Some merry christmas. Heather is sick this weekend. Nasty little virus. Sore throat and fever along with congestion. She just went to the doc on christmas eve. Not fortunate enough to get the positive strep culture; but just lucky enough to get some codine. Finally, tonight she shall sleep.
Surely you are chuckling to yourself with glee knowing that soon I will be struck down by the very same virus. Not so fast there skippy. I have hippies on my side. Thirteen months ago I got strep for what would turn out to be the first of two bouts in only two months time. My doctor was useless. In typical western medicine style, he simply scripted me some antibiotics and gave not a second thought as to why this had happened. I told him that I did not believe in taking medicines that only treated symptons. He nodded as if to understand what I was saying. Following a long conversation about all things Phil and my physiological shortcomings, he pushed me out the door with my script and a god damn sample box of some drug that helps your snoring go away by adressing only the sympton of the snoring. The cause of the snoring would remain untouched. This action would prove to be infuriating on two levels.
1. God damn marketing of drugs to me. Me- a guy who disdains advertising. Especially in the realm of pharmaceuticals. This was a sample box that was no doubt handed to the doc by a busty blonde in a mini skirt. Nothing wrong with that last part of course.
2. This drug treated the sympton and ignored the cause. I turn up my snoring nose at said box. Heather loves my principles and hates to sleep restfully.
My company had recently switched insurance which left me to cover half of the total doctor bill. Further infuriation. Upon examining my insurance info, it was discovered that the normally cheap Bushnell family had sprang for a secondary coverage plan called alternative care. A visit to a naturopath physician would call for a traditional $25 co-pay. Not a tough decision.
My visit to the N.D. was fantastic. We had a long conversation followed by some poking and thumping and an order for a full set of blood labs. She had some theories as to why my immune system was so limp, and the bloodwork proved her to be at least partially correct. Instead of prescribing drugs- we had discovered some root causes. Vitamins and natural supplements were used to adress these issues. A follow up visit? Not unless I deem one necessary.
Nearly a full year later my immune system is strong like ox. My suggestion to you is to go see a N.D. She wasn't even a hippie- I swear.
Back to christmas weekend. For several years in a row, we participated in a christmas eve pub crawl down North Lombard street. Unfortunately, the instigators of this tradition decided to join the world of the breeders. Goodbye nopo pub crawl. I had considered trying to get a group together to go out this christmas eve, but Heather's litttle viral friend has put a stop to those ambitions. Lots of movies and chair sitting for my holiday weekend. That's not such a bad thing, for I don't really like people that much and I am bound to see some hot actresses naked.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Living in Luxury
Class? I got class coming out of my infected toenail.
My poor Jeep Grand Cherokee (yet un-named) has been neglected for quite some time.
Once a happy urban single car family, Heather and I have become addicted to having two cars. About 19 months ago, I purchased a 2004 Mazda 6 because my new job position entailed a lot of driving. I did not want to pour the miles onto my beloved Jeep due to the seemingly eminent demise such actions would fortell. (How many misspellings so far Tony?) The Mazda was a pretty nice car that was very fun to drive. The Jeep was instantly relegated to dog carrying duty. This former luxury SUV has been broken into thrice and had the stereos jacked. Once by a real pro who left a broken window, but not even a scuff or scrape anywhere; other times by scumbags who cracked the dash because they probably realized after breaking the window that they knew nothing of how to get the stereo out. Poking and prodding of pry bars left my poor car weary and angry. So I gave up. The meth-heads won. No more stereo. We have been cruising the dogmobile for two years with no tunes. Just a big ass hole in the dash with wires hanging out. (Not a single busted window)
Last summer the rear view mirror just fell off. Ever have that happen? That is the second time it has happened to one of my vehicles. It feels like your car is totally falling apart; even though it's just a piece of glue on the windshield. So we have been cruising the dogmobile with no tunes and no rear view mirror for quite a while. The time has come to bring this vehicle back to it's former state of glory. I popped the old factory stereo back in this morning, and I just finished re-mounting the rear view mirror. I will now go and have some underpaid young men change the oil and lube the chassis. I will also expect a new oil filter and some air in the tires. I will also expect my air filter to be removed and shown to me in an effort to render the clips which hold the air filter housing totally limp and useless. I ask them every time I pull in if they would please refrain from the 107 point attempt to bend me over checklist and just stick to an oil, lube and filter. I have yet to have this request make it to the whole "team" as they all run around passing air filter boxes behind their backs and chanting code names out loud in unison in an effort to make their required safety procedures fun and entertaining. I dread visits to the oil change places, but god damn I hate changing my own oil. My time is very valuable.
I will also roll through the car wash which will undoubtedly leave the dogmobile (I think it has a name now) grinning from grill to tailpipe. I am such a good car owner. I should go to the car humane society and adopt some abandoned cars.
The dogmobile will be a classy ride again. Following it's lugging of the christmas tree this afternoon, I will vacuum the interior, wash the windows, and armor all the dash and seats. You will get into your car today and apologize to it for being such a poor car owner.
Last night I learned that I am really good at poker. Joyce finally lost money. I think I have seen that happen like five times over the four years of my monthly poker game. It was only four of us last nightfor the following reasons:
Noland, Mike and Bill are all in Las Vegas right now wishing they were sitting in my basement on a squeeky chair where every lean back is a risk of a full tip over.
Spencer has a girlfriend- so I should expect him to be at the poker game like never; so long as the relationship continues or the six month unselfish period expires.
Talk about selfish- Heather is hanging the christmas lights right now while I sit on my ass and listen to xmu. If you don't know what xmu is, then you better recognize. Or you should find out. Then you should listen to it. Unless you are in Atlanta, in which case album 88 is an acceptible substitute.
Oh well- I don't feel bad about watching her hang the lights because I don't give a shit about said lights. Same reason I don't feel bad about watching her clean the house. It is the perfect excuse. "If you care so much, then do something about it yourself". I am the best roommate ever.
My poor Jeep Grand Cherokee (yet un-named) has been neglected for quite some time.
Once a happy urban single car family, Heather and I have become addicted to having two cars. About 19 months ago, I purchased a 2004 Mazda 6 because my new job position entailed a lot of driving. I did not want to pour the miles onto my beloved Jeep due to the seemingly eminent demise such actions would fortell. (How many misspellings so far Tony?) The Mazda was a pretty nice car that was very fun to drive. The Jeep was instantly relegated to dog carrying duty. This former luxury SUV has been broken into thrice and had the stereos jacked. Once by a real pro who left a broken window, but not even a scuff or scrape anywhere; other times by scumbags who cracked the dash because they probably realized after breaking the window that they knew nothing of how to get the stereo out. Poking and prodding of pry bars left my poor car weary and angry. So I gave up. The meth-heads won. No more stereo. We have been cruising the dogmobile for two years with no tunes. Just a big ass hole in the dash with wires hanging out. (Not a single busted window)
Last summer the rear view mirror just fell off. Ever have that happen? That is the second time it has happened to one of my vehicles. It feels like your car is totally falling apart; even though it's just a piece of glue on the windshield. So we have been cruising the dogmobile with no tunes and no rear view mirror for quite a while. The time has come to bring this vehicle back to it's former state of glory. I popped the old factory stereo back in this morning, and I just finished re-mounting the rear view mirror. I will now go and have some underpaid young men change the oil and lube the chassis. I will also expect a new oil filter and some air in the tires. I will also expect my air filter to be removed and shown to me in an effort to render the clips which hold the air filter housing totally limp and useless. I ask them every time I pull in if they would please refrain from the 107 point attempt to bend me over checklist and just stick to an oil, lube and filter. I have yet to have this request make it to the whole "team" as they all run around passing air filter boxes behind their backs and chanting code names out loud in unison in an effort to make their required safety procedures fun and entertaining. I dread visits to the oil change places, but god damn I hate changing my own oil. My time is very valuable.
I will also roll through the car wash which will undoubtedly leave the dogmobile (I think it has a name now) grinning from grill to tailpipe. I am such a good car owner. I should go to the car humane society and adopt some abandoned cars.
The dogmobile will be a classy ride again. Following it's lugging of the christmas tree this afternoon, I will vacuum the interior, wash the windows, and armor all the dash and seats. You will get into your car today and apologize to it for being such a poor car owner.
Last night I learned that I am really good at poker. Joyce finally lost money. I think I have seen that happen like five times over the four years of my monthly poker game. It was only four of us last nightfor the following reasons:
Noland, Mike and Bill are all in Las Vegas right now wishing they were sitting in my basement on a squeeky chair where every lean back is a risk of a full tip over.
Spencer has a girlfriend- so I should expect him to be at the poker game like never; so long as the relationship continues or the six month unselfish period expires.
Talk about selfish- Heather is hanging the christmas lights right now while I sit on my ass and listen to xmu. If you don't know what xmu is, then you better recognize. Or you should find out. Then you should listen to it. Unless you are in Atlanta, in which case album 88 is an acceptible substitute.
Oh well- I don't feel bad about watching her hang the lights because I don't give a shit about said lights. Same reason I don't feel bad about watching her clean the house. It is the perfect excuse. "If you care so much, then do something about it yourself". I am the best roommate ever.
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