In case you needed another reason to hate Walmart

Who's selling only "W" (as in George W. Bush) brand ketchup in all stores? - Walmart

Who's political action committee has contributed crazy amounts of money to the republican party - Walmart

Who's the big bad evil corporatioin keepin' the people down? - Yeah, It's Walmart.

So if you have a choice, shop at costco. They pay employees much higher wages and give them much better benefits that most large retail outfits. And they're giving money to the right guy. If you think Bush is the right guy, maybe you should read this.

07.26.04 6:20am(1 comment)

*whine*

Wahhh...

07.13.04 6:04am(0 comments)

“Let’s get this fucking thing over with” -Dr. Barker

The whole ordeal wasn't too horrible, I guess. Mom and I got there at 6:30 in the morning and they prepped me for my surgery at 8am. The biggest issue surrounded the IV, big surprise. I told the doctor about my huge issues with needles, and he just sort of laughed it off saying that everyone has some problems with needles. Despite my continued warnings to him, and then also to the woman who gave me the IV, they figured I would be able to just look the other way and everything would be fine. They were wrong.

I really can't justify my issues with needles, but its the one thing that can gaurantee a panic attack for me. The origin of this near phobia, I think, comes from the constant hospital stays of my loved ones when I was growing up, and perhaps, I developed some sort of negative association to syringes, shots, getting blood taken, and naturally, IV's. I've been able to overcome some of it, handling shots OK, and even getting blood taken without passing out. In past surgeries, where the medical staff acknowledged my issue, I've received a shot of morphine or my hand numbed before the IV, both of which helped immensely. None of that this time.

So this poor med tech gives me the IV and I start freaking out. I think the biggest confusion came after the IV was in and I was still crying, squirming, hyperventilating, and just plain miserable. The lady kept saying, "The IV is in and it's all over!" I kept telling her, between sobs, "Yeah, I know, but the IV is still there, I can feel it, and it's freaking me out!" Mom joined me in the prep area, tried to calm me down, and gave the medtech a bit of hell about the whole ordeal. They paged the doctor, I got some happy drugs, and was able to calm down. Dr. Barker came in and said, "She warned me about this!" Yeah no shit I warned him, but it didn't do me much good. The whole kicker of the IV was that I didn't actually need it, but it was required in case something went wrong. They just dripped saline, and then my happy drugs, through there. My anesthesia was local.

Eventually, they wheeled me into the OR and got me all ready for surgery, cleaned my arm, draped a sheet over me, gave me more happy drugs, etc. All the while, they're carrying on this conversation about Nip/Tuck and estrogen in hamburgers, like I'm not even there. Next big deal was pumping my hand full of anesthesia. I whimper a bit, and Dr. Barker orders more happy drugs, makes the remark thats the title of this post and goes to work. It wasn't too bad after that, I heard someone say "That looks like a pretty bad case of carpal tunnel." Then, when I think they are decompressing my nerve, I get this shooting pain through my palm and down my fingers. Since I'm under the not so unbelievable assumption that I'm not supposed to feel anything throughout the surgery, I'm quite surprised and let out a little yelp. Dr. asks me if I'm ok, I say yes because the pain was short lived, and they give me more happy drugs. Within a few more minutes, they're done, stitching me up (which I can also feel when they pierce my skin), tell me I've done a good job, wrap my wrist up with a splint, and send me to recovery.

Some angellic nurse comes over, gently takes out my IV, and offers me coffee. God Bless that sweet, sweet man sent from heaven. They let me put my clothes back on, and I realize that it's practically impossible to get a 4 hook bra hooked with only 1 hand. Some other nurse comes along with my coffee and some graham crackers. That coffee tasted so good, like it was dripped from some heavenly percolator.

I get a nice little script for some vicadin, they give the dudette an ice pack, wheel my ass out to the car, and Mom and I head to the pharm. I call Gramma and Tom while in the car, and everthing is copacetic. Well, minus the blinding pain in my hand.

I'm so thankful that my Mom was able to come and take care of me. Oh man, I can't imagine getting through today without her. She finished my laundry today, fed me, refills my icepack, keeps me company and well comforted, and makes sure that I have everything that I need, including a capsule of vicadin every 3-4 hours. As much as we disagree and crank at each other at times, she's so wonderful for taking care of me, and I'm so glad my Mommy is here.

So thats about it for now. I'll keep you posted with all of the one handed follies I encounter.

07.08.04 3:44pm(0 comments)

The choice is clear

"And for those who evaluate a candidate's choice of operating systems when choosing their president, Smith's check showed that the Kerry site is housed on an Apache Web server running on a Red Hat Linux box. The Bush website is hosted on a Microsoft IIS 5.0 server and uses Microsoft's ASP.net."

07.01.04 6:32am(1 comment)