03 September, 2008

How I Spent My 15th Bay Area Anniversary 

I spent it with friends doing some night shooting at the Sutro Baths. If you're unfamiliar with San Francisco history, the Sutro Baths is a fascinating place. It's interesting enough during the day but has a completely different character at night. And, as my friend Patrick pointed out, different still when you see long exposure night photographs of it. This particular shot was taken from the Cliff House. The rocks are lit by these enormous lights from the Cliff House and they are white because birds hang out there and, well, you know, do what birds do.

So. Fifteen years. I remember my first few hours in San Francisco so well. My friend and her daughter (who I also consider my friend, even if she is young enough to be my daughter) made the trip from Portland with me. We rolled into San Francisco around 11:00 p.m. and I managed to get myself lost in the Mission, trying to find my new flat.

"Pull the car over here and let's just look at the map." my friend urged.

My eyes darted around, taking in the landscape, my very tired brain processing this information so I could make a decision. I looked up at the street sign. "Julianna, I am not stopping this car on a street called SHOTwell!" Julianna sighed and I kept driving. I knew I was close. In fact, I was only a couple of blocks away, but I was turned around. After another 10 minutes or so, I found my street and my flat. I thought I had found a parking space, too, so I pulled over and we unloaded my Hyundai. We were nearly done when a woman pulled up and yelled at me for blocking her driveway. I apologized, said I was new in town and closed up my car to move it. She kept yelling at me the whole time. (For MONTHS after that, every time I walked my dogs by her car I tried to get Reggie to lift his leg on her tires but he wouldn't. Proving once again that, for a dog, he was a much better person than I.)

I did find a parking spot about a block away (I would soon learn that finding parking within a block of your home in San Francisco after 11:00 p.m. is a stroke of bloody good luck), locked up the car and took the last of my stuff to the flat.

When my friends and I went to the car to drive into downtown (yeah, I'd soon learn how foolhardy THAT was, too), my car had been broken into and I had a parking ticket. Luckily my car wasn't damaged and nothing was taken because there was nothing in it. And I learned about street cleaning days.

So in my first nine hours living in San Francisco I had been yelled at over a dubious driveway, been broken into, had my first parking ticket and my first meltdown trying to drive into downtown (not knowing my way around). By the time we got home that afternoon I was in tears wondering how I ever thought I could do this and I was *this close* to packing up the car and going right back to Portland. (I knew that most of the friends and family had figured I wouldn't last six months but I don't think any of them picked 24 hours for the pool.) My friends and my new roommate were so incredibly supportive, reassuring me it was just a rough first day and I'd be all right. But if I really wanted to go back to Portland, that would be okay, too.

I decided to stick it out a while longer. :-)

And I'm glad I did. Living in the Bay Area is not easy, especially if you don't have either 1) a high paying job, 2) several roommates or 3) a support system. There are days when trying to make a living here really kicks my ass and I wonder why I'm killing myself just trying to keep a roof over my head and gas in the car. Hardly a month goes by where I don't spend a day or two wondering if I'd be happier someplace else where the cost of living was a little more reasonable and the pace a little less hectic and the air and water a little cleaner.

But I can't quit this. Or this. And I can't think of a town with an eccentric quite as interesting as Frank Chu. I'd miss my adopted home town too much, too. And the weather here is as close to perfect as I've ever found and, most of all, I now have some really amazing friends here. Also, acquiring enough valium to make any move tolerable for me and the furkids would add several hundred dollars to the cost of the journey.

So I think I'll stick it out a while longer. :-)

(edited to fix some glaring typos 'n' stuff)

Labels: friendship, furkids, grace, gratitude, San Francisco, Why it is

   ~~ victoria on 2:54 PM ~~    0 comments

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12 October, 2007

My Flickr Friends 

They are Teh Awesome!

That is all.

Labels: flickr, friendship, gratitude

   ~~ victoria on 7:26 AM ~~    0 comments

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07 October, 2007

Oh Goody! She's On About Her Damn Back Again! 

(Hey friends, this is a long post and I don't know why I'm compelled to post the whole story but I am. Read it if you want, but if you don't want the whole saga, then I invite you to skip down to today's Simon Sunday post. K'thxbye!)

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I really thought I'd have nothing new to post about my back problems after last weekend. I went for another acupuncture treatment last Tuesday and felt better than I had in several weeks.

And then...

I wake up Wednesday morning. The back/hip/leg is stiff and a little sore, but that's been The New Normal so I didn't worry too much about it, even if it was disappointing because I had felt so much better before I went to bed. I went through the morning ablutions, gave the cats some breakfast and went into the bedroom to finish my Chinese herb tea and get dressed while Billie ate her breakfast on my bed. I bent down to put my underwear on when something went horribly, horribly wrong. I don't know if a disc slipped or what exactly happened: All I know is that I was suddenly in the most horrific pain I have ever experienced in my life and I couldn't walk. I was trying so hard not to panic but it was a full-speed freight train coming right at me. I tried to stretch gently and nearly collapsed: I tried to walk it off but I could hardly move. I flopped myself onto the bed thinking that maybe if I just rested it for a few minutes it would be okay and I could get dressed and take the later boat in to work (how fucking sick is that?).

If I moved, even a hair's width, my right side shrieked in agony. I don't know how I did it, but I got up and, with the aid of my Swiffer broom stick (that I had been using as a cane), grabbed an old dress out of the closet and threw it over me, got to the back door and unlocked it so my friend S could get in, put the rest of Simon's breakfast in his dish and got my mobile phone before collapsing on the bed and, very gingerly and painfully, slithering under the covers. I left messages with the acupuncturist (her office was closed Wednesday but I didn't realize that at first) and the receptionist at my office (she said she never got my message, though I distinctly remember hearing her voice mail greeting and leaving a very gasping, panic-stricken message). I shivered under the covers for another hour or two before calling S (got her voice mail) and G (who, thank my stars, picked up). G came over (she has a spare key) and helped me with the cats and brought me water, made sure I was alright and told me to call if I needed a ride to the doctor or anything.

My nerves and muscles in right leg were so ground up that any trip to the bathroom or to the kitchen to get the ice pack left me shaking violently by the time I got back to my bed and it would take me several minutes of flopping (there was no strength in the leg to hold me up to even sit on the bed) slithering, moaning and screaming before I was under the covers again. Simon stayed next to me in bed: Billie stayed in the living room, but I could hear her pitter-pattering feet in the hallway and occasionally she'd meow softly until I answered her. I made an appointment at Kaiser for Thursday afternoon. I spoke to the acupuncturist: She thought she might try to come to my apartment to give me a treatment but she couldn't (not that I could have got to the door to let her in, anyway). She thought I should get a chiropractic adjustment. On one of my herculean efforts to get to the bathroom and back, I detoured to my desk for the blue post-it note pad with the name and phone number of S's chiropractor. I checked in at the office (that's when I was told that the receptionist didn't get my voice mail) and said I was done for the next couple of days, probably the rest of the week but that I'd keep checking in. At that point I was exhausted and my mobile phone battery was running low. I phoned G's a while later and spoke to C who said he or G would stop by in the evening. I managed to find a "least uncomfortable" position and slept fitfully for a couple of hours.

C came over and brought me my ice pack, mobile phone charger and hooked up my old iBook and the Airport Base station so I could at least check in online and then served the cats' food. I think he was on his way to something else and I felt bad that I kept him for so long. I got hold of S a couple of hours later and she said she would be over in the morning (she lives across the back yard from me) to help with the cats and would take me to Kaiser. I hardly slept at all and was exhausted when I had to get up to use the bathroom in the morning. I had it in my head that I HAD to feed the furkids myself so I tried to, though it ended up with me in tears, shaking violently and barely making it back to bed. S came over about an hour later and got the cats fresh water, scooped the litter box (I hated, but hated asking G and S to do that chore for me!) and brought me more water and the bottle of Rescue Remedy she found by the kitchen sink. She said she'd be back in a few hours to take me to my Dr. appointment at Kaiser. I rested as long as I could and I made an appointment with her chiropractor for Friday morning.

I got up again to try to get myself together for the appointment, my wallet, check book, glasses, mobile phone, etc. I collapsed on the bed again for another hour or so before I heard S's footsteps in the back garden. SHIT! I realized I still didn't have underwear on! S came in and I told her my dilemma. She said she needed to pull the car around and she'd get me in a few minutes. So I took out a pair that looked the least challenging to get on and fumbled around--in a great deal of pain--getting them on after about the fifth try. When I stood up, I realized I had put them on wrong. At that point I really didn't give a shit anymore. I pulled my messy matted hair back, put my glasses on and hobbled out front to wait for S. She parked along the street and I very slowly slid into her car but could not reach over to close the door. S needed to run back up to her place for her ID which gave me time by myself to try to settle into the seat. I so did not want to moan and groan the whole trip so I gripped the handle over the door and did deep breathing exercises while I waited for her to return. Once we were underway, she turned on the seat warmer. I don't know why or how, but somehow between the great lumbar support in Subarus and the seat warmer, my back and hip eased and I was actually able to walk (well, limp) through the parking lot and across the street to the medical building.

I had avoided going to Kaiser for the back problems because all I expected was I'd get a cursory look-over, answer a couple of questions and be sent home with a bottle of pills. I underestimated them. After the doctor showed up 15 minutes late (by which time I was in great pain again) I got a cursory look-over, answered a couple of questions, got sent to the lab for a blood test and urine test (she thought, because I had a slight fever, I might have a bladder infection--in fact the blood test she ordered looks like one that is ordered to look at kidney function too--Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot???) and sent me home with THREE bottles of pills (Vicodin, which did nothing, Flexeril, which actually did help but really made me drowsy, and prescription ibuprofen). Whoop-dee-flippin'-doo!

S brought me home and I took a couple of Vicodin which, as I said, did nothing at all. I checked in at the office but had to cut my call short because I was getting very uncomfortable again. I took a Flexeril and went back to bed. The muscle relaxer actually eased the discomfort and I managed to sleep for a couple of hours before getting up to feed the cats. Yes, I was able to actually get up and feed my cats! By myself! (Simon was probably the most relieved by this as he was freaked out by all of the people he didn't know coming into his house and making him hide under the bed.) I lay on the bed while Billie ate and checked in on my regular Web sites for a while. I decided what I really needed was sleep and took another Flexeril before going to bed (at 7:00 pm!). I woke up around 3:00 a.m. feeling sore again, so I got up and took one last Flexeril so I could get some rest. The pill worked, but Simon decided to be Freaky Boy and get into everything knowing there wasn't much I could do to stop him. I reached over and got the blue post-it note pad and the pen I had put on my bed stand and made a shopping list for when S took me to the chiropractor: a heating pad and can of compressed air (the sound stops Simon in his tracks).

I was feeling sore and icky when I got up but I was absolutely determined to not take any more medication before I saw the chiropractor. S came to collect me (I not only had underwear on, but it was on the right way this time! Thank You, Flexeril!) and we were off. The ass-warming seats worked their magic again on the way to the chiropractor, though I had a bit of difficulty hobbling in. The chiropractor visit was COMPLETELY DIFFERENT from the Kaiser visit. Oh My Stars! She explained a little bit about the way the spine and nervous system work together, then, explaining the function of every set of nerves along the spine, took a detailed health history. Then we went back for x-rays (which Kaiser did NOT do). She analyzed the images and gave me a treatment. Her specialty is the NUCCA technique, which isn't the snappy/cracky/poppy adjustment we tend to associate with chiropractors. NUCCA concentrates on the top vertebrae where the base of the skull meets the spinal column. Essentially, it's getting my head on straight! As I lay there while she applied pressure below/behind my ear, I was a bit skeptical. But I did feel a little better afterward, I had to admit. She took a second set of x-rays to see if the adjustment realigned the Atlas area but we didn't have time to look at them before her next appointment. I certainly wasn't up dancing a polka, but I was feeling a bit better. I made an appointment for Saturday and bought S lunch to thank her for helping me.

I was feeling a little achy in the evening, so I took one of the prescription ibuprofen before I went to bed. Unlike the Vicodin, these actually seemed to smooth the edge off of the pain (with a little help from the heating pad). I was a little bummed about that because I really wanted to detox all of the drugs out of my system, but I also needed to rest. As I lay in bed trying to relax myself to go to sleep, I realized that I had stopped using the old Swiffer broom stick to prop me up. Simon curled up next to me and sighed.

Saturday morning I felt better than I have in a month! I was still stiff and kind of sore, especially in the hip and along the back of my leg, but I felt like I might be able to do a bit more than just function. I got over to Rockridge way early for my appointment with the chiropractor (aw heck, let's just call her Dr. Doyle), so I took a walk around the block. My hip and leg were getting more sore so I stopped in at the store/coffee house next door and got an iced jasmine tea. The guy at the counter referred to Dr. Doyle as the "neighbourhood miracle worker" and said that a few times a year she'll charge patients half-price for treatments and then donate all her proceeds for the day to a charity like breast cancer research, which made me like her even more. I had time so I took another walk around the block, simply because I could (painful thought it was). I went in for my appointment and noticed she was a few minutes behind schedule which is no problem because her regular appointments are short. As she finished with the guy before me, the guy scheduled after me shuffled in. He looked like he was really uncomfortable so I offered to let him switch with me, which he thanked me for but declined. Dr. Doyle and I talked about the second set of x-rays, which showed that I was slightly back in alignment and then she measured my hip and leg alignment and noted that they were off again. She did the adjustment and as we were settling the bill, I saw her fliers for an event later in the month where new patients pay 1/2 price if they bring in groceries to help feed the poor. So, if you're in the East Bay and are looking for a chiropractor without the violent snap and crackle of other chiropractors, let me know and I'll send you the flyer.

Anyway, I felt even better after the treatment, good enough to toodle through Trader Joe's for a few things. I needed to take an ibuprofen this morning and the hip and leg still get tired pretty quickly, but I am amazed that I'm able to sit nearly pain-free and stand up without a painful "hitch" and can do things more easily like clean litter boxes and vacuum the floor. I don't feel so good about having spent over $800 on getting my back fixed, but am thankful that most of that will be reimbursed. I'm thankful to my Internet Friends who, even if they couldn't come over to help (being across the country or in Europe and all that), sent me loads of good wishes and healing vibes. I am also thankful beyond description for friends like S, G & C, who have now seen me at my most crippled and helpless; a state I never, EVER wanted anyone to ever have to see me in. They are my heroes. I do wonder, sometimes, if I'll ever be able to stand up and not have to think about standing up. Or leaning down. Or walking.

And now I really, really, truly hope that this is the LAST post about my damn back!

Labels: back pain, Billie, friendship, furkids, gratitude, JesusBloodyChrist, Simon

   ~~ victoria on 6:49 PM ~~    1 comments

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23 September, 2007

Simon Sunday: Dr. Snugglebunny On The Case 

I'm now going into my third week of back (and leg) pain issues. Last week I was virtually crippled with it: I missed work for three days and was effectively house-bound from Friday evening until I went to the acupuncturist on Tuesday. This level of pain--and its duration--is all new to me and has, at times, been terrifying for the cats. They're used to my Donald Duck temper tantrums, but did not know what to do when I'd shriek in agony just trying to sit on the toilet or get into or out of bed.

Last weekend it got to the point where they had to make adjustments to their own habits. I pretty much couldn't bend down to put their food dishes on the floor in their usual spots, so they started eating on higher surfaces: kitchen table for Simon, on top of my bed for Billie. They both had a bit of difficulty adjusting to this (especially since I always shoo Simon OFF of the table when it was time to feed them). Billie still pulls Diva spells where she really doesn't want to be bothered with jumping on the bed to eat, but eventually she will, if sometimes grudgingly.

The other adjustment they've made is not having their litter boxes scooped out quite as often as they're used to. On a good day, I can scoop once in the morning and once in the evening: most days they just get scooped once. The adjustment was made easier thanks to Gwen and Chad, who brought over a fresh bag of litter. I had managed to dump and clean one of the boxes and Chad volunteered to dump the second box, bless him, and he filled both boxes with new litter.

(I cannot even begin to express my gratitude for some amazing friends--near and far--who have volunteered to do shopping and other chores for me and insisting that I quit trying to be macho about getting things done around here. You all know who you are and you all completely, truly and utterly ROCK! Thank you!)

Besides making lifestyle adjustments, Billie and Simon have been first-rate caregivers, at least as much as wee beasties can be. The way they behave is a good barometer for how well I'm doing. I knew last Sunday night that I was in big trouble when Simon AND Billie slept in bed with me and never fought or even growled at each other (conversely, since I've become slightly more mobile and shriek less often, their "cease fire" has lifted and they're fighting more often). Simon has been doing everything he can to keep me comfortable when I'm in bed. He'll curl up on my "lap" when I'm laying on my back and he's been giving me neck and shoulder rubs until his little paws were worn out. He also brings me his toys when he thinks I need cheering up (though I can't get down to pick them up). Billie gives me lots of head and leg rubs of encouragement and greets me cheerily after I get out of bed (which takes me forever and requires a lot of cussing) in the morning.

Thankfully, acupuncture seems to be helping, though it's tiny bit by tiny bit. It's been incredibly frustrating having my life stop and nearly being unable to take care of myself--and the furkids--at all. I've been lucky to have help available (even if I am too humiliated to ask anyone to wash my knickers for me) and to have had the best Feline Care in the world. If only I could teach Billie and Simon to shave my legs for me...

A co-worker and I talked about prioritizing caring for myself last week and he asked me, "gee you think your body's trying to tell you something?"

"Yep." I replied. "Message received!" I'm going to make some big changes to my life: I don't want my family to ever have to endure a month like this one, ever again.

Labels: back pain, Billie, cats, friendship, furkids, gratitude, Simon, Simon Sunday

   ~~ victoria on 3:37 PM ~~    0 comments

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21 March, 2007

42 

The answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything. Also the number of candles on my virtual birthday cake.

Unlike last year, this was a very good birthday (even though I went to work today). I had a couple of hiccups early on: a dream where my alarm went off and I switched off the alarm but did not turn on the radio (as I do every morning to listen to the news). I sort of started waking up and suddenly wasn't sure if it really was a dream or if my alarm really did go off, so I jolted awake and looked at my clock. 3:16 a.m. Feh! I went back to sleep.

Then Specialty's didn't have any chocolate breakfast cake when I stopped on my way to the office. It was 9:00 in the bloody morning, were they waiting to sell breakfast cake for LUNCH? Gah! I haven't had that for more than a year and the one day I really wanted one...

But work was all right. My boss wished me a happy birthday when she got in and then at lunch she brought me the most gorgeous bouquet of tulips, orchids and gerbera daisies. And I got a lot of birthday greetings from my wonderful friends.

Then I met up with two of my most favourite people, Gwen and Pete and we went to visit the wild parrots over in Ferry Park (they're part of the Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill flock). I had cut up an apple to feed them and we had a good time feeding parrots (except for the BITING part, ow) and taking photos. We hustled for the 5:45 ferry back to Alameda and took Pete to the BART station. Gwen bought me a steak and cheese pub pie and a Black Kiwi (Guinness + Steinlager = YUM) and we had a really nice visit, something we hadn't done in way too long because things and stuff get in the way.

When I got home, my package from Olivia (BFF) was on my doorstep, an absolutely beautiful book called The Philosopher Cat and my kitties were extremely glad to see me, though I suspect that was more to do with them being hungry.

So, all told, 42 is off to a 100% better start than 41 and I really want to believe it's a sign of things to come.

Labels: friendship, gratitude

   ~~ victoria on 11:08 PM ~~    0 comments

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28 January, 2007

Simon Sunday: Just glad we're all still here 

Day Eighteen: It's been a long, long week
Originally uploaded by Planet Vicster.

It's been a very rough week on my friends and their furkids. One friend had one of her cats mauled by her dogs and G&T's beautiful Miss Kitty had to be euthanized after she developed breast cancer and got suddenly very ill. Another friend is facing the end of the life expectancy for her 2 hamsters and I learned that an online acquaintence had recently had to euthanize his cat after a bout of stomach cancer.

Simon and Billie are having difficulty understanding why mom is hugging them a lot more all of a sudden. I'm just so damn grateful to have these two furkids in my life that I won't even let myself imagine my life without them. That would be just too awful.

Tonight we honour those furry cherished ones who have left our world. Whatever it is that's on the "other side", it will be so much more beautiful for having them. We honour the humans they've left behind and hope that their hearts heal quickly. And we send love and good healing happy thoughts to anyone who is unwell today, whether they're furry, finned, feathered or human.

Love and peace from Simon, Billie and Vicster.

Labels: Billie, cats, friendship, furkids, grace, gratitude, Simon, Simon Sunday

   ~~ victoria on 6:35 PM ~~    0 comments

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01 January, 2007

Happy New Year! 

New Year's Fireworks over San Francisco
Originally uploaded by Planet Vicster.

So, 2006 is over. It was an interesting year for me. It seemed as though it was going to pick up right where 2005 left off, which was NOT a good thing. The second half of the year was so completely different from the first half that it seems like two different lives, let alone two different years, or two different halves of a year.

To my amazing friends who made 2006 a good year after all, thank you and I love you all!

To everyone, may 2007 be our best year, ever!

Labels: friendship, Happy New Year

   ~~ victoria on 1:26 PM ~~    2 comments

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16 December, 2006

Lesson 

Often, I'll have conversations with people where they talk about having to learn to be with themselves. Most often these observations take place after they've had a break-up and they're transitioning from a partnership to life as a single person.

I seem to have the opposite problem: I'm having to learn how to be with other people. I don't mean this in the sense that I can't go out in public; I don't have a social phobia (though I do get uncomfortable if I'm in really large crowds). It's much more, I don't know, intimate, I suppose.

My recent bout with food poisoning (or stomach flu, possibly) is a perfect example. As I was riding the ferry into San Francisco on Thursday, I was telling my friend about my illness and how I foolishly dragged myself to the grocery store (twice!). I suddenly realized that I didn't need to do that. I have friends who offered to go to the store for me and I could should have thanked them and given them a list and some money. I know that I would not (and have not) hesitate to come to their aid, when they need it. I really need to learn to let go and let my friends in.

I promise I'll do better next time. (Though I hope next time is a really really long way off!)

Labels: friendship, navel gazing, sick

   ~~ victoria on 9:04 PM ~~    0 comments

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