Right to Be Illin'

It should be obvious I support the recently-signed health care bill. I have lived the freelance life before, and I have a lot of friends who live in that weird twilight world of insufficient or nonexistent coverage (and by twilight, I mean "shades of gray ignored by the rest of the world", not "sparkly vampires"). I would like to see a strong public option and more comprehensive plan, but I am willing to take these first steps forward.

So it is with raised eyebrows that I see that our state's attorney general, Rob McKenna, is going to court over the bill, citing it as unconstitutional. It's an interesting approach, but I wish he wouldn't drag the rest of the state in along with him. He's cheesed off a large number of people (including our previous attorney general, who is now governor), though our sweetly conservative Seattle Times is trying to give him cover.

I'm not going to go after McKenna as a conservative - he strikes me as being all over the place, and in some places (like wanting to release the names of people who sign petitions) is more liberal than I. And I severely doubt that this is the political suicide some worthy heads are calling it, though I don't think that re-opening the Medicare D "Donut-Hole" and making the supposed 500,000 uninsured Washingtonians uninsured once more is a strong platform for re-election.

But I do think he's on thin ice, constitutionally. The argument that requiring health insurance is unconstitutional? That strikes me as a bit wobbly. I mean, if he manages to get that, I'm looking forward to seeing him fighting just as hard to repeal home-owner's insurance and car insurance (particularly since I once got mightily dinged for not presenting proper insurance paperwork at a traffic stop).

In the meantime, I'm looking at the current state budget hole and wonder if this is the best spending of time and effort from his office.

More later,

Update: So there is a Facebook page for Washington Tax Payers [sic] OPT OUT of Rob McKenna's lawsuit [sic]. In two days it has 14k people on it. I was going to make a joke about how just about anything could get 14,000 people, but a quick check of "I Like Pie" only has 5000 supporters. What's the deal with that?

Fever Dreams

Personal media and social software such as facebooks, blogs, myspaces, twitters and whatnot rely on user-generated content. They also are positive pressure systems - they count on more stuff coming in over time. There is nothing pulling that content into the system other than the users' own desire to participate.

One of the results of this, though, is that someone you normally feel connected to, through their webpages or livejournals or tweets can suddenly drop off the face of the earth for a few days or even weeks, and only by more traditional forms of communication (or by the return of the prodigal)does it become clear what happened. Friend X had a family tragedy. Blogger Y was in the hospital with the swine flu. Facebooker Z is dealing with a breakup.

This stuff won't get into the system unless the poster so chooses it. In fact, unless you're paying attention to that particular individual and know their habits well, you might not even notice they were gone.

So in my case. I've been radio silent not because I've been out of town (a usual reason), but because I have been recovering from one of the nastiest cases of food poisoning/stomach flu it has been my misfortune to get.

Thursday lunch I has a "almost reuben" from a local sandwich shop, sent into the office. the coleslaw tasted a little iffy, but I did not think much of it at the time. That was about 1 PM. By 2 PM I started feeling queasy, and by 3 PM I started getting cold shakes. I went home at 4 which proved wise because by the time the Lovely Brid got home at 6, I was totally incapacitated with at temp of 100.4.

Now, as you can guess, I got better (well, getting better - still a bit woozy and break out in a sweat when I have to lift anything heavier than a mug of tea) but I completely lost Friday, and missed most of the weekend (a Bookfair, Steamcon, and my Sister In Law was up for a visit - she didn't see me until Sunday and was convinced that "Jeff has a stomach bug" was a cunning plan the LB had dreamed up to cover the fact she had killed me with a trowel and buried me under the tomato beds).

But man, the dreams from Friday - color, three dimensional primitive atari art dreams (mind you, I don't think I actually dreamed in color, but I remember dreaming in color, as my fever-infused mind tried to deal with with overheated surroundings). Here's what I ended up with:

Our universe is bounded by other universe (nothing new there), connected by tubes in which the nature of other universe pour into our universes (an upsurge of magic from a more magical universe, an upswing of evil from a more evil universe, an increase of fresh water from a fresh water universe)and vice versa (nothing surprising there).

But the competition is not between opposed universe (evil vs good, salt vs fresh), but rather by factions within each of the universes - those who favor incremental changes versus those who prefer sudden, major jumps in the influences levels. Think of the first as damage over time, and the second a damage from a single hit of a weapon. Gradualists versus Catastrophists.

And agents of each side are convinced that their method of maintaining the tubeways is the correct one - the gradualists feels that the sudden shocks of the catastrophists weakens the structure of the multiverse, while the catastrophists feel the gradualists are slowing the nature sudden ebb and flow of the multiple cosmos. Both sides think of themselves as the good (well, right) guys, and that the others are sworn, wrong enemies.

And it came through is such incredible interwoven clarity that such dreams of capable of, that the curtain has been pulled back and now I get a view of the workings of the cosmos itself.

Basis for a fantasy campaign? Maybe. Foundation for a religion? Heck yeah. And anyone who picks this up remember that I get a piece of the take (no martyrdoms, please)

More later,

Hit the Bleach

As anyone who looks at the nearby author photo knows, I am not a vain individual. And yet, I am about to start bleaching my teeth.

Here's the whys and wherefores. As a young man, I lost a front tooth in a caving accident (I caught a hard-hat in the face). I had a root canal and a crown installed, which I replaced in the early eighties (and resolved never to bite down on beef jerky again). Now, twenty plus years later, the rest of my teeth have aged and yellowed a bit, but the crown is still near its original color. So it is obvious, particularly in recent photos.

So I've been talking about this with my dentist. Side note here - My dentist is Dr. Jay Deiglmeier, DDS, located in the Panther Lake Professional Building on 208th Street in Kent. My dental hygienist is Bernadette, and I've been with them for ten years, since coming out here, and they are both incredibly warm, personable, and professional. So I trust them.

Anyway, for the past year or so, I've been edging up to the idea of bleaching my teeth, a process where you put fitted plate in your mouth for an hour or so for twenty days, and the bleach on that plate lightens your enamel. This is not an over-the-counter operation, but something done with a dentist's oversight and input. So I finally decided to pull the trigger and give it a shot.

As with all things, I will post further as we go along. But right now, it feels odd to have embarked on this new course.

Who knows, maybe I'll start wearing socks that match next.

More later,

Republican Health Plan

While a lot of lefties have been entreating the Dems in Congress to grow a spine and stand up to their more conservative brethren, one guy finally "went there".



Mind you, the Republicans are insulted (and the only reason you don't hear them being insulted is that this is the after-hours speechifying for the cameras - there are about three guys in the chamber).

But I don't see the irritation - I've been using this joke since the Reagan Administration. (But I think the Representative should check in with Senator Franken to work on his delivery).

More later,

Update: OK, now he's just trying to push their buttons.

SmallPAX

So I mentioned the phenomena of ConVoice last time out - the dropping of my voice a half-octave in timbre over the course of convention. My voice doesn't strain so much as it grows barbs that rattle in my throat to the amusement of others. It is generally harmless and (provided I stop talking) goes away soon enough.

But there is also the legendary ConCrud, which is that exhausted feeling you get after a full-tilt weekend of not relaxing so much as plowing full tilt through a loud continual party. And for those of us WORKING that party, it is just as bad, if not worse. After a convention, participating companies can see increased absences as well as reduced productivity for about a week.

But sometimes it goes above that level, for example, the PAX Pox, or as someone on the AION team termed it - SmallPAX. There have been cases of flu (swine and otherwise) reported out of PAX, which was a perfect breeding ground for germ-swapping (all of those controllers and keyboards passing through multiple users). So the casualty list from the convention is larger than normal, and in addition, some of our number are home just staying out of the way to avoid either coming down with something or spreading it to others.

As a result, I've gotten more done in the past two days, but now I'm getting the wooziness as well. And I don't know if it is just general issue exhaustion (Yeah, I spent Memorial Day playing games with friends) or something much more dire.

And come to think of it, if belonged to a major competitor that was looking to cripple the rest of the industry, PAX would be an ideal vector to spread a virulent, productivity-crippling virus that would immobilize the designer/programmer population.

Of course, the release of Rock Band: The Beatles will do the same thing.

More later,

Update So the local channel Q-13, which handled the convention minimally throughout the weekend (no other records on their web site), now LEADS the evening news with report. Yahsee, its only NEWS when bad things happen.

Paranoia

So to best explain why I was protecting my deck from ninjas at 1 AM, I need to talk about my prostate.

(I don't think there is as single sentence as simultaneously intriguing and off-putting in the English Language. No, don't try.)

Without getting too graphic (yeah, I know you're disappointed), when I went in for my checkup, the bloodwork had an elevated PSA (Prostate Serum Antigen). PSA may be a indication of prostate trouble, but can be affected by other factors, which give a false positive. So I met with the urologist and we decided to eliminate those other factors, which include potential infection.

And to address that end, I've been taking ciprofloxacin.

Now, I have been very fortunate (touch wood) to not have to take anything heavier than tums. So a daily regimen of an antibiotic is a new thing for me. And I so I read the (huge) list of warnings about the drug side effects - effects including dizziness, drowsiness, hives, rapid heartbeat, hallucinations, paranoia, stomach cramps, diarrhea, nerve damage, sensitivity to sunlight, joint sensitivity, headache, fever, skin rash, trouble sleeping, and nightmares.

I think the nightmares come from reading the warning labels. The drugs may come from doctors, but the warning labels definitely come from lawyers, and include every possible effect. We could probably solve the street drug problem merely by giving them the same level of information.

In any event, since starting the regimen, I've been keeping track of potential side effects, and save for the continuing head cold (note: Cipro does not work on colds or flu), have been pretty safe (again, touch wood).

Until last night, when I was awakened by some chance noise - teenagers at the school or some animal in the backyard. I was awake, and within a matter of moments absolutely convinced that someone was out of the back porch outside the bedroom. Upon finding nothing (and not hearing anything else), these mysterious someones became ninjas who were watching, waiting for me to go back to sleep.

The rational mind said this was goofy, but the irrational mind was in charge, and waited by the door to the porch for the ninjas to make their move. Paranoia is a side effect of the drug, apparently (check the laundry list above). Fortunately, I had the antidote, in the form of the Lovely Bride, who instructed me to quit clowning around and come back to bed.

Now, most people know about cipro in the wake of the anthrax attacks of about eight years back, when a large number of concerned and powerful individuals were downing the stuff in hopes of evading the potential of infection. Now, given the possible side effects of the drug, maybe the last eight years have ANOTHER explanation. Just a thought.

Keeping an eye out for the Ninjas. More later,

Age

So I went to my GP today for my annual physical. And I'm in pretty sound health, though I could be better in many ways.

We talked about the colonoscopy and the prodigious size of the non-cancerous polyp they removed and the need for another screening in three years, but I didn't feel bad about that.

We talked about the fact I was running a mild fever, and that at my age, baby aspirin would be a good safety measure against heart disease, and I didn't feel bad about that.

We talked about the fact that my blood pressure is a little up - not badly, but still above normal, and that I should engage in better diet and exercise, and though I will miss the goldfish crackers in the breakroom, I didn't feel too bad about that.

No, what bothered me was the fact that I have apparently shrunk, and am one inch shorter than I had been a decade ago. And that, more than anything else, bothers me, probably because there is nothing I can do about it (except stand up straight and preserve what height I still have).

Such is the price of age. More later,

Flying Polyps

I don't go into great detail about health issues because a) I don't want to bore you with my problems, and b)I don't want you to feel that you have to share YOUR problems in return. But this is important, so I'm putting it here.

If you are 50 or over, I strongly recommend a colonoscopy.

I had one this past Friday, and would go on in odious detail, but Dave Barry has gotten there first, and is much funnier about it than I would be on the subject. My experience is similar to his. In my case, they found a single (huge) polyp that appears benign, but they are doing a biopsy on it and I should know the results in a couple weeks.

This is a serious major step for anyone in regards to managing their own health (and that would be ... all of us). Colon cancer is the 2nd major killer of men in my age group (and third for women). The procedure is time-consuming from the standpoint of preparation (see the Dave Berry article), but is outpatient surgery and was handled professionally and (yes) painlessly.

This is a case where silence IS deadly, so pay attention and check with your GP.

More (hopefully less of a buzzkill) later,

Howyadoin?

Pretty much OK. Thanks for asking.

Quick summary of the week - Monday AM was the vertigo attack, which meant that Monday and most of Tuesday were spent asleep from exhaustion and a massive valium hit. Wednesday I went to work - the Lovely Bride driving since was still on medication. The LB takes those warnings about operating heavy equipment very seriously, and I doubt I could convince her to let me operate a blender, much less a vehicle, while on drugs.

Anyway, Wednesday was important since one of our design groups was grinding its gears without me, and ended up in a three-hour meeting that was (surprise) incredibly constructive. Gave me enough to work of for a Work-At-Home day on Thursday (another LB trait - if I claim I am working at home, she expects me to be, well, working - cruel taskmistress that she is). Friday went in as well, still on anti-nauseas and vals, but was rewarded by seeing some of the very cool stuff the group is putting together.

In general, it has been a very productive week, given all the weirdness involved. Today I was finally trusted enough to drive out and get comics, so I've been taking it easy reading comics and watching curling on the CBC. Slowly weaning myself off the drugs, and so far, except for that weird feeling where you turn your head and it takes a few seconds for you mind to catch up, things have been doing pretty well.

Oh, and my ears have been cracking. Nothing major, but just continual pressure-pops along the ear canals.

Anyway, I've missed a few big things and some small stuff, we'll see where we go from here. I am better but not 100%. Today is officially a bumming around and healing day, and I will leave it at that.

More later,

Vertigo ...

... And not the cool Alfred Hitchcock kind.

One nice thing about the blog is the sense of continuity. Back here I talk about a bout with an inner ear infection that left me incapacitated and heaving my guts out. That's about three and a half years ago.

Well, its back, though not with a vengeance, though mainly because I know what to expect this time, so I'm not dealing from ignorance.

Last night I was sleeping badly, rolled over my side, and was suddenly hit by both dizziness and a nasty feeling of deja vu. That was about 3 AM. The heaves set in quickly (we had Spanacopita (spinich pie) the previous evening for dinner, so I will spare you the gruesome details). By 4:30, and we were at the ER (the Lovely Bride driving, my eyes screwed tight to avoid watching the world around me).

Staff was polite and efficient, though I was parked on a gurney in the hallway (and here I thought that 4:30 AM would be a down time for the hospital). Toughest thing was for me to relax and trust them, a fact made easier after they were very nice and set up the valium drip. They did some basic tests and concurred with the diagnosis from years previous (The resident,a young man who gave me a "Scrubs" flashback, described being hit with is as "bad luck", indicating it is not punishment for my sinful ways, which I liked). Valium and something to calm my seething stomach, a referral for an EENT specialist, an appointment with my local GP, and I'm back home, and have spent the rest of the day sleeping in the waterbed with the cats camped out nearby, who are wondering if they can eat me if worse comes to worse.

The good news is that the Lovely Bride has been here to handle all the tough stuff (paperwork, prescriptions, etc...), and that this time I have a day job that provides health benefits. The bad news is that I really had things to finish today (though the good news is that my coworkers are smart enough to wrap them up without me). So I'm good.

And of course, I am writing this under the influence of drugs, and have the attention span of a flea, so I apologize if most of the words are spelled correctly this time.

More later,

Life In These United States

The Bad News: LIfe Expectancy in the US is down

The Good News: I live in one of the places where life expectancy is going up.

The Bad News: This really isn't going to help if I insist on eating that third cheeseburger.

But in a more serious vein, the maps provided with this article are instructive. I would expect higher mortalities in more urban populations, but our life expectancies are dropping away in more rural and red areas. And not to scare anyone, but one of the biggest drops is concentrated in Oklahoma, where the Sonics are going. Not to make anyone nervous, but its just worth mentioning.

But in the meantime, put down that cheeseburger and back away.

Polonium

Oh, here's a fun fact that I forgot to mention earlier - I'm not radioactive.

I'm sure that's a relief to many, but the question of why it would be important that I declare it is a story that I have been witholding from the blogosphere at large.

Back in early November, I was in Germany working with Blue Byte on their game - The Settlers: Rise of an Empire (which is looking real cool, by the way). Flew into Heathrow, smaller plane to Dusseldorf, and then back. Partial story of the trip is here. But about the same time as I was jetting about, former KBG agent Alexander Litvenenko was poisoned by a massive dose of Polonium-210

Time passes, as does Litvenenko. I'm back in Seattle and it is early December, and I get an urgent email from Blue Byte to contact them. The Brits had found trace amounts of PO-210 on four planes, including the one I was on for the Dusseldorf/Heathrow hop. There was no immediate danger, but everyone on board was encouraged to see their physician, just in case. Now.

Oh, joy.

So I call my GP, was told that things were kinda full, explained to them that there was an outside chance of my being radioactive, and was given an immediate appointment. There was a general determinance of my good health (no surprise - in the mean time, the LB and I had the great Thanksgiving disaster, which resulted in us walking four miles uphill in the snow) and a recommendation that I see the staff radiologist. He was in turn interested (I was his first Litvenenko-related case), ran a radiation counter/tricorder/studfinder over me, and declared me OK.

Mind you, Polonium-210 is a heavy particle that can be stopped by clothing or skin. The only prob is if it is injested (which is how Litvinenko got it - through a teapot). Since I didn't lick the pull-down seat tray on that flight, I was pretty sure I was good. Plus the fact that if I had pulled up even a mild dose, I would have showed some definite signs (like keeling over dead) in the month between by fateful flight and the warning.

I was concerned, though, and took it with some gallows humor. And my co-workers were amused. One of them said "The symptoms of Polonium poisoning are similar to those of being stabbed through a curtain." That made me laugh. Even in our darkest hour - Shakespeare humor!

So that's my brush with international espionage. Why didn't I mention it sooner? Well, two days BEFORE I got the call to check myself for radiation poisoning, I was talking to my Mom on the phone, and she was worried (as Moms worried) that the Brits were checking flights and since I was on a flight in Europe, I was at risk. And of course I said that there were a lot of flights in Europe, and it was unlikely I was affected.

And of course I was wrong, but I didn't want to then CALL her back and make her worry, so I resolved to mention it in person when I was back in Pgh this past month, when I could demonstrate I was in good health and ... well, not dead.

And I've been mum on the blog as well, but the sudden meme-tagging made me realize that I haven't shared THIS particular fact. But now I have. So there you have it.

How am I? Not Radioactive! Thank You!

More later,