I haven’t rode my bike much since Halloween and I still hurt. Specifically, my tailbone hurts and I’m pretty sure I badly angered or bruised it. I sat on a hard chair for a while on Saturday and it’s been killing me since. I almost told my boss today but there’s no good way to say “by the way boss, my ass is killing me!” I asked the internet and it said that doctors don’t do a lot for broken coccyx. Pain meds and baths and a few days of rest. Pain meds would be nice but I like things like driving and not wasting vacation time better. So I suck it up, do some stretches my roommate showed me and whimper when I stand.

Clinical stuff-my sessions with my clients were pretty good and I think I’ve engaged them enough that they won’t bail. I start a new client next week so I will be back up to 3.

Parts and stuff- I saw my girly doctor today and insurance rules have changed since last year. I can get my tubes tied at the hospital’s outpatient clinic which makes me much more confident in the whole not dying thing. I might be able to schedule in a few weeks. I’ve even told my mom about it since I’m doubting my ability to walk up flights of stairs to my apartment after surgery. Staying at home to recover will make my mom feel nice and…motherly.
My dad suggested my mom email me instead of call because I don’t like the phone. Her first email was all in caps and a big run on sentence. I emailed her about the tube tying and she called me to respond. Almost got it.

I went out with the ladies tonight. It was nice, not too mommy focused, a lot of discussion about the election and politics. There was one other non-mommy there, making it split between moms/non-moms even for some of the night. I think the trick is just to not be the only non-mom. Don’t go to the playroom. Go to bars.

Also, I want to live in a warehouse with a rooftop garden and bands play in my basement and I make spray paint and gravel mandalas in my barren front yard.

I got blood draw this morning to make sure I don’t have a bunch of painful diseases. 5 tubes! I’m not sure if I have any blood left. I got lucky with a skilled phlebotomist that didn’t have to go poking around. I can tell if they are good by their stick and aftercare. You do not bend your arm up after a blood draw! I don’t know how many years I was told to do that and would end up with massive bruising. Keep your arm straight and apply pressure. So I thought I would get lucky when I peeked under my bandaid and didn’t see a bruise. I pulled the bandaid off and it really pulled the inner elbow skin up when coming off. So now I have a tiny mark near the needle hole and a big bruise where the bandaid was. I can’t win.

I felt very knowledgeable at work today. I emailed the NIH contacts on the research program announcement my agency might submit an application for. The CEO wants to use this as a chance to revive an old HIV prevention program. I’m not so sure HIV prevention is what NIH is looking for with this program. Being sponsored by two different centers having to do with alcohol abuse kind of leads me to believe they want it to be a “Drinking is bad, kids!” program. Rather than be snotty about it, I took the learnin I gained at the research conference I attended and emailed the contacts listed to ask them. I hope I am right so I can go all RTFM on the CEO.

And now it is time for baking!

I went back to acupuncture today after work. Acupuncturist remembered me, we chatted about boxing and my life while she poked me. She asked about my ex who I dragged to acupuncture a couple times. She poked a couple new places, make me wonder what new things I told her this time. Or maybe just how I presented- stressed from work, feeling slightly defeated because I am back at acupuncture again and can’t go more than a few months without it before my sleep is completely destroyed. But it was nice to return. I just enjoyed the buzz for a little while and developed a slight crush on the boy sitting next to me when he would occasionally snort or twitch during his needle induced nap. My body always wakes me up just short of an hour. Wake up, needles out, see ya next week.

This blog post reminds me of my standard description of an ICD shocking my lifeless body after some sort of horrific accident (usually punctuated by slamming my fist into my hand). Turns out I am right!

ICD’s are hackable!
Researchers hacked an ICD (Implantable Cardiac Defibrillator) using a computer and a software radio. The researchers were able to get patient data, settings and change settings causing the ICD to deliver a shock. Link to the full IEEE research article is in the linked article.

What is the first thing you think about when you set up a wireless network?  “Do I want to let my neighbors access my network?”

Depending on your level of geek, illegal porn downloading and sense of community, you set your security level. So where was Medtronic’s security level? At the “what is the internet?” level?

My parade plans were almost thwarted by the time change and a cell phone that was slow to change but I made it out to the South side to celebrate being a dirty Mc.

I went to a party at high school friend’s mom’s house. Nothing makes you feel old like seeing little brothers all growed up. Then I went to my parent’s house where I ruined my diet with corned beef and “just a tiny slice” of cake. No wonder my family has trouble losing weight.

And look at this article. “A vast array of pharmaceuticals — including antibiotics, anti-convulsants, mood stabilizers and sex hormones — have been found in the drinking water supplies of at least 41 million Americans, an Associated Press investigation shows.”

I totally knew about this from a Cafe Science talk. Unfortunately, it looks like I didn’t blog about the talk but the professor said that the estrogen in the water supply from birth control pills will eventually decrease penis size. We must do something about this now!

My workplace is involved in the 50 Million Pound Challenge. We had a kick off event this week and there is an inter-agency contest going on. Whoever loses the most weight in 10 weeks (by percentage, not pounds) wins moneys! My agency isn’t that big and I’m sure everyone won’t participate. I would say there is a 1 in 50 chance of winning. So really I have no excuse not to start working at losing weight. The first weigh in is Monday (so I’m working on finishing my box of Valentine’s truffles this weekend.)

My tattoo is healing nicely and has stopped being itchier than Lindsay Lohan’s crotch. My tattoo is another reason for me to lose weight! I gots to look good to show it off!

Wonderful moment at work this week: Assistant of the Last Minute department comes by asking for FedEx envelopes. I don’t have any, just Express Mail. No, she needs FedEx because these are VERY IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS. Whatever, keep hunting. She finally finds the envelopes (probably in her own office because her department is the only one that uses Fed Ex) and sends off her docs. Next day I find out the very importantness did not reach it’s very important person because the Assistant sent it to the wrong address. Competency. We do not have.

Oh, I was silly to think that I would get my tubes tied by just asking a nice, qualified doctor.

I called to get my bloodwork results and schedule my tube tying and the office person I talked to said that my doctor doesn’t do surgery with my HMO. She told me to call my HMO and go to an outpatient clinic. He didn’t mention that my insurance would be a problem during the visit but I know how oblivious doctors are as to which insurance networks they are in.

So I call my insurance and they tell me that he cannot do the procedure because my hospital is religiously affiliated. I knew that at one time this hospital was St. Something but I thought the new name had bought out the old one. I’m still not quite clear on how the doctor does sterilization. All the info I find on him says he only works at this one hospital. His staff person made it sound like it was my specific HMO he didn’t work with but maybe it is HMO’s in general. I called his office a bunch of time going back and forth with the insurance company, I feel dumb calling again but I want to know if there is a way of getting the surgery at a hospital.

I want to stay at a hospital, preferably this one, because I am worried about my robotness and the clinic they referred me to is pretty much an abortion clinic. They do other stuff but if you google them, the first results say abortion clinic. I don’t want to deal with protesters, that tense feeling in the waiting room or weary doctors that have been vacuuming all day.

Hate you, health care system.

I went to see my girly doctor last week and for the first time ever the doctor didn’t argue! I went in prepared for a fight. I rehearsed what I would say in my mind while I waited next to pregnant bellies and women smiling at ultrasound pictures. I went into the exam room and started to lose my voice as the nurse asked routine questions. Nervous or just awkward around cute dykes? Not sure.

I told the doctor I wanted to know about sterilization and he started explaining the procedure. Didn’t ask if I was married, how old I was, if I had any kids.  He had the nurse take some blood at the end of the visit to make sure I can handle the anesthetic.

I was really expecting more of a fight or even having to switch to yet another doctor. This doctor seemed very nice and non-judging. I almost interrupted him to tell him how I’ve been asking for this for 10 years and have been rejected by multiple doctors. But I didn’t need to tell him.

For all your haters out there, let me remind you that pregnancy would surely upset the robot buried in my chest and we do not want that!

A couple people suggested a tube tying party. I’m down with an excuse to have a party. Would Sweet Mandy B’s draw a uterus on my cake?

I had my first performance evaluation at work and they looove me. I rated myself pretty low because at my previous job my supervisor always rated people low so they had “room to grow.” I guess the new boss doesn’t feel the same way because she had no problem giving me the highest or 2nd highest score in a lot of areas. Not a single “do better” type rating. Yay!

We also talked about different grants I could apply to and she recommended a certain type of grant from NIMH that’s for “new explorers” or some Boy Scout sounding title. But it would be my grant, I wouldn’t even need a co-PI.

I saw my PCP last week and she gave me a name of a gynecologist that she thinks would tie my tubes. My PCP is also childless by choice so she understands where I’m coming from. She did not ask if I was married or engaged. She did ask if I want to adopt and I told her no, just don’t want kids. I should have explained how hot the DINK lifestyle is to me or told her how jealous I am of upwardly mobile gay couples. No one asks rich old gay men “Oh aren’t you sad you’ve never had a baby?” They’re too busy admiring their beautiful house/partner/pool boy.

So I have an appointment with a possibly awesome gynecologist late next month. In the meantime, I got some Yaz. I will try to overlook the stupid name or the huge amount of marketing that I miss not watching TV or reading women’s mags. Yaz is a low dose pill and supposedly helps with PMDD. I wouldn’t say I have PMDD but I do get awfully emo around my period. When I went to get the pill, the nurse practitioner was trying to steer me toward getting an IUD instead of sterilization. IUD’s sound awesome if you want to do things like finish college/grad school without getting knocked up. But since I don’t want babies ever, why not just get sterilized instead of having to replace an IUD every 3-10 years? And I’m trying to minimize the amount of foreign objects inside of me. Already got 1. Not counting my piercing since I am getting rid of it soon. (Because it looks bad and is a pain in my ass, not because of this argument.)

More holiday shopping now. Whee!