp?) test in a week, since she took him the Metformin. So how the hell do we know his kidneys are actually shutting down? We don't. We won't until we get the results back from the blood draw Dr Cancer Doctor authorized. So. He's either dying sooner or later. It's the 'ifs' that are driving me mad.

I give up

Hauled my ass out of bed at waaaay to fucking early o'clock this morning to see the doc. She confirmed my suspicions: Not only are my sinuses infected, my back is torn to shit, too. Stress turns me into SUCH a fucking klutz! So, I have painkillers and antibiotics and muscle relaxants, along with strict orders to stay the fuck in bed for a couple of days. Luckily, SisterB is home for a few days, and she can stay with mom and dad. Fun times!

Mom is putting off the Hospice discussion - she's trying to work up the nerve to broach the subject with dad. Who, btw, is looking 100% better today than yesterday. He was actually trimming junipers when I got home! he also ate a whole cup of yogurt - might not seem like a lot, but it's more than he's eaten in a good long while.

Well, SHIT

Dad's not doing very well. His kidneys are failing - we thought it might be a reaction to his diabetes meds, but his creatine levels are sky-high after a weekend off the metformin, so... My brother gave me the best advice I've ever gotten last week: Treat every day we have with Dad as a bonus and a blessing, because we don't know how much longer we have. And that's so very, very true. Obsessing over every symptom or change isn't going to do anything but make me sick - it probably already has, I'm pretty sure the headache I've had for a few days is a sinus infection...

On the bright side, BrotherB helped me rewire the power supply on my beloved Monster laptop, and it's working again!

OMG!

I've been a fan of Israeli singer Noa for... Lord and Lady, fifteen years now (I still have the ticket stub from the concert I went to in 1994. I feel old now). She's a dedicated peace activist who performed just before Rabin was assassinated. She and Palestinian artist Mira Awad are Israel's entry into the 2009 Eurovision song contest. I don't pretend to understand the contest - it's not really European Idol, and it's been around forever (ABBA won...). Their song is called 'There Must be Another Way," and Mira was interviewed on... oh, hells, some NPR show, I can't remember. The interviewer said that one of the criticisms of their duet was that it's too optimistic, and she said (paraphrasing somewhat), "I reserve my right to be optimistic!" Anyway, here's the youtube, the song is great:

Death and Taxes

I'm putting this up for any Shakers who live in the Midrealm and might want to meet up at D&T. Maybe I'll get more than three people reading my blog!

A really true story

To break up the doom and gloom, i thought I'd share what happened somewhere around our first anniversary. HubbyB and i got to talking about what we were going to do to celebrate, and I mentioned that it coincided with Cinco de Mayo - a big deal in Denver. He insisted (insisted) that it was on the fourth. We had a good natured disagreement over this until I called my Mom. turns out it was the sixth. We were both wrong.

So, HubbyB and I will have eight years tomorrow. Love ya!

The gods have no fucking sense of proportion

Dad didn't get out of his (outpatient) blood transfusion until midnight. We got him up the stairs, got our books together, and headed to Meijer to grab some food on the Bridge card. Get checked out, and the self scanner machine spits out a receipt for a bout double what our actual order was. The math worked, the time stamp was plausible... Long story short, I got a leeetle bit bitchy at the clerk. When I apologized after checking the balance on our card, she just told me, "Girl, I didn't pay you no mind." We're late night regulars at that particular store, to the point where this clerk comments if she sees us during the day. So very, very glad she wasn't offended.

We get home, hauling our crap up the stairs, and find that grandma's front door is wide open. Had to wake her up to make sure everything was okay. It was. Yay.

So now, it's ass early and we have to go get dad down the steps again because heaven forefend they scedule a decent amount of time between transfusions... The only silver lining in thie particular cloud is that my parents have a memory foam mattress topper. I might actually get some sleep.

You know you're having a bad week when...

You start bawling in front of the UPS guy when he asks how your dad is doing. The UPS guy who works my parents route is great. He's one of the coolest guys I know. And while I wouldn't call him a family friend, exactly, he's cool. And he asked how Dad is, and I started crying. I fucking hate cancer. HATE it.

ETA: Dad's in the hospital AGAIN - outpatient for more blood and platelets. They're not going to look at the bladder infection until after he's through the course of levaquin. So, fun!

LET ME MAKE THIS CLEAR

If you don't like gay marriage, don't marry someone of the same sex.

If you don't like abortion, don't have an abortion.

Gay marriage is not a threat to my marriage. Gay marriage is not a threat to your marriage. Gay marriage is not a threat to anyone except yourself and your own prejudices.

Abortion is not a threat to you. Abortion is not a threat to me, unless I have to have an unsafe one (go ahead and google the number of deaths from unsafe abortions pre Roe V Wade. I'll wait.) Plan B does not threaten you.

In short, stop being asshats and remember what Jefferson said; "I care not if my neighbor has one god or twenty, it neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg."

This is why I love the internet

I just had a brain flash - what if Dad's reaction last night was a rejection of the blood transfusion he got for low white cell count? I did teh googles, and no, it wasn't. Yay!

If only I'd done teh googles when Hubby couldn't string two words together (migraine aura), it would have saved us a trip to the ER!

It's a minefield out there

After Dad finished dry heaving, and after the 'if it gets worse, I don't care what you want, I'm dragging your ass to the ER' conversation (Dad and I are a lot alike - we both sometimes need a kick in the arse to do what needs done), Mom and I played a very relaxing game of Scrabble - relaxing because I won by something like 100 points). I could feel a tension headache lurking in my neck on the drive over, but figured helping the trees grow and getting my arse kicked at Scrabble would help relax me. HA! HA, I say!

So I was a pretty unhappy camper when Mom asked me to go shopping for her and gave me enough money for my xanax and firornal. Target andMeijer were both filled with screeching kids, team member radios squawking, the whole nine yards. To add insult to injury, my blood sugar crashed BIG TIME in the checkout line. Happy fun times! I got some McD's, went home, tried to play some more Scrabble (had to concede when I got something like my fifth round of NO FUCKING VOWELS!). The 'migraine' was so bad that trying to watch numb3rs literally amde me sick. The flickering... Have been alternating fiornal and vikes for a few hours, that's taken the edge off.

I think I'm going to throw up

Literally. Dad's not taking the levaquin so well. Or the levaquin's not taking well to some of the other crap in his system - whichever, he slept until almost five, and has been dry heaving since then, with a hellish nosebleed. We're thinking about bundling him up and dragging him to the ER.

I'm resigning as a member of the human race

Rep Foxx's remarks have spread around the intertubes like so much manure, but I've managed to avoid actually hearing any of it. But watching Rachel Maddow, I caught it. Maddow had Matthew Sheppard's mother as a guest and had enough class to ask Mrs Sheppard for permission to play the clip. I would have added an apology on behalf of the human race, but that's just me.

The perfect storm of homophobic bullshit this week has left me... well, as angry as a person who just lost a good friend and has a father recieving a blood transfusion and levaquin can really be. How can it possibly be any of anyone's business who sleeps with whom, who has what kind of kiny sex with whom, as long as the act are consensual and private?

Some days you're the pigeon...

And today, I'm the statue. Found out day before yesterday that a good SCA friend passed - colon cancer. And today i find out that dad has an infection and low white cell count. He's getting ready for a trandfusion now. Fun.

Note to self

The locally raised, grass fed beef from the local health food store is DIVINE - seriously, some of the best food I've had in awhile. But the swelling throat afterward? Not so great. Evidently what ever the hell I'm allergic to locally got concentrated in that delicious, wonderful beef. Phooey.

Tuesday Update

Dad's been having a lot of weakness/tiredness issues lately. Since he breezed through chemo the last time, we were all kinda terrified that he was either having a bad reaction to the chemo (indicative of a poor prognosis) or the brain tumor were expanding (see previous). He had a regular appointment with the oncologist today, and it turns out he has anemia. Praise Maude! Okay, not so much, because he has to get up arse early to get a blood transfusion tomorrow, but anemia can be fixed. Everything else seems okay, even perpetually gloomy 'if you really think you need treatment' Cancer Doctor Lady seemed pleased, and he gets another round of chemo next week. Remission is looking ever more possible.

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

Comcast interrupted a 2AM showing of the Papal Easter Mass with Girls Gone Wild ads in Pennsylvania. (source)

I'm not sure I can add anything - the funny pretty much flows naturally.

Nerdvana

I just watched the latest Dr Who special. Not quite legally, you understand, but what is law in the face of nerdvana? It really and truly rocked - the former Bionic Woman, Michelle Ryan, was amazing as Lady Christine de Souza, a cat thief with a mysterious past. She held her own with the Doctor, which isn't something any of his previous companions have been able to do. Donna gave him what for, but she was an open book. Christine, on the other hand, has as many secrets as the Doctor. She's also snarky, rude and not even remotely repectful to the good Doc - somelthing I think he needs desperately. There are allusions aplenty to the return of The Master, one of my least favorite Who villans, but all in all, I'm looking forward to the next special later this year.

I <3 Harry Dresden

Just finished the latest Dresden Files Book: Turncoat. It's really quite good, tying up some loose ends from the previous books, while leaving a bunch of mysteries to be solved. My only gripe is that Jim Butcher seems to be vying with Kim Harrison for the Mercedes Lackey Award for Gratuitous Character Torture. I still adore Harry - he's geniunely good guy with a wicked sense of humor and a great bunch of backup characters.

All Hail the Pizza Lord!

The truth hurts

Cheering Fans, Thrilling NCAA Tournament Disgusts BCS Officials

Is it kind of sad that I don't follow college football very much and both know of and deeply hate the BCS system? Because it may not be the stupidest idea ever perpetrated by humankind, it has to rank right up there.

Confession Time

I am a klutz. I regularly bang my legs into objects that I normally avoid without thinking. I trip, I fall, I get really amazing bruise/abrasion combos when trying to separate frozen burgers... Thie list goes on and on. I really need to live on the first floor, because stairs just seem to confound me. I dman near fell down the last three steps tonight after tripping on a shoe.

I have a feeling...

A really, really good feeling. For no particular reason. Dad's still sick, I've stll got not-migraines, etc. But I suddenly feel like a five ton weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Maybe I'm just reacting to the obvious signs of spring - the crocuses, grass growing, having to rakeup all the leaves that were hidden under the snow... It's good feeling.

Moxious!

A rarity for me - a high value triple score in Scrabble against my sister. And it ties into Kingdom of Loathing!

Really good news!

Parents went to the oncologist yesterday, and all his visible tumors have shrunk, one from 5 com to 1.5. The chemo/radiation worked! If the next couple of courses work, remission is a possibility. Small cell isn't curable - but the longer he's around, the better. I'm very, very happy at this news.

Good News?

The 'rents visited an oncologist in Holland to get a second opinion, and were told that not only is remission a possibility, Dad might make it years (note the multiple, she said two or three). I'm not sure how I feel about this - everything I've read indicated that metastatic small cell is one of the most aggressive and hard to treat cancers in existence. But I'm still going to hope...

In related news, Dads white cell count was something like .6 at the beginning of the week - NOT GOOD!! But they did more bloodwork today, and it's up closed to 2. Not normal, and we're not going to let anyone with the sniffles be around him, but better.

Need a laugh?

more animals

Truer than I like to think, most days. Mika has decided that jumping up onto my chest while I'm at the laptop, shoving her ass in my face, then sitting down bewteen me and the monitor is FUN!! Attempts to disabuse her of this notion get derailed when she starts purring like a motorboat.

Conflicted Grief

My father's dying, and we're all having blast. Sounds... odd, yes? And we're not having fun all the time, but dad seems to have decided that snark and sarcasm are going to get him through this, so snark and sarcasm it is. And we're laughing, a lot, maybe because laughing is easier than crying.

A couple of stories:

Dad saw a physical therapist at the cancer center because he hasn't been able to walk for a long time, and he's getting tired of sitting. In her snottiest voice, she responded, "You do know you have cancer, right? It's in your lungs and your brain."

And in his most sarcastic voice (what's left of it) he responded, "Don't forget the ribs!"

The Cancer Center gave Mom a great big waste of paper from LiveStrong, Lance Armstrongs foundation. It's basically Cancer for Dummies, dumbed down quite a bit. They define sadness and what can cause sadness, for fuck's sake! It also says that if you can't express your feelings in words, you should paint them. Sister then went to Dad and told him that if he ever needs to express any feelings, he could paint them. She got flipped off for her troubles. Then Sister's best friend M got in on it. Now my parents have fingerpaints, paper, canvas and squirt guns for dad to shoot people who annoy him.

We're getting by.

I don't get migraines

I get tension headaches that mimic migraines to the extent that the sound of typing this post makes me wince. But they're not migraines! Cheezus god, deliver us from bullshit.

Saw a counselor today, it really helped. Cried a lot, but that's kind of the point. Then I got to haul Grandma Cs slow ass all over town - no, no, I couldn't drop her off at home and get her things, she had to go to the store with me. Nearly fell at least three times, nearly giving me a heart attack each time. Because if she went down, I would too, and i get the feeling that would hurt like fuck.

I hate the whole fucking world

I pulled my back (hoisting grandma C off the ground after she fell), I've had to listen to four different people try to tell me what kind of treatment dad should have - none of the doctors. The next person to suggest a macrobiotic diet will be smacked.

Aunt J decided to give a nice lecture about how dad shouldn't take chemo. Ever. "Remember what happened to MJ!" MJ was a high school friend of Mom's who got leukemia. She had a one in a billion reaction to chemo - words cannot even describe how she suffered. So, yeah, I see where she's coming from. But it NOT HER FUCKING DECISION! Dad's doing chemo and radiation for two reasons: to get his balance back (by shrinking the tumor pressing on his balance center) and to give him a few more months. If he'd decided not to do treatment, or that acupuncture and TCM were for him, we'd support him all the way.

And I saw a guy with a lovely bumpersticker:

If I wanted a bitch, I'd get a dog.

I guess warning the population you're a wankstain and waste of oxygen is actually a god thing, though.

I honestly don't know where this concept keeps coming from, but I keep thinking that there's a 'right way' to deal with this whole thing. Maybe if I find the right combination of feelings, everything will get easier. But there isn't, and there won't be, and accepting that my father is dying is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done. And if I'm lucky, my family and I will come out at the end of this a little bit stronger and more self-aware. But without dad.

When did the gods decree that the oldest has to ask the hard questions? Is this law somewhere? Because asking your already on the edge mother if your dying father has an advance medical directive or a do not resuscitate order wasn't on the top of my personal list of Fun Things to do yesterday.

Chemo yesterday, more chemo and some radiation today. Hopefully dad's one of those who can take chemo, because having him sick(er) and (more) miserable all the time would make mom crazier. She's not sleeping - refuses to take the ambien, in case dad needs her at night. Thinking of insisting that hubby and I stay over until sister gets here for the weekend, because mom really needs to sleep.

Chemo and radiation

Those are things that happen to other people, people you barely know. And now ti's happening to my dad. Officially, the radiation is to shrink some of the tumors in his brain and get some function back. The chemo is to fight the rest - the crap in the lungs and bones. But even with all of this, we're only buying him months.

Dad used to be able to cure me with a wave of his finger, or so I thought. Why can't I do the same?

There's no normal in the grieving process

But why the hell do I keep forgetting that I'm going to lose my father for hours at a time? I feel like I should be wallowing in it all the time, that I should be worried about my mom and about him being in pain, so now I feel guilty about it. And I feel guilty about feeling guilty about not thinking about it. Something's wrong in this picture.

Now What?

I'm kind of floundering - how the hell do you deal with something like this? Is there any way to deal with knowing that you father is going to die, probably sooner rather than later? Any way to stop feeling guilty for not pushing him harder to quit smoking? Or for not making him go to the ER sooner? I just... I just don't know, and I don't think reading (books are normally what I turn to first) is going to help. I'm thinking of going back in to Community Mental Health for counseling, because I"m pretty sure that talking to someone who's not in the middle if all of this will help.

It's bad.

The small cell cancer has a five year survival of 10-15% once it's spread. The median survival time is 10 months, and that's about as much as Dad has if (IF) the treatment works. Wow. I'm trying to deal with the fact that we probably won't have him at Christmas.

Oh, gods.

My dad has cancer. My dad has cancer. Small cell carcinoma, undifferentiated. Metastized into the bones and brain from the lungs. And I'm... can you be numb and terrified at the same time? We don't know the prognosis yet, but the oncologist is coming tomorrow. I'm really, really trying to be optimistic.

Turns out the dizziness wasn't the flu, or anything else it's the fucking cancer, pressing on the balance centers of he brain.

"No tears..."

That's what my dad said today. "No tears, I've had a wonderful life." He hasn't gotten a dignosis, but he's already trying to get us ready for the worst. The docs aren't helping - they're pretty much assuming a positive biopsy result and talking about the oncologist coming in to talk about treatment options.

Mom's friends have been activated - they're going to be coming over to offer support and distraction. And I'm trying to figure what the hell kind of system dad's set up for this eBay thing they have going. There's Auction Wizard, and UPS WorldShip, and eBay itself... my head is spinning and the hospital doesn't have wifi so he can just SHOW ME.

I'm having to play Health Nazi for mom - making sure she eats and sleeps, etc. She's calling her doc (the one who looked at dad and pretty much shrugged - 'I dunno') tomorrow for anti anxiety meds. I've given her an Ambien and hopefully she'll get some sleep tonight. Hopefull I will, too.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln...

Shite day. Found out that a good SCA friend has less than six months - colon cancer. Went over to my parents to find out that dad's in the hospital. He's been sick for awhile, dizzy and nauseus, but they did an MRI and found a spot in his lung. Biopsy tomorrow. Freakout tonight.

Fun with Superbowl ads!

There were some great ones, some so-so ones, and one jaw-droppingly bad one. Telefloa: FAIL!

Why I love my hubby

He just informed me that he put a bunch of people on his ignore list in a chat for making rape jokes.

A haiku upon my grandma's cooking

Stew-induced stupor
Beef melted off the fork
Are worse ways to go

My grandma's beef stew was so amazingly, mind-meltingly good, I felt the need to compose a haiku to honor it.

I has a kitty

And I (and my chair) has a flavor. And the kitteh has gas.

I just died a little

This is... is there a word for 'beyond revolting'? Because this might just be it. Someone (who's going to be paying off this karmic debt for the next few turns of the Wheel) has decided to make a buck off of the tragedy of Caylee Anthony's death. Sick. Just sick.

A PSA

Cipro is EVIL. Do not take it unless you have no other choice. I went to the Oak Street MediCenter on Saturday (1.17) with an ear infection. The doc confirmedit, gave me vicodin and Cipro, and I tottered out. I took three doses. Let me run down my reactions:

1. Insomnia. Not just my normal no sleeping. I took enough vicodin, melatonin, and Tylenol PM to knock out a rhino. NO SLEEP.
2. Anxiety. My anxiety is pretty well controlled at this point. I have some panic due to stress, but that's normal. Hubby found me in bed, tearing at my arm with my nails. This is NOT NORMAL for me!
3. Muscle/ligament/tendon pain. After three doses, I knew damn well that something wasn't right. I call the doc, got a scrip for amoxycillin on Monday, 1.20. My hips were aching a little bit. By Thursday, I could barely walk. Now, I'm not the most athletic bird in the universe, but there's no fucking way that I would go from being able to walk, climb stairs, dance, etc to hobbling around like and arthritic turtle with pain in EVERY FUCKING JOINT. Saw the doc on Thursday, he told me that since I caught the bad reaction early, there's a very good chance the joint damage will heal. Lovely.

I am feeling better, but this drug has an FDA-mandated black box warning about joint damage! It can cause hallucinations, permanant hearing/taste damage, and permanent joint problems. Giving it to someone with no history of resistant ear infections is like using a nuclear bomb to kill a gnat.

Pretties!

WANT!

http://www.starcraft2.com/

http://www.blizzard.com/diablo3/

I loved both of these games. They're very different from each other - StarCraft is real time strategy, Diablo is your basic leave town, kill everything that isn't you RPG. They're bothe vaporware at this point, but the trailers look awesome.