Healthcare schmealthcare

nataliedee.com

I couldn't find a comic or anything to express my opinions on the healthcare debate and then I realized that this is the closest one. I find that I can't have a civil conversation because it's another one of those situations where no one makes sense to me. It's like they're speaking another language, I disagree with them so profoundly. I'm paralyzed. The things I heard on npr this morning just made matters worse. Apparently 54% of Americans approve of Obama's energy policies and, they didn't give a percentage, but, far fewer are on board with healthcare. Do you want to know why I think that is? Because he's been asking them. I think the town hall meetings are a mistake. Pearls before swine. Not because the healthcare plan is pearls, per se, but because the American people don't have anything intelligent to contribute. They say things like, "I don't want government-run healthcare and don't you dare touch medicare." and "I was bankrupt and using foodstamps and living on welfare and no one helped ME out." We're a nation of idiots. I think that what we need to do is quickly improve the educational system before we re-introduce town hall meetings. I think that the reason so many people approve of the energy policy is because it's not been paraded around for bozos to criticize with their half-baked opinions and bullshit points of view. Take me for example, I'm not too crazy about nuclear power. It's dirty and nasty and needs to be a last resort. Lots of people feel that way. Ask us about Obama's energy policy, however, and we're like, "Sure, whatev [finger 'w']" So, as you can see, I'm not leaving liberals out of this, nor am I omitting myself. What I'm saying is that Obama has a nasty habit of worrying too much about consensus. Fuck consensus. You don't need it. Doesn't he have all the votes he needs? They're all out to get you. Just fucking pass a bill and forget about it. Here's where I love Barney Frank. It's a different issue but it makes me happy. Jon Stewart showed this clip recently (you can skip to 1:19):

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Barney Frank's Town Hall Snaps
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Healthcare Protests

Teeheehee. Love him. Anyway, all this in the face of the death of the senate's best consensus builder...well...I do understand the importance of consensus, I guess. If only everyone were trying!

Vomit, a nice post about my husband.

I think that maybe people don't like to hear wonderful touching things that other people feel about their spouses because it sounds like bragging. Alternatively, it makes people feel like you've shared private information. Unfortunately, it is totally socially fine to complain about the poor souls and, because of that, I'm constantly concerned that people get the wrong idea at the small scale, about Kevin and, at the large scale, about marriage. I just watched Julie and Julia last week and my favorite thing about it was the relationship between Julia Child and her husband. I felt like it was a really good portrayal of married love and it made me happy. Because, it's different, right? So, you get a lot of "love stories" in the media/movies/etc. and there's all this drama and big feelings and dramatic crescendos and then there's the cultural idea that it ends after a little while and you just suck it up and get used to the absence of romance. And I perpetuate that notion a little bit because it is really different. You lose a lot of the feeling of putting on a fancy dress to see if you can impress someone or the feelings of surprise or nerves (these things vary, based on the couple). What I'm really excited about now is how much new and exciting stuff you get, which is hard to quantify or explain or put into a movie. I think I've done this before but I'm going to attempt to make a list of things that can be features in a happy marriage (that are features of mine):

(1) You have, for perhaps the first time for some people, someone who generally thinks that you're a good person who tries hard to do the right thing. You can be a big asshole or act badly and feel like everyone hates you, but, as long as the victim isn't the poor spouse, he/she will maybe give you an opinion about what you've done, but, ultimately know that you shouldn't be judged too harshly.

(2) He/she, for the most part, takes care of you when you're unpleasant. Take this from a pregnant person. I am stinky and cranky and hate-filled. Also, demanding and not much help (e.g., with yard-work and carrying furniture).

(3) It's not that there isn't a fluttery sense of how much I love him, there is, it's just that it feels different, maybe bigger and more profound, when it's not new and it's missing the sense that you could lose him at any moment. This feeling does get especially profound if I hear a story about someone losing his/her spouse. It makes a person want to rush home and engulf him/her to be sure he/she is safe. Sometimes it happens to Kevin and it's a nice feeling from either end.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that I firmly believe that marriage is worthwhile. I'm re-iterating that sentiment because I think it's important, if sappy. Now I'm going to go back to my previous post to see if I'm repeating myself...sort of...you can decide for yourself.

Is it my age or have I become dowdy?

I mentioned on facebook previously that I got yelled at for talking during movie previews recently. This hasn't happened to me all that frequently but one reason it didn't surprise me is that I have, overall, come to a place where strangers aren't all that nice to me. I have three theories:

1. It's because I appear old, due to my gray hair, un-hip clothing, or, possibly, my age.

2. It's started since I have been pregnant, in which case there are three sub-theories: (a) It's because I appear fat, (b) It's because I'm surly and grumpy, and (c) I am just more sensitive

3. I'm moving around with a different group of people as I get older and start working the 9-5 hours and going to early, uptight movies like the 7:30 Sunday showing of Julie and Julia.

Overall, the situation is distressing and disappointing. I thought that I didn't mind being female because people were, overall, somewhat nicer to me (externally). However, I am beginning to think that this is only true for young and sort of stylish-ly dressed and non-fat females. This morning, I decided, after I'd already opened my driver-side door, to file my nails before going to my office. The parking deck wasn't crowded and there was no one parked either in the space on my passenger side or in the space next to the space on my driver side. Still, a bmw screeched into the space next to the space on my driver side and gave me a surly look, presumably for taking up a space with my car door. It's a daily trend at this point. If it's not a surly parking deck patron, it's my fellow drivers, movie-goers, or the students on campus. I seem to have become invisible/annoying overnight. Maybe the city is just in a bad mood. Maybe it's because of the healthcare debate.

Okay, fine, I'll be positive.

Things I like about pregnancy:

(1) The aforementioned men with babies thing. They're super nice to me. It turns them all squishy and sweet and empathetic as soon as they realize I'm pregnant. They use sweet voices and cock their heads and ask me how I've been feeling. So far, these have all been hardened scientists who typically make people cry about how bad their research is.

(2) I don't have to go to the gym. I go for walks with my friends and people think I'm doing a bang-up job getting plenty of exercise. Thanks everyone, it's really been a challenge ;)

(3) Guilt-free new clothes. If I buy them from a consignment shop, I've actually behaved in a very conscientious way. Something I apparently should not do is purchase lawn care equipment for my husband. He says it's as if he bought me a vacuum cleaner. Fair enough.

(4) I have substituted booze for desert. It's a switch I'm thinking of sticking with, even after the baby comes and I'm allowed booze again. The calories are sort of comparable, depending on how much booze you were going to have. I had a delicious cookie with ice cream and raspberries last night and Kevin drank beers like a sucker.

There, see? Positive. I now get an award for not being a complainer. I'll put it next to the big red "C" I got for yesterday's tirade.

That's right, I said I'm pregnant, would you like to offer me your seat?

I tried to find an internet image to plug in here and it just made me even more annoyed. My annoyance is something I've just uncovered, having posted on my friend's blog. I'm annoyed about a list of social aspects of pregnancy I've just discovered. I'm going to use list form since I don't have an image and I need to hold your interest:

(1) People are more concerned about my safety than they used to be. I've decided that it's probably because small injuries can result in dramatic repercussions. This is my decision. What I'm having trouble resisting is the idea that this baby's life is more important than my life was, before he/she existed. Alternatively, that I've suddenly become the blameless Madonna, since becoming pregnant, and, hence, don't deserve accident or injury. I've got news for you people, almost all pregnant women got that way from sex. They are the same slutty potty-mouth jerk-faces they were before, although sometimes married and, hence, again, blameless, for some reason.

(2) Related to my search for an internet image: The juxtaposition of pregnancy and sexuality seems to endlessly titillate people, thus, the media is filled with these ridiculously sexual pregnant ladies. Let me tell you one more thing: She just farted. And it smelled terrible. Just so you know. Also, she feels a little like eating an entire pizza but also a little like throwing up. She's exhausted and cranky and probably doesn't have anything nice to say about you or your mother.

(3) I can not handle one more person's reaction to this news. Why is that? Why did I spend my entire childhood imagining what it would be like to be pregnant (that's right, I did) only to feel completely out-of-place, confused, and embarassed by the whole thing? I thought I would be someone glee-fully shouting things out to the world as soon as the stick turned pink and, instead, I want the various friends and loved ones in my life to just magically know, so that I don't have to have the appropriate response to their resounding joy. Do they realize how hard this is going to be? Why so un-abashedly happy? My life is about to change dramatically and, while I'm excited and happy, I'm also terrified...and I'm probably uncomfortably gassy.

Okay, that's done. Phew. I feel somewhat better. I'm happy about all of this, I really am. And I don't want to be labeled as a complainer (since another thing about pregnancy is that #4 people like to rank the women they know in terms of how well they handled the whole thing). I just sort of needed to say some things. Maybe that's why my blog has been so vacant for so long, since this is the only thing I think about...not really...that's item #5 that annoys me about the social understanding of pregnancy.

Disgusting, semi-painful, and totally effective

The only thing more fantastic than the neti pot itself is this awesome photo of it I found on wikipedia. Hillarious man using neti pot. I'd just like to say that I have had a sinus headache for approximately 3 weeks due to some nasty form of rhinitis (many possible causes). Last night, I poured saltwater into my nose, then blew it all over my kitchen, and then, magically [twinkling sound], the headache, she was finished. All hail king neti pot. I utilized it again this morning because I was told to use it daily and let me just say that this is a testimony to (1) how terrible a 3 week sinus headache is and (2) how completely healed I was, because pouring saltwater into my nose is up there in the top 10 things I dislike. It's very much like unexpectedly getting hit in the face with a giant wave at the beach.

While I'm blogging, I'd like to say one more thing: I absolutely, positively, hate HATE the 80 bajillion circumstances in the life of a PhD student/PostDoc in which one receives completely crappy instructions on an issue (e.g., "What do I do with my ethidium bromide waste?" Answer: "Email so-and-so to come pick it up.") followed by the select so-and-so bawling you out for doing it wrong (e.g., "Ethidium bromide is a chemical hazard, not a biohazard, you have placed it in the wrong bag! In addition, you must provide me with a contact number and, furthermore, you're an idiot!") This sort of scenario seems to happen over and over again. If it's not chemical waste, it's chemical inventory. If it's not chemical inventory, it's p-card statements. If it's not p-card statements, it's my stupid parking permit or some other ridiculous red tape bs item...argh! I guess this is the pay-back for being able to show up whenever I want and not having to wear pantyhose.

Patellar tracking disorder

Sigh, and alas. I have been doing physical therapy now for about two weeks, for my knees, which hurt every time I get going in an exercise program. Turns out I have patellar tracking disorder, which may or may not be reparable. There are several things that I really hate about this diagnosis (no particular order):

(1) They suggest that I lose weight. This is annoying on two different levels. There's the obvious, not liking to be told to lose weight, and the secondarily annoying, which is that you are supposed to simultaneously stop whatever exercise made the knee start hurting.

(2) They suggest that I build up my quads, which annoys me, because my quads are already stronger than most people's (I can backsquat more than a lot of the women at my gym who are otherwise much bigger bad-asses than I am).

(3) They explain to me that this is often a hereditary misalignment thing, particularly since there was no trauma, and the various solutions may or may not work.

Anyway, the physical therapist is an improvement for two reasons. First of all, my GP just told me to take 2 aleve 2x a day...for the rest of my life, presumably? And, secondly, my GP described patellar chondromalacia, which is more of a symptom than a diagnosis. Oh, one more reason, which is that my GP said that the only alternative to the massive intake of NSAIDs would be surgery...which turns out not to be true...per se...

So, it's good to have a diagnosis. Some of my prescriptions include specific stretches, ice, and the graston technique (pictured above), which hurts. What's fun is that, at each session, there is a lot of sort of rough massage-style leg manipulation to determine what sorts of stretches I need to do. I think that part is the classic "physical therapy." I also get chiropractic pelvic adjustments. My very favorite part of the leg manipulations is that, since my quads are involved, I have to wear shorts and shave. Also, since I've watched the various manipulations, I've become increasingly aware of both how jiggly my inner thighs are, and how carefully I need to shave them. I considered telling the physical therapist, last time, about Emily and the German gynecologist, and the taking off of the pants. I decided that he might find it creepy. What he'd likely find more creepy is doing his job in Germany.