Please excuse the whine

I don't wanna sing tonight, I just wanna go to bed. Which is ridiculous, since all month I've been really, really sad at the thought of not being able to participate in my choir concert. And now, it's in about three hours, and I don't want to go. I've been to almost all the rehearsals, and sat through weeks of being there and NOT being able to sing, and now that I have about 90 percent use of my voice, I'd just like to be quiet, please. Preferably in my bed, surrounded by my squishy yet uncomfortable pillows.

My neck and shoulders hurt, my right leg is sore, I seem to be sprouting a small skin irritation on my thigh, and I just feel icky. The Kaiser nurse says I shouldn't worry unless I develop a fever or severe headache or sore throat. But what if my head snaps off of my shoulders? She didn't account for that.

Probably the only person to ever SNEAK steroids into a baseball stadium

I went to a Giants game last night. I'm a day away from finishing my 10-day course of steroids to reduce the inflammation in my throat, and I need to take the little white pills with dinner. And I ate dinner at the ball park. So I hid the pill bottle in my backpack and snuck it inside. Granted, security's not that tight, and nobody really searched my bag, but I felt as though I was participating in a clandestine activity.

I'm thinking the cream and the clear were much more widely displayed when they entered the stadium.

Since it's been a few days, I thought I'd pass on a health update. My throat feels better, and the steroids have worked wonderfully to shrink my swollen tonsil. I swear it's easier to breath and talk now than it's been in years.

However, whatever ick has impacted my neck has yet to abate. I'm sore and stiff and in a considerable amount of discomfort, though it's much better than the other day, when I couldn't lift my head off my pillow. Only now, in addition to my neck, the inside of one thigh is really sore and a little bruised almost. But I don't recall running into anything recently that would cause such pain.

I think my body is falling apart in sections. Stay tuned for next week. I might just lose an appendage.

One last shout out to the Dallas bound

Brian's leaving for Dallas today. San Francisco will miss him, but his cowboy boots are pretty excited to be permanently returned to Texas soil.

A cardinal rule of dating

When going to an event with the intent of passing on your number, and perhaps getting somebody's number in return, remember to bring a pen.

Thanks to Steph E. for her role in developing this very important rule of dating. Because, really, two girls on bar stools rummaging through their bags for pens probably don't look too cool. Even if we were the best conversationalists at the bar.

A super birthday shout out to the last of the dirty thirty

Catherine turns 30 today, horray! She also starts grad school today. It's a big day, and if she were at all connected to the blogosphere, I'm sure she'd pop over to share some stories of her birthday bash. But since she doesn't seem to believe in the Internet right now, she's just going to have to settle for virtual birthday cake.

On three, let's see if we can set the cake on fire.

Graduation

After 10 months of early morning physical therapy sessions, and hours of weight lifting in the gym, this morning I graduated from knee physical therapy.

I still have work to do, but I'm far enough along to be self-sufficient. I'll miss my physical therapist, as she's awesome, but I'm pretty happy. I might even celebrate with a whirl around the dance floor at the Tonga Room this evening. Barefoot, of course, to avoid any shoe-related mishaps.

As seen on O'Farrell St. from the 38 Geary Bus

A cop frisking, cuffing, and arresting an older, scruffy looking guy. At about 8:30 this morning. I'm pretty sure the cop pulled drugs out of the guy's pockets before slapping on the handcuffs.

Be careful out there.

A brief outbreak of MUNI singing

I was listening to some enjoyable tunes while waiting for the bus this morning, and started singing along. This is very exciting for the girl who hasn't been able to sing in almost a month. So there I was, enjoying the decent acoustics of the empty bus shelter, when I caught air. And then started to cough. And then swallowed my half-dissolved throat lozenge. Perhaps I need to practice a little more before I go to rehearsal tonight.

Disinfecting, one germ at a time

Since my healthy living habits haven't helped cure me, I've decided to take a different tack: major disinfecting of my apartment. I've washed everything in the hottest possible washing machine cycle, I've bought new pillows, and I've tossed all my possibly infected makeup.

My normally clean apartment shines, and the smell of bleach is enough to keep all germs away, at least for the next few weeks. I'm cautious, but perhaps victory will soon be mine.

Human Petri Dish

I've gotten two clean bills of health this week. I don't smoke or do drugs. I exercise and eat well and take my vitamins and only drink in moderation. I always wash my hands as soon as I get off the bus. I EAT SPINACH, FOR PETE'S SAKE!

And this morning, I woke up with an eye infection. IN BOTH EYES, though the left one is much more irritated than the right.

F**K.

The Kaiser advice nurse diagnosed me over the phone, and my eye drops prescription should be ready before lunch. And in a few days I can buy new mascara. So I guess there's a small bright side.

I'm off to fester now. Maybe next I'll get a sinus infection. I've never had one of those before.

Another edition of the Fr. Francis occasional electronic quote board

On discussing the image of God as shepherd:
"I kind of like that. I kind of liking thinking of myself as a fuzzy little sheep."

On the image of God as The Vine:
"And we're the branches. I like to think of myself as a big, ripe grape on one of those branches. My mother says I'm a little overripe right now."

As seen in the Tenderloin from the 38 Bus

A man walking down Geary St. with a 16-inch long lizard perched on his shoulder. I think I prefer the man in the Sunset, who walks about with his pet parrot sitting on his shoulder.

I have beautiful vocal chords

My appointment this afternoon was an unqualified success! My tonsils can stay in my mouth, my vocal chords are in terrific shape (and beautiful too), and my nose is in perfect working condition.

Here comes the rather descriptive part of the medical procedure - squeamish ones, beware.

It was only momentarily uncomfortable when the doctor propped open my nose and sprayed a numbing agent through my nose into my mouth, so that he could insert a tube attached to a camera down my nose, and along the back of my throat to check out my vocal chords.

But once I was numb, everything was fine. And, more importantly, everything is healthy. And with some drugs to bring down the swelling in my throat caused by the virus I had a few weeks ago, I should be able to return to normal talking and singing soon.

But for the rest of the day, I need to be quiet. The numbing spray is starting to wear off, and my throat's a little scratchy from the camera and the tube.

Beating the system

I made an appointment last week to see an ear, nose, and throat doctor for my voice and tonsil issues, but the earliest slot they had available was Aug. 30, the day I leave for NY. I took the next available, Sept.4 , and vowed to call back for an earlier appointment.

I called back this morning, and there was still nothing earlier. Then I explained my quandary: I have to visit my dad at the end of the month, and he has cancer and his immune system is suppressed. I need to make sure I'm not infectious, because if I am, I need to cancel my trip.

The scheduler put me on hold for a few minutes, then came back to the phone. I have an appointment today at 2 pm.

Sometimes stretching the truth a little can get you exactly what you need. Thanks dad!

I am a yoga failure

I took my first ever yoga class on Saturday. I wanted to try something new, and I figured, since lots of my friends worship at the yoga mat, I might get something out of it too.

And I did: sore wrists, achy shoulders, and the sad message that my bones are structurally not made to do yoga. Seriously. At one point in the class, the teacher (who was fantastic!) pulled me to the front of the room to demonstrate how the bones in my hand are just not formed in such a way as to allow me to comfortably do any position that would involve balancing on my hands.

No handstands for me. Actually, the two hour class did teach me some important things. I've succeeded in becoming pretty strong in the past year (horray for swimming!) but I really don't have the type of focus you need to practice yoga. I just kept getting frustrated and distracted. I definitely need more active forms of exercise. But I learned some great stretches, and learned how to do some others properly, so I'll be incorporating them into my workouts.

And today I'll be going back to the pool.

Tonsils

My tonsils have been routinely infected since I was about 7. For the past 15 or so years, one is perpetually swollen. During my doctor's visit today, in addition to getting the ball rolling on figuring out why it hurts to talk, we chatted at length about my tonsils. And she wants to have them removed.

I must be the nation's oldest tonsilectimy patient.

But, if the tonsils are what's causing so many sore throats (I'm over half a dozen so far this year), then it's time to yank the suckers out. And residual throat infection could be one of the factors causing my current talking problem, though my doctor thinks I could also have overdone it with lots of talking and singing lately.

The verdict won't be in until another appointment in early September. But I might have lots of ice cream in my future.

Deep thoughts

I'm waiting at the corner to cross the street; waiting for the light to change. I'm on my way to St. Dominic's. There's a guy on the opposite corner, also appearing to wait for the light to change.

The light changes. I cross the street. The guy's still on the corner, and as I pass him, he starts yelling:

"If we all obeyed all the laws in the land, there would be no need for Jesus Christ!"

So what does this mean? Should I embrace anarchy and go to church (where I was headed anyway. Hello, talk about preaching to the choir)? Or should I become a more law abiding citizen and forgo church?

Day 2, when your intrepid silent blogger learns that not talking can be really, really hard

I haven't done too well on keeping silent today, mostly because when my choices came down to talking to a friend or cancelling our lunch plans, I chose to talk. Minimally, as she had lots to say anyway, and is quite sympathetic of my plight, but I still used my voice more today than yesterday.

However, I'm approaching the end of the day, and while my while neck and throat feel a little strained, nothing is actually sore. That's a big improvement. Anybody know how to stretch and ice voice muscles?

Silence is Golden, Day 1

This whole limited-talking thing has gone very well today. It's the end of the day, my voice isn't tired, and my throat isn't sore. Mission accomplished, except for the silly co-worker who, after I sent an email explaining my throat issue, kept asking me questions about why I wasn't talking. And she expected me to answer them. Silly, silly girl.

On Silence

I'm not sure what the problem is - lingering throat irritation from my bug, vocal overuse during the coffeehouse performances (and all the rehearsals leading up to it), talking too much at work, or just talking too much in general - but whatever the case, my voice hurts, and I'm making a concerted effort to keep quiet, at least as much as I can in a workplace that requires lots of conversation.

Avoiding unnecessary talking, as it turns out, is very difficult. I like to talk, but more than that, people kind of expect greetings in return, chatter while making tea in the morning, or somebody to talk to when you're sitting next to each other at the lunch counter.

I'm thinking of wearing a placard around my neck explaining my situation. But in the meantime, there are a few things you can help me do to rest my voice:

Please don't call me. While I'd love to talk to you, right now it's just not that comfortable, especially at the end of a long day.

If you do have to call, please don't be insulted if I seem rather short. It's not that I don't want to talk to you, it's that I'd rather not talk at all.

Send text messages or emails - or letters if you prefer. I love getting real mail!

Consider this a time to monopolize the conversation. Chances are, I won't interrupt.

Hopefully, the silent treatment won't last long. I've got a doctor's appointment on Friday, and I'm hoping she'll have a miraculous cure.

"I guess heaven must have needed a shortstop"

Please pause for a moment of silence to honor Phil Rizutto, former Yankees shortstop and long-time Voice of the Yankees. The Scooter died today at the age of 89.

Homeward Bound

I've bought the tickets, I'm digging out the suitcase on wheels, and I'm filling out the new luggage tag I received as a part of a birthday gift. I'm headed home for Labor Day weekend to visit my family. And apparently, to clean the basement, but I'm looking forward to it nonetheless.

New York has sunshine in August and early September. It's really, really warm, and I could use a few days of temperatures in excess of 63.

San Francisco: the world's largest small town

This city is really nothing but a 7x7 small town, the kind of place where you're constantly running into friends, former co-workers, and that guy you once knew from grad school (or whatever); where you have to be careful when saying nasty things about an ex, because chances are your ex's friends are within earshot. But I think the small-townness hit a new level today.

While walking into my building, I encountered a woman unloading a moving van - a new neighbor! We passed each other in the lobby as another resident was leaving the building. He greeted her with "Hey, are you back again?"

Turns out, she lived here until last year, and, when looking to move back to the city, there was a vacancy in the building - actually, the unit next to the one she used to live in.

And guess what else: she's a good friend of my friend Sherry. I swear, some day a geneologist is going to figure out that everyone in this city is actually related.

Look, there's blue sky!

August arrived in San Francisco this year with a fury - blustery days that started off really wet. But today, for more than an hour, the sun has come out. I can see the fog hanging downtown and over the beach, and rolling it's way back through my neighborhood, but right now, there's sun spilling through my windows and blue sky overhead.

Let's play Name that Diagnosis!

I haven't gotten any good feedback from my doctor regarding my nagging throat irritation or general malaise of the last few weeks, so I'm starting a contest to see who can come up with the worst diagnosis of the following symptoms. To help narrow things down, I don't have strep, and I'm pretty sure I don't have the staph infection plaguing a guy in my office.

Fatigue;
Lingering throat irritation - it's not sore, but feels strained;
General feeling of malaise;
Slightly diminished appetitie.

The best (or most horrific) diagnosis wins a yet-to-be-determined prize.

Oh, and see the post below for all the other things (including a recently removed spleen and organ transplant) that I also don't have.

New Photos!

Check out all the new photos on Flickr - the link's to the left, but here's a sneak preview:

Here's Steph and myself at our birthday dinner. Neither one of us can talk without our hands. It's an Italian genetic thing.

Approaching Mount Rainier, one of the most beautiful places in the world.

That's Cat on the left. We're hiking toward Sunrise Camp at about 6,000 ft.

Do you have sickle cell anemia or have you had your spleen removed recently?

I called the Kaiser advice nurse this evening, because whatever is making me not feel well is kind of a drag, and my throat hurts, and I get a little hysterical at the thought of strep. I made the call, waited on hold for awhile, and talked to the nurse.

These conversations always start with a series of questions in order to assess my ailment:

Have you had chemotherapy in the last two weeks?
Are you on dialysis?
Are you allergic to any medications?
Do you have sickle cell anemia or have you recently had your spleen removed?
Have you had any organ transplants recently?
Do you have kidney or liver disease?
Are you pregnant?

After ruling out catastrophic illness or, you know, death, the advice nurse agreed that I could perhaps have strep, and she set me up with a 6 pm appointment this evening.

The doctor thinks it's just a virus, but she did the icky strep test and I should have the results tomorrow. But I can't help wondering what would have happened if I'd answered yes to any of those questions. Do you think I'd have had to go to the hospital?

Clarification

Confidential to MM and the LBM: No worries, since we're still in touch and you have not, at any time, abandoned me (though the LBM has a little communication problem, but that seems to be resolving itself), I have no intention of giving up our friendships. However, I plan to be much more cautious going forward. I've already attended several going away parties this year, and while they're fun, the long-term gratification is zero, and I'm getting tired of celebrating departures.

So here's my plan: I'm going to seek out new friends who've just moved here, and throw big parties to celebrate their arrival. But, as I've noted below, I will only be making friends with people who plan to stay. So I guess I'm on the hunt for recently relocated homebuyers. Unless, of course, one of you plans to relocate. It never snows in San Francisco. And the summers are never too hot. And every neighborhood in the city has an awesome view of something.

So think about it. I don't need an immediate answer.

Did you hear....

Sherry got married! And in a fit of jealousy, Brian (who you'll recall was rumored to be dating her last year) has decided he can no longer handle living in the same time zone, so he's moving back to Texas!

While I have no photos (though this is a plea to the internet to pass them on) I can assure you it was a beautiful wedding, and Sherry and Joel are very happy.

And while Brian's announcement comes as quite a shock, now that the surprise has started to wear off, I'm very happy for him. But he has to provide a replacement friend before he can leave California. And I'm picky, so we should really start auditioning them now.