We were having some weather when I got home from work tonight, so I went out on the fire escape and up on the roof to get some shots. This one's my favorite. But after all the scary, dark clouds looming and sweeping overhead, it turned out to be a wash. Sound and fury signifying nothing. Some wind and a little bit of rain. But I got some cool shots for my flickr page.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
DRAMA!!!
So today, I got up for work and left, normal as could be. I realized as I approached 175th St. that it was already almost 8:20, so I had missed the earlier bus to NJ and would have to wait for the 8:40. But it was at this point that I started feeling some twinges in my back, and I feared I was having a kidney stone attack.
I went up to wait for the bus, and the pain continued to increase in intensity, so I went back downstairs to sit down in the waiting area. As I sat, it got worse instead of better, so I pulled out my phone to call work and leave a message that I wasn't coming in after all. As I walked back down to the subway, I passed my co-worker Kambra, who wondered why I was going in the wrong direction. I explained that I was in a lot of pain and was heading home so that if I had to go to the doctor, I could go to my own.
Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out that way. The downtown A during rush hour is quite packed, and I squeezed myself into the very last empty seat I could find. I was in agony, and had to sit. There was no way I was going to be able to make the trip standing up. I basically sat there, doubled over, staring at the floor. Which was good, because I'm sure people were staring, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I was shaking, dripping with sweat, and mostly likely white as a sheet.
As we approached 59th St, I came to the horrible realization that I wasn't going to make it home to Brooklyn. It seemed to take forever to get to 59th St, and as soon as we did, I bolted off the train before I succumbed to the nausea. First of all, I didn't want to vomit on this woman's nice shoes (or myself), and second, I know how much I hate when a sick passenger delays the train. So the best thing was to just get off.
I'd always thought there were emergency call buttons on the platforms, but I guess not, because I didn't see anything. I had to stagger up to the booth looking like I don't even know what in order to cut in line and ask the clerk to please call me an ambulance. She ushered me back into the station so I could sit on one of the benches, and called the police. A very lovely woman wearing her nurses scrubs happened by at this moment, and tried to calm me down, and very kindly stayed with me until the policeman arrived. I hope karma does something nice for her very soon.
The cop took my info (as did the token booth clerk), and I endured the pain as I waited for the EMTs. At least the nausea was gone. I was very glad I hadn't eaten breakfast, as I only dry heaved into the garbage can. This was the point at which I found I had a light signal on my cell, so I called Frank to let him know what was going on, and which hospital I would be heading to. I guess I picked a pretty good station to get sick in, because St. Luke's Roosevelt Hospital was only a few blocks away.
I liked my EMT because if I closed my eyes, he sounded like Chris Rock. He also took my information, and they drove me to the hospital. No siren, thank goodness. But hey, my first ride in an ambulance! At the hospital, they managed to get my information and get me a bed in the emergency room surprisingly quickly, but as my pain re-intensified, I really needed some help. I ended up doubled over in agony, and had to pull the curtains open to get some attention. Luckily a doctor saw me first and ordered me up an IV and some pain meds ASAP.
The morphine didn't really do too much, and they had to give me another dose. They weren't very good with the checking in on a regular basis to see how I was doing, I have to admit. Frankie arrived around here, and I was glad to have him there. Oh, and I had to remove the blood pressure cuff, because while I didn't mind it going off on a regular basis, at one point, it just tightened and wouldn't release. So Frankie helped me pull it off because I was losing circulation in my arm!
Turns out they weren't going to do any tests. They just wanted to stabilize my pain and send me home so I can see my regular urologist. So when a couple of interns arrived with a sonogram machine and asked if I would mind letting them practice scanning my kidney, I was all for it. They didn't see anything, though. At least nothing conclusive. No, for that, I had to go home and see my doctor. I called, and the earliest appointment was for tomorrow, but by the time I actually got home, I'd decided to just head over there and see if I could squeeze myself in. Luckily, he had just gotten out of the OR, so my doctor was able to see me, and send me for a CT scan that actually verified what the sonogram had shown, which was a 4-5 mm kidney stone wedged in my ureter. Lovely.
Now we're just hoping that the kidney stone passes on its own so I don't have to go back into the hospital to have anything done. Although my doctor says he'd like me to have the sonic wave thing where they crush the stone with sound waves. I've never had it before, and always wondered about it. But no, I hope it passes on its own. I just had probably one of the most insane days of my life. I don't need another one!
I went up to wait for the bus, and the pain continued to increase in intensity, so I went back downstairs to sit down in the waiting area. As I sat, it got worse instead of better, so I pulled out my phone to call work and leave a message that I wasn't coming in after all. As I walked back down to the subway, I passed my co-worker Kambra, who wondered why I was going in the wrong direction. I explained that I was in a lot of pain and was heading home so that if I had to go to the doctor, I could go to my own.
Unfortunately, things didn't quite work out that way. The downtown A during rush hour is quite packed, and I squeezed myself into the very last empty seat I could find. I was in agony, and had to sit. There was no way I was going to be able to make the trip standing up. I basically sat there, doubled over, staring at the floor. Which was good, because I'm sure people were staring, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I was shaking, dripping with sweat, and mostly likely white as a sheet.
As we approached 59th St, I came to the horrible realization that I wasn't going to make it home to Brooklyn. It seemed to take forever to get to 59th St, and as soon as we did, I bolted off the train before I succumbed to the nausea. First of all, I didn't want to vomit on this woman's nice shoes (or myself), and second, I know how much I hate when a sick passenger delays the train. So the best thing was to just get off.
I'd always thought there were emergency call buttons on the platforms, but I guess not, because I didn't see anything. I had to stagger up to the booth looking like I don't even know what in order to cut in line and ask the clerk to please call me an ambulance. She ushered me back into the station so I could sit on one of the benches, and called the police. A very lovely woman wearing her nurses scrubs happened by at this moment, and tried to calm me down, and very kindly stayed with me until the policeman arrived. I hope karma does something nice for her very soon.
The cop took my info (as did the token booth clerk), and I endured the pain as I waited for the EMTs. At least the nausea was gone. I was very glad I hadn't eaten breakfast, as I only dry heaved into the garbage can. This was the point at which I found I had a light signal on my cell, so I called Frank to let him know what was going on, and which hospital I would be heading to. I guess I picked a pretty good station to get sick in, because St. Luke's Roosevelt Hospital was only a few blocks away.
I liked my EMT because if I closed my eyes, he sounded like Chris Rock. He also took my information, and they drove me to the hospital. No siren, thank goodness. But hey, my first ride in an ambulance! At the hospital, they managed to get my information and get me a bed in the emergency room surprisingly quickly, but as my pain re-intensified, I really needed some help. I ended up doubled over in agony, and had to pull the curtains open to get some attention. Luckily a doctor saw me first and ordered me up an IV and some pain meds ASAP.
The morphine didn't really do too much, and they had to give me another dose. They weren't very good with the checking in on a regular basis to see how I was doing, I have to admit. Frankie arrived around here, and I was glad to have him there. Oh, and I had to remove the blood pressure cuff, because while I didn't mind it going off on a regular basis, at one point, it just tightened and wouldn't release. So Frankie helped me pull it off because I was losing circulation in my arm!
Turns out they weren't going to do any tests. They just wanted to stabilize my pain and send me home so I can see my regular urologist. So when a couple of interns arrived with a sonogram machine and asked if I would mind letting them practice scanning my kidney, I was all for it. They didn't see anything, though. At least nothing conclusive. No, for that, I had to go home and see my doctor. I called, and the earliest appointment was for tomorrow, but by the time I actually got home, I'd decided to just head over there and see if I could squeeze myself in. Luckily, he had just gotten out of the OR, so my doctor was able to see me, and send me for a CT scan that actually verified what the sonogram had shown, which was a 4-5 mm kidney stone wedged in my ureter. Lovely.
Now we're just hoping that the kidney stone passes on its own so I don't have to go back into the hospital to have anything done. Although my doctor says he'd like me to have the sonic wave thing where they crush the stone with sound waves. I've never had it before, and always wondered about it. But no, I hope it passes on its own. I just had probably one of the most insane days of my life. I don't need another one!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
My Niece, The Disco Diva
So I spent the afternoon with my niece, Gabi, and as we were all coming back from the zoo, I she was singing along with the children's songs coming out of the car stereo. You know, stuff like "Do You Know The Muffin Man" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." But then, in between tracks, she busted out with a surprising rendition of a disco classic. So naturally, back at the house, I had to get her to do it again. Enjoy!
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Being Metropolitan
Frankie and I went to the Met today. That's the Metropolitan Museum Of Art, don't ya know. I haven't been in ages. Can't even remember the last time I've been. I really wanted to see the Roman exhibition, and after that, we wandered our way through the Egyptian rooms, then on to Chinese and Japanese art before checking out just a small portion of the European paintings. A little medieval art, then down to rest in front of the tomb, then a quick peek at the small American section and then it was back home again. Phew! And we barely saw half of what was available. Plus, a good chunk of the medieval art section was closed off, and that was the cool part with the armor and whatnot. You can take pictures of the permanent exhibits, but no flash allowed, so some of my shots didn't really come out that well. But you can see them over on my flickr page.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Work In Progress
Well, they're always a work in progress. I never finish anything. Seriously, ask anybody. I saw a co-worker had put up a photo of Debbie Harry that I recognized because it's my favorite photo of her. And also because I had attempted to translate it i
nto a giant painting in college. The actual canvas is a thin cardboard box that measures like, 2'x3' or so. Naturally, I never finished it, but I wanted to post it here so she could see the painting. As you can see, I pretty much only finished the face. The hair is only roughed out. And the jacket is nonexistent. Ah well... I'm including the actual photo for reference here.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Junk Poetry
Sometimes I kind of enjoy the crazy junk E-mails that show up in my inbox. Like the woman who needs my help getting the inheritance her father left her. It's such a shame his business partner betrayed him and killed him, after all. The broken English is such a hoot. So imagine my delight when I opened up one called "simsim" to find a little stream of consciousness poetry following their sales pitch for pirating software. In the interest of furthering artistic expression, I present it to you here in full:
Are you a frequennt visitor of retaiil sooftware stores?
We know what you're overpayiing for:
- box manufactturing
- CD
- saalesperson salary
- Reent of shop spacee
- Year-too-year increasingg taxes in your counttry
Well, what for ?! You're able to downlload evverything legally NOW! Fabulouss range of sooftware and LOW prices will make you smile and save your money! Welcome to [oh no, I won't put the link in here!]
Are you a frequennt visitor of retaiil sooftware stores?
We know what you're overpayiing for:
- box manufactturing
- CD
- saalesperson salary
- Reent of shop spacee
- Year-too-year increasingg taxes in your counttry
Well, what for ?! You're able to downlload evverything legally NOW! Fabulouss range of sooftware and LOW prices will make you smile and save your money! Welcome to [oh no, I won't put the link in here!]
Moreover the rector's righthand man, ready to impedes thee
from the golden round, which fate 'em. I suppose if nathan,
the shipping clerk, mistress remained untouched by them,
being one the fruit which was upon the trees: but as they
o'clock. I hope nothing further has happened. And steered
toward the sound. The game path which he observed, with
a great steam i'll pay you well tents and huts. Manco pointed
to it with an expression before he was down again. Come,
my friend, said it was possible that in its oldspeak formenglish
is not sufficiently honourable for his ambition. Of commerce
in your kingdom. For this kind of oysters parboil'd, and
some cock stones. Fry the of my heart, light of my eyes,
oh, hear thy father's.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
School Spirit
So I had a phone call from NYU last night. The girl started off asking me to confirm my address and ask for an E-mail address, but I knew what she really wanted. I feel bad letting them go on, but I also feel bad that these people have to do this, so I waited until she asked for a donation before I stopped her. She understood that it was hard for recent grads to make donations back to the university, and suggested maybe a smaller amount like $100. Um, a smaller amount would be $25.
She moved to the next talking point on her list, which was to bring up the statistic that apparently only 11% of NYU grads have given gifts, as opposed to other universities, where the percentage is around 40-60%. Well, duh. I mean, first off, NYU cost a fortune, so it's hard to justify giving them even more money, especially since most grads aren't going straight into a high-paying career. Also, NYU isn't the type of school that engenders any kind of community. I never felt any school spirit when I went there, and I don't think many others did, either. The "campus" is just a collection of scattered buildings around Washington Square Park, so it's not like the typical university campus where it creates a microcosm of society, bringing the students together. So without that kind of school loyalty, I'm not surprised they can only get 11% of their graduates to care enough to give back.
Besides that, I've got rent to pay!
She moved to the next talking point on her list, which was to bring up the statistic that apparently only 11% of NYU grads have given gifts, as opposed to other universities, where the percentage is around 40-60%. Well, duh. I mean, first off, NYU cost a fortune, so it's hard to justify giving them even more money, especially since most grads aren't going straight into a high-paying career. Also, NYU isn't the type of school that engenders any kind of community. I never felt any school spirit when I went there, and I don't think many others did, either. The "campus" is just a collection of scattered buildings around Washington Square Park, so it's not like the typical university campus where it creates a microcosm of society, bringing the students together. So without that kind of school loyalty, I'm not surprised they can only get 11% of their graduates to care enough to give back.
Besides that, I've got rent to pay!
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