Senior Year 2/3

Yay, I'm a senior and have the first week of classes down. Only 14 more weeks to go until Christmas break. If only graduating would mean I was done with school. Ha! I scoff at four years of post-secondary education. Clearly, 8-9 is the way to go.

The best part of this year, however, is unlike in high school when I was actually learning important stuff as a senior, I am done with my bio major classes. Welcome to the dumbest schedule ever. I actually wanted to take Physical Chemistry for Life Sciences but clearly, Philosophy of Technology, which conflicts and is a REQUIRED class for science major students, is more important to becoming a scientist. Clearly, right? But anyways, I have that and other very challenging classes, such as Intro to Psychology and Survey of Sociology. Most of my classes don't even have finals. What a waste of a semester.

At least there's biochem?

Donate Life!

I saved a life today. Only one, not six.

I've decided that no matter how much I eat, drink and hope, I cannot give whole blood. Passing out and throwing up is no fun. Being freezing cold and hopelessly tired for the rest of the week is even less fun. No more blood donation for Kailey.

Luckily, I can satisfy my somewhat insane desire to donate blood by donating platelets instead. Not only are they super important... everyone on chemo needs platelet transfusions.... but they only take your platelets. They put the rest back in... no more passing out from lack of blood volume! Sure, it takes a while longer (about 2 hrs, compared to about 45 minutes) but I got to watch tv, eat snacks and take a little nap while my blood got centrifuged. Also, they don't make you wait around after you're done, terrified you might pass out later and sue them or something. And I can donate every 48 hrs, up to 52 times per year. Regular platelet donor, here I come!

Hot In Here

We have no air conditioning. We haven't had air conditioning since August 4, actually, but I wasn't here so I didn't mind so much. But now I'm back and it is a wonderful 85-90º in here. (My thermostat only goes in 5º increments so I have no idea what the actual temp is.)

I'm not quite sure what they're repairing but according to the memo oh-so-lovingly shoved under my door, they may or may not be ripping out my wall/floor area near the AC unit. I think the intense ripping will be done next door but I'm still supposed to be prepared for a visit from maintenance just about anytime during the day. Oh joy!

At least the projected completion date is the first day of classes. Until then, I suppose my frozen wash cloth personal AC will just have to suffice.

I <3 CQ

It has been a rough few days. On Saturday, I went to visit Ty. Usually I don't visit after camp until the boys' birthdays in mid-September. But I'm pretty sure Ty won't be alive by then :-\. It was nice to see him again, especially when he had some good moments. He liked the jelly fish exhibit at the zoo... mostly the lava lamps they had for scenery. Kids are so weird. Exotic, exciting animals? Eh, take 'em or leave 'em. Lava lamps? Oh boy! We also baked a cake. Oddly enough, Nate loves baking, too, so that was a good activity and Ty really liked it. Mr. Meticulous precisely placed each sprinkle while Nate's cake looked kind of like it fell off the counter, the dog licked some of it and we had to piece it back together. Oh, and it was probably 25-30% composed of his spit from his repeated licking.

But as much fun as that was, the "blah moments" were far more numerous. When I got there, Ty was crapped out on the couch with a headache. He slept in the stroller for most of the zoo... again, with a headache. After dinner, he decided he didn't feel good enough to go watch fireworks, which was the original plan, so he wanted to have a movie night instead. But then he ended up getting yet another headache and feeling extra crappy with his developing cold that he went to bed at little before 8:00. Then he woke up around 6:00, moaning and groaning in pain, which lasted well after I left.

Then to make everything more officially sucky, they met with hospice yesterday. Its not like I don't know that he's dying and I knew the hospice set-up was coming but still, making it official sucks a little extra.

But despite all this, my weekend/week so far hasn't been so terrible. On Sunday, I went to Cedar Point with a few girls from camp. They all knew I had just been at Ty's and what that situation is... and luckily, they all "get it"... some, unfortunately, really, really get it because they've lost their campers, too. 99% of everyone else I talk to pretty much just skirt the issue. I know its not something they want to talk about... and really, beating it into the ground isn't going to change anything... but sometimes I just wish people would acknowledge stuff. Don't shut down and get all awkward when I mention camp. Ok, tangent rant over... so yes, best group I could have spent that day with. And then, last night, camp sent an email informing us that Ty and another kid (Jacob, officially got "sent home" the other day) are doing very bad right now, please send them some support. Within about an hour, I got about 15 facebook messages asking if I was ok and whatnot.

Allegedly

I hate the local news. At least while I'm at school, I can watch only WPXI and for the most part, they all know how to speak. When I'm home, however, I'm more tempted to watch good ol' WTOV and get my "shitty state of the Ohio Valley" update. They, unfortunately, cannot string a coherent sentence together if their lives depend on it... Easter commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, I do believe, is my personal favorite.

Oh well. That's not my beef with them today. I hate that while reporting on a crime--any crime... like from kid stealing a pack of gum from the gas station to a double murder--they throw the word allegedly in every 3-4 words.

No, no, you morons. There is no "alleged crime." That dude has bullet holes in him. He was not "allegedly shot." He was just plain "shot." Now Bob Smith that they arrested is the "alleged shooter." Yay for our innocent until proven guilty justice system. So rather than saying something like: "Two men were allegedly shot in an alleged shooting today on the North Side. Bob Smith was arrested as the alleged shooter." Say: "Two men were shot today on the North Side. Bob Smith, the alleged shooter, was arrested." Not only does that sound infinitely less stupid, look at how many fewer words that is for you to screw up!

Somewhere, George is crying.

Our long national nightmare has ended. It appears as though Brett is getting reinstated in a little over 12 hrs. Really, Brett? All that crying when you retired and now you change your mind, toying with us for months??! You are ripping poor George's "Brett is gone!" wounds open again.

At least the word on the street is that he's coming back to play for the Packers. Thank goodness! Until about 10 minutes ago, it looked as though he was coming back, only to attempt to be traded to another team. Probably for a ridiculous amount of money. That, dear Green Bay messiah, would make you the most hated athlete of all time... make T.O. and Michael Vick look kind of like teddy bears, in fact. You are Brett Favre. You wear #4 for the Green Bay Packers and manage to win division championships despite your rather geriatric age. Franchise player. The end.

Update: Bastard is a New York Jet now. No one loves you anymore, Brett. :-(

Old

I am officially old today.

My day started off great: Sarah and I went shopping for my official medical school interview suit. Thank you, terrible economy, for spurring insane sales. I got a jacket, pants and two shirts to wear under for as much as the jacket would be at its regular price. Now that is a deal.

The first "I feel old" moment, however, was spurred by this lovely new purchase. There I am, standing in the dressing room in my fancy new clothes and holy cow, I look like a real live grown up. Not a pseduo- still in college and living off of mom and dad's money but technically legal kind of grown up.

A little after coming home... and eating too much... I decided to take a walk around my neighborhood. Then the real "I feel old moment" came. I walked past a friend's old house and thought "Wow, that little pine tree is really big now." Number one sign you're getting kind of old: You identify every house in your neighborhood by who used to live there after realizing that you don't know about 60% of your neighbors. Being shocked at how much a tree has grown, however, probably comes in at a close second.

Add all that to Ty telling me that I could be a mom and I believe that officially makes us old now.