Monday, July 28, 2014

In the meantime...

We have a new project going on! Check it out: Curly Brewski

*But we'll have a new entry here soon enough!

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Sunday, June 16, 2013

A visit to the "Specialist"

C: When I'm not sitting in front of the television playing Call of Duty: Black Ops II, I'm very supportive. So when she said, "I'm going to have to be  examined by a specialist," I finished that match, saved the game, shut off the PlayStation properly, and jumped right to her side. My words could only do so much, as the timing and uncertainty of it all was scary. Regardless, it was my job to stay positive and keep her in high spirits (no, not with alcohol). I was equipped with loads of positive energy but not with enough foresight to recognize the significance of this "specialist."
I still remember walking up to the office door and reading, "Breast Specialist." This man she was going to sit in private with was a master. He is a black belt, a commander, connoisseur, lord and guru of breasts! Before she went inside I tried every way possible to remind her just how much she meant to me and that I'm here if she needs me for anything. If I let her go into that office questioning my love, a man with the skills of a breast-blacksmith was going to sweep her off her feet. I don't even think he... this doctor/specialist... had a name. Such a minor detail is completely insignificant anyway. Why does a man that's so good with his hands need a name?
I kept it cool once she went inside. Ok, I'm lying... I lost all my cool. I was nervous! She thought I was concerned about the results of the exam but I was worried she'd look out of his office and say, "I'm going to be a while, you should go home." But she came out smiling and said that she had nothing to worry about. I'm very happy to know that she's well but I'm still not sure if I have anything to worry about.

M: During my first physical, I nonchalantly mentioned to my new doctor that I thought perhaps, maybe, somehow, I was feeling a lump in my breast. She examined me and sent me immediately for an ultra sound. I was a little spooked. For over a year I had visited doctors and been told that this supposed lump I was feeling was no big deal -- despite my family history of breast cancer/disease. When I returned to her for my results, she explained that not only was there a lump in my breast, but a cluster of others. My heart sank as she referred me to the hospital's chief of breast cancer surgery.
The following weeks were brutal. One exam and procedure after another, in order to determine the most appropriate treatment. I'd cry on the phone just trying to make my appointments. You want to stay positive but sometimes the best you can be is human. And this human was afraid.
I felt a little more at ease once I researched my surgeon and saw that his card read "Breast Specialist". He must know what he's doing, I thought. This didn't seem to put C at ease for whatever reason.
My first major procedure with the surgeon took hours. He asked me extremely thorough questions, as would any great, blonde, blue eyed, fit, single, chief of staff, award winning doctor. He asked me things like How old are you? and Are you single? and How long have you been with him? and Is it serious? and What does he do for a living? and But do you love him? I mean he was just so attentive. Once we were done laughing, talking politics, poetry, and with my procedure, we decided on the surgery I was to undergo and all the steps/mini procedures I was to complete in the meantime.
Thankfully, my surgery went extremely well. It was certainly frightening. But I was lucky to have such a sensitive doctor. He must have seen the worry in my eyes because while he was gathering his instruments he told me repeated how gorgeous I was (such sweet bedside manner). I replied, I bet you tell that to all the topless girls on your operating table!
The mass was removed and in less than a month I go for my follow up visit which will determine what ongoing treatment/exams need to be done. C was and continues to be extremely supportive throughout it all. No matter how many times I tell him to just pick me up afterwards, he never EVER lets me go to or stay at the surgeon's office alone.


Tuesday, February 5, 2013

What's on TV?

C: Prior to moving in together, I didn't really watch too much television aside from NBA and NFL games. Of course we could look a few years back when I would wake up early on Saturday mornings to catch some cartoons but that was in the past. I try to keep away from the nonsense that fills the airwaves now-a-days. Recently, I've managed to occasionally catch an episode or two of Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead. Mainly because of the action. But I can't commit to these shows. It's all become too demanding and there's a big to-do list everyday (filled with errands and chores) that deserves much more of my attention. When I have some down time, I will join her in front of the TV for a few minutes but really just to keep her company. I know she appreciates it and we all know the saying, "A happy Squirrel means one less quarrel!"

M:  He truly should be in Guinness World Records for the amount of time he can sit in front of the TV. Name a show and I bet you he's seen every episode, the making of, and every post film documentary and interview.  The fervency with which he HAD to watch every show to hit the airwaves made me think that he had picked up a side job reporting for TV Guide. When he found out about Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead, we spent MONTHS catching up on all the seasons we missed. I'm talking hours upon hours of watching episode after episode. I felt like one of the zombies from how glazed over my eyes had become. I can totally understand watching two episodes back to back... but ten or more?! At times I tried to intervene... how much can a girl take?! But, when you love someone you do crazy things - like watch 8 hours straight of blood and guts. Eventually, I myself became a fan of both Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead. Or was I brain washed? Either way it doesn't matter because as soon as I became a fan, all he wanted to watch was The Real Housewives of New Jersey. And don't you dare try to change the channel when Teresa is explaining what she said in the tabloids!



Monday, November 19, 2012

Prepping (Alone in the World)

C- I just knew it would hit the fan when the news of Hurricane Sandy started filling the airwaves. Realizing that electricity and gas were going to be compromised due to a power grid collapse in the northeast, I had to tap into my most masculine qualities as a hunter/provider. Without causing any panic I started stock piling and taking all necessary precautions to bug in with my beautiful girlfriend. I wanted to ensure that she would feel comfortable and protected inside even though anything would be possible outside. Once the power went out, all my preparations became worthwhile. About a week later our electricity came back on and all was well.

M- Welp, at least I know now that it'll just be me, myself, and I for the apocalypse. Without batting an eyelash or budging from the couch, C responded with a reassuring Oh, okay to my A HURRICANE is coming! Not exactly the response I was looking for. Why wasn't he concerned? He must have a plan, I thought (I hoped). For weeks I urged him to buy batteries, bottles of water and canned food to get us through what was to come. And for weeks, he looked at me like I was foolish. That is, until the electricity finally went out (he says he was watching MSNBC when it happened but I'm pretty sure he was playing Playstation). It was at that moment that something in him snapped.  Unfortunately that thing was his will to live. He laid down and closed his eyes as if the world had officially ended. But babe, I said in bewilderment, it's still daylight out... we still have time to go buy supplies before it gets dark. I couldn't tell you what he said to me in response.  Everything that came out of his mouth at that point was incomprehensible. Gibberish like. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was dementia. I was losing him for sure. Pull yourself together!, I yelled. I tried everything I could to lift his spirits but my beating him in UNO seven times in a row did nothing for his morale. I even tried reminding him of all the doomsday tactics he had learned while religiously watching shows like Revolution and The Walking Dead. But nothing could motivate him. Thankfully we got our power and heat back after a week. He was one day shy of eating our pet goldfish, Wellington, for dinner. Wellington is made out of wood, by the way.

 
 
Update: C has since spent hours watching Doomsday Preppers. I'm not sure what for.
 
*Our deepest thoughts and prayers go out to all who were seriously impacted by Hurricane Sandy.