We've been to New York and New Jersey, seen several friends and lots of family (and one performance of "Mary Poppins"), and had unbelievable cat drama that began within a few days of leaving and that seems to be continuing. As I write this, my friend is on her way to the emergency animal clinic with one cat who, my friend says, "sounds like she is crying" and seems to have injured her leg. Previously, my other cat gave this friend such a hard time when she tried to give her her thyroid medication that we had to call around - from the east coast - to find someone in the Twin Cities who could do this for her. (Thank goodness, we found someone.)
It has been a very exciting - and expensive - vacation. I think we will have to stay put after this. I'm hoping things will calm down because I am worried about my furry babies.
Other highlights:
* I rode the subway - by myself - for the first time in about a decade. They don't use tokens anymore. Who knew?
* I saw the new Harry Potter movie. It rocks. And I've hidden the people on Facebook who are complaining about how much they don't like Harry Potter and are not going to read the books or see the movies. Blah blah blah. I'm going to see it again.
* Bean met two very friendly dogs this week and has come a long way toward being less afraid of dogs. I also spent some serious thought considering whether or not we should get a dog. Perhaps my cats's issues are simply psychic freakouts about this possibility.
We leave tomorrow at 8:00 am. I'm up now, waiting to hear back from the vet. It's going to be a short night.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Christina Hoff (yawn) Sommers
"All books have mistakes, so why pick on the feminists? My complaint with feminist research is not so much that the authors make mistakes; it is that the mistakes are impervious to reasoned criticism. They do not get corrected. The authors are passionately committed to the proposition that American women are oppressed and under siege. The scholars seize and hold on for dear life to any piece of data that appears to corroborate their dire worldview. At the same time, any critic who attempts to correct the false assumptions is dismissed as a backlasher and an anti-feminist crank."
Eyeroll. Yawn. More eyerolling. It would be nice if the Chronicle would stop soliciting anti-feminist diatribes from Sommers and Daphne Patai - whose own works on feminism are littered with inaccuracies and anecdotally-based conclusions - and would instead ask some actual feminist scholars to write about feminist scholarship. In the meantime, read Tenured Radical's excellent response.
Eyeroll. Yawn. More eyerolling. It would be nice if the Chronicle would stop soliciting anti-feminist diatribes from Sommers and Daphne Patai - whose own works on feminism are littered with inaccuracies and anecdotally-based conclusions - and would instead ask some actual feminist scholars to write about feminist scholarship. In the meantime, read Tenured Radical's excellent response.
U-Haul mystery.
Some of you know that Mr. Plain(s)feminist and I are about to become first-time homeowners. That process might be something I should blog about at some point, though I suspect that most of my readers have already become homeowners and would not be surprised by the things that surprised us (such as closing costs - ouch!). Many of my friends are already on their second or third houses.
Anyway, in preparation for our upcoming move, I decided to pick up some file boxes so that I could unload and then get rid of some filing cabinets that we don't really need any longer. I had a really good experience with U-Haul boxes (sturdy and just the right size) the last time we moved, so I looked up U-Haul on the internet and set off for one not too far from me.
When I got there, the address was printed in big numbers on the building, and there were storage and U-Haul signs, so I knew I was in the right place. However, there seemed to be no front to the building. There were two doors; one was a heavy, single door, set between two loading docks, with a sign above it that read "Sales." The other was a heavy, double door, next to a dumpster, and opened onto another loading dock. Both were windowless doors that looked like employee or back entrances. There was one window in the building, but there was shelving set against it on the other side. Both doors were locked. I felt certain that I was at the back entrance of the building, but when I tried to drive around to the front of the building, I found that there was no way to get there. The driveway ended and was blocked by a large dumpster. The building itself was set on a block next to a railyard, and the street did not go all the way around the block so that the southern and western sides of the building were inaccessible.
I finally sat in the parking lot and called the number I had gotten off the computer, which remained busy each time I called. Then I called the number on the side of the building and got an answering machine. There were plenty of cars in the parking lot, so I assume that they were open for business. But how their customers were able to get into the building to do any business, I will never figure out.
Anyway, in preparation for our upcoming move, I decided to pick up some file boxes so that I could unload and then get rid of some filing cabinets that we don't really need any longer. I had a really good experience with U-Haul boxes (sturdy and just the right size) the last time we moved, so I looked up U-Haul on the internet and set off for one not too far from me.
When I got there, the address was printed in big numbers on the building, and there were storage and U-Haul signs, so I knew I was in the right place. However, there seemed to be no front to the building. There were two doors; one was a heavy, single door, set between two loading docks, with a sign above it that read "Sales." The other was a heavy, double door, next to a dumpster, and opened onto another loading dock. Both were windowless doors that looked like employee or back entrances. There was one window in the building, but there was shelving set against it on the other side. Both doors were locked. I felt certain that I was at the back entrance of the building, but when I tried to drive around to the front of the building, I found that there was no way to get there. The driveway ended and was blocked by a large dumpster. The building itself was set on a block next to a railyard, and the street did not go all the way around the block so that the southern and western sides of the building were inaccessible.
I finally sat in the parking lot and called the number I had gotten off the computer, which remained busy each time I called. Then I called the number on the side of the building and got an answering machine. There were plenty of cars in the parking lot, so I assume that they were open for business. But how their customers were able to get into the building to do any business, I will never figure out.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Please welcome back to the blog...
...my buddy Wide Lawns, whom I've been following for a couple of years now. I got crotchety and de-blogrolled her a while back when she overhauled her blog and changed its focus significantly, but she is a fabulous writer and she has won me back. Check her out.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Chapter 37, wherein I gross myself out.
So, for the last couple of weeks, I have watched as hives on my leg grew larger and larger. They started out as two distinct red weals, not unlike the ones I had on the same leg during my chemo (Taxol) days. But then they got a little bigger and developed a red, raised ring around each with a paler center. I figured that I must be having a reaction to Tamoxifen, as "rash" is listed under possible severe reactions. I also suspected the raspberries and strawberries I've been eating with abandon, which have never caused problems before, but which are suspect fruit nonetheless.
Today, after determining that the spots were, in fact, getting larger and not fading away, I began to think that I ought to do something about them. First, I called my oncologist's office, and we discussed the possibility of my stopping the Tamoxifen for a week to see if what I had been calling a rash went away. Then, I went to see my healing coach (also an RN), who took one look and said, "That is not a rash. You need to stop diagnosing yourself and go to urgent care. Those look like bites, and they could be tick bites." Next, I had an appointment with my physical therapist, who also weighed in: "You've been having a lot of medications; you should see your oncologist and make sure it's nothing to do with those." So, I hiked across the hospital campus to my oncologist's office - which was, strangely and fortuitously, completely empty - and asked to see the nurse. The nurse took a look and got the NP, who took a look and said, "Tick bite. Go to urgent care." (They also reassured me that Lyme Disease would be easily treated since it had only been a couple of weeks since the red spots had shown up.)
I drove directly to urgent care and hung around until they opened. The nurse took one look and said...
...
..."ringworm."
UGH.
Disgusting.
And also, completely unexpected.
The doctor also took one look and said, "ringworm," though the ringworm test failed to show evidence of ringworm. So we did a Lyme Disease test, just to be sure. I expect a phone call in the next day or so with those results.
Meanwhile, I'm not allowing to go in the public pools (found this out a bit late, as I'd been in several over the last week and a half) until this clears up, and Mr. P. just had to wash the bed linens (for the second time this week - there was another vengeance cat pee recently).
At least it sounds like ringworm isn't actually a *worm*, which makes me feel a bit better about the whole thing. *shudder*
Today, after determining that the spots were, in fact, getting larger and not fading away, I began to think that I ought to do something about them. First, I called my oncologist's office, and we discussed the possibility of my stopping the Tamoxifen for a week to see if what I had been calling a rash went away. Then, I went to see my healing coach (also an RN), who took one look and said, "That is not a rash. You need to stop diagnosing yourself and go to urgent care. Those look like bites, and they could be tick bites." Next, I had an appointment with my physical therapist, who also weighed in: "You've been having a lot of medications; you should see your oncologist and make sure it's nothing to do with those." So, I hiked across the hospital campus to my oncologist's office - which was, strangely and fortuitously, completely empty - and asked to see the nurse. The nurse took a look and got the NP, who took a look and said, "Tick bite. Go to urgent care." (They also reassured me that Lyme Disease would be easily treated since it had only been a couple of weeks since the red spots had shown up.)
I drove directly to urgent care and hung around until they opened. The nurse took one look and said...
...
..."ringworm."
UGH.
Disgusting.
And also, completely unexpected.
The doctor also took one look and said, "ringworm," though the ringworm test failed to show evidence of ringworm. So we did a Lyme Disease test, just to be sure. I expect a phone call in the next day or so with those results.
Meanwhile, I'm not allowing to go in the public pools (found this out a bit late, as I'd been in several over the last week and a half) until this clears up, and Mr. P. just had to wash the bed linens (for the second time this week - there was another vengeance cat pee recently).
At least it sounds like ringworm isn't actually a *worm*, which makes me feel a bit better about the whole thing. *shudder*
Saturday, June 27, 2009
The MJ Furor.
Seriously, this is bizarre. The fan frenzy surrounding Michael Jackson's death is turning friend against friend. One of my Facebook friends has been defriended by one of *her* Facebook friends - and called a "douchebag" - for not liking Michael Jackson. I have a suspicion that this is not an isolated incident.
I also think it's odd that we are surprised by the internet and Twitter traffic his death has caused. This is what happens when an icon dies. Had Twitter been around when Princess Diana died, it would have happened then, as well. Further, while I am in agreement with the lamentations about the state of journalism and of America's attention span as evidenced by the media focus on Michael Jackson rather than, say, Iran, I also don't think this is anything new. Has there been any noteworthy media coverage on the Congo, lately? No? Thought not. At least in this case, there is a particular news item that is overwhelming other news stories, and it is not simply that America doesn't give a shit.
I also think it's odd that we are surprised by the internet and Twitter traffic his death has caused. This is what happens when an icon dies. Had Twitter been around when Princess Diana died, it would have happened then, as well. Further, while I am in agreement with the lamentations about the state of journalism and of America's attention span as evidenced by the media focus on Michael Jackson rather than, say, Iran, I also don't think this is anything new. Has there been any noteworthy media coverage on the Congo, lately? No? Thought not. At least in this case, there is a particular news item that is overwhelming other news stories, and it is not simply that America doesn't give a shit.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Guest Blogging on Feministe!
Wow, I am so excited - I was invited to guest blog at Feministe this summer! I will let you all know when this will be (now I have to think of something to write about...).
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Fat and food politics for breast cancer survivors.
I went to a sort of "spa day" yesterday that was held by my onc's office. It was lovely to have a positive, confidence-building experience like that with other survivors - we had healing touch sessions, massage, tai chi, etc. - but I am really rankled by the way that the issues of food and weight were handled. The nutritionist spoke in very vague ways about food, listing certain foods that had particular anti-cancer properties. That was helpful. What was not helpful was the following:
Telling a room of women of all shapes and sizes to "be as lean as possible without being underweight," which is a recommendation of the American Cancer Society. Here's the problem with that. The research on diets tells us that they don't work - including Weight Watchers. The vast majority - over 90% - of dieters (including Weight Watchers) gain all the weight back, plus more, within five years. Meanwhile, the stress on your body and heart of gaining and losing and gaining and losing weight is phenomenal. Heart disease is (I think?) the leading cause of death among women. Something to keep in mind.
Moreover, telling anxious women to lose weight (the nutritionist was rail-thin) without giving them some real guidelines for how to eat healthily and exercise sufficiently is just mean. And further telling them that the recommendation for daily exercise is 60-90 minutes a day is insane. How many of us would ever be able to do that? Most people would say, "I can't even come close to that - I give up." Further, it was unclear what she meant by "exercise," since one of the suggested activities to count into that 60-90 minutes was GARDENING. She also said that walking around in the office counted into that. So I think that the actual recommendation is for 60-90 minutes of ACTIVITY, and 30 minutes of aerobic exercise. But she was extremely vague and did not clarify this when asked. Perhaps she didn't know.
Finally, the food at this event was typical, midwestern lunch food - white bread, chicken, cheeses, green salad, and several pasta or other salads, with cake and brownies for dessert. How about using this as an opportunity to share whole foods and vegetables that women may be unfamiliar with? How about showing how delicious eating an anti-cancer diet can be?
What I came away with after her presentation were the (false) ideas that gardening is an aerobic activity; that Kosher meat is no different than conventional meat; that sugar is fine to eat in moderation (without any mention of paying attention to when you eat it and with what). I'm frustrated for the women there who are going to take this as true because the woman who said it has a lot of fancy certifications.
Telling a room of women of all shapes and sizes to "be as lean as possible without being underweight," which is a recommendation of the American Cancer Society. Here's the problem with that. The research on diets tells us that they don't work - including Weight Watchers. The vast majority - over 90% - of dieters (including Weight Watchers) gain all the weight back, plus more, within five years. Meanwhile, the stress on your body and heart of gaining and losing and gaining and losing weight is phenomenal. Heart disease is (I think?) the leading cause of death among women. Something to keep in mind.
Moreover, telling anxious women to lose weight (the nutritionist was rail-thin) without giving them some real guidelines for how to eat healthily and exercise sufficiently is just mean. And further telling them that the recommendation for daily exercise is 60-90 minutes a day is insane. How many of us would ever be able to do that? Most people would say, "I can't even come close to that - I give up." Further, it was unclear what she meant by "exercise," since one of the suggested activities to count into that 60-90 minutes was GARDENING. She also said that walking around in the office counted into that. So I think that the actual recommendation is for 60-90 minutes of ACTIVITY, and 30 minutes of aerobic exercise. But she was extremely vague and did not clarify this when asked. Perhaps she didn't know.
Finally, the food at this event was typical, midwestern lunch food - white bread, chicken, cheeses, green salad, and several pasta or other salads, with cake and brownies for dessert. How about using this as an opportunity to share whole foods and vegetables that women may be unfamiliar with? How about showing how delicious eating an anti-cancer diet can be?
What I came away with after her presentation were the (false) ideas that gardening is an aerobic activity; that Kosher meat is no different than conventional meat; that sugar is fine to eat in moderation (without any mention of paying attention to when you eat it and with what). I'm frustrated for the women there who are going to take this as true because the woman who said it has a lot of fancy certifications.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Working for Water.
I just read this extraordinarily moving piece, and I wanted to share it with all of you:
"The Constant Potter".
"The Constant Potter".
Friday, June 05, 2009
Um, what should I call this? Celebrity news fail?
The sentences in italics appear in the article as clickable links for more information. This is so blatantly bizarre that I will just leave you to it:
Kelly Clarkson: I'm Tired of Hearing "the Fat Joke"Us Magazine - June 5, 2009 6:07 AM PDT
Kelly Clarkson says she's tired of being bullied over her weight.
"For seven years it's been happening. It's like, 'OK cool, the fat joke,'" she said during an interview with 2Day FM's Kyle and Jackie O Show in Australia.
Look back at the weight ups and downs of your favorite Idol stars!
Despite the taunts, the American Idol champ says, "I love my body. I'm very much OK with it. I don't think artists are ever the ones who have the problem with their weight, it is other people."
See stars who underwent dramatic weight losses
Clarkson has also come under scrutiny over her sexuality. She says she doesn't care if people think she is gay.
Look back at the most controversial Idol contestants of all time
Her only gripe?
"The rumors are not helping me on the dating front!" she said. "I prefer the boys. I'm extremely flattered when I do get hit on by girls, and I think it's hot, but I'm not into it. I like boys."
Check out 20 unforgettable moments from this year's American Idol finale
She said she's in no rush to find Mr. Right.
"I'm only 27, not 40 and still single!" she said. "I enjoy being single, I love work and I think people are so passive with relationships and I'm not that person."
See which Idol stars have gotten married or had babies.
Added Clarkson, "I'm an extremist, I'm either in a relationship or I'm not. I'm honest about it and I'll tell people, it's just there's nothing to tell. I have a very good life."
Kelly Clarkson: I'm Tired of Hearing "the Fat Joke"Us Magazine - June 5, 2009 6:07 AM PDT
Kelly Clarkson says she's tired of being bullied over her weight.
"For seven years it's been happening. It's like, 'OK cool, the fat joke,'" she said during an interview with 2Day FM's Kyle and Jackie O Show in Australia.
Look back at the weight ups and downs of your favorite Idol stars!
Despite the taunts, the American Idol champ says, "I love my body. I'm very much OK with it. I don't think artists are ever the ones who have the problem with their weight, it is other people."
See stars who underwent dramatic weight losses
Clarkson has also come under scrutiny over her sexuality. She says she doesn't care if people think she is gay.
Look back at the most controversial Idol contestants of all time
Her only gripe?
"The rumors are not helping me on the dating front!" she said. "I prefer the boys. I'm extremely flattered when I do get hit on by girls, and I think it's hot, but I'm not into it. I like boys."
Check out 20 unforgettable moments from this year's American Idol finale
She said she's in no rush to find Mr. Right.
"I'm only 27, not 40 and still single!" she said. "I enjoy being single, I love work and I think people are so passive with relationships and I'm not that person."
See which Idol stars have gotten married or had babies.
Added Clarkson, "I'm an extremist, I'm either in a relationship or I'm not. I'm honest about it and I'll tell people, it's just there's nothing to tell. I have a very good life."
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Hell and back, and integration.
In Reinventing Eve, Kim Chernik writes about the brave women who descend into Hel (one "l") and return (they wear a Hel-met - no kidding). In Surfacing, Margaret Atwood's main character "dies" and spends time in a world of the dead before coming back to her life, reborn.
It occurred to me today that I've been approaching living after cancer, living under the threat of cancer, all wrong.
I got a phone call this afternoon from my oncologist's office. When I heard, "This is Dr. X's office," my immediate impulse was to panic. 'Why could they possibly be calling me? They never do that. The only reason they could be calling now is to tell me that something is very, very wrong - right?'
In fact, they were calling to invite me to a special retreat for breast cancer and ovarian cancer survivors - food, massage, tai chi, and speakers on survivorship. All in all, a lovely day.
But the phone call still made the contents of my stomach sour. Thinking about cancer leads me down a path I don't want to go, and so I've tried to pretend it never happened - yes, I have these scars, but really, it's just a misunderstanding. Yes, I take these pills, but I am healthy, damn it. I hide from it and feel great, but every single time - *every* time - I am caught out by a doctor appointment, a change in treatment, a new celebrity who has been diagnosed, or, most recently, a new feature film about someone with cancer - I panic.
I'm tired of panicking. I feel like an animal that has been abused. I am cringing already, before the loud noise and the kick.
I think the problem is that I need to integrate this experience, somehow. I need to learn how to live with this in a way that isn't fearful, but that doesn't erase it, either.
So, despite my gut instinct to run screaming from anything pink, from anything at all suggestive of cancer, I think I will go to this retreat and try to figure out how to place these two worlds together and move forward.
It occurred to me today that I've been approaching living after cancer, living under the threat of cancer, all wrong.
I got a phone call this afternoon from my oncologist's office. When I heard, "This is Dr. X's office," my immediate impulse was to panic. 'Why could they possibly be calling me? They never do that. The only reason they could be calling now is to tell me that something is very, very wrong - right?'
In fact, they were calling to invite me to a special retreat for breast cancer and ovarian cancer survivors - food, massage, tai chi, and speakers on survivorship. All in all, a lovely day.
But the phone call still made the contents of my stomach sour. Thinking about cancer leads me down a path I don't want to go, and so I've tried to pretend it never happened - yes, I have these scars, but really, it's just a misunderstanding. Yes, I take these pills, but I am healthy, damn it. I hide from it and feel great, but every single time - *every* time - I am caught out by a doctor appointment, a change in treatment, a new celebrity who has been diagnosed, or, most recently, a new feature film about someone with cancer - I panic.
I'm tired of panicking. I feel like an animal that has been abused. I am cringing already, before the loud noise and the kick.
I think the problem is that I need to integrate this experience, somehow. I need to learn how to live with this in a way that isn't fearful, but that doesn't erase it, either.
So, despite my gut instinct to run screaming from anything pink, from anything at all suggestive of cancer, I think I will go to this retreat and try to figure out how to place these two worlds together and move forward.
Monday, June 01, 2009
For those of you who are thinking it's been a long time since I've blogged about cat pee...
...guess what? One of the cats peed on the bed yesterday. As always, we don't know why. We suspect it is the same old recurrent problem, which her thyroid medication has seemed to help until now. However, since we spent much of Saturday afternoon outside with the neighbors, where the cats could hear and see us but couldn't be with us, it is always possible that this was a vengeance pee.
I keep thinking that I wish she could talk so that she could tell us, but it occurs to me that, cats being cats, being able to talk would not solve the problem. I'm sure she would either refuse to speak or else hurl Elizabethan curses at me. And if it *is* health related, she would be highly indignant at my inquiries as to the state of her bladder.
I keep thinking that I wish she could talk so that she could tell us, but it occurs to me that, cats being cats, being able to talk would not solve the problem. I'm sure she would either refuse to speak or else hurl Elizabethan curses at me. And if it *is* health related, she would be highly indignant at my inquiries as to the state of her bladder.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
If you call yourself "pro-life" and you aren't protesting violence against clinics, then your name is a lie.
It is not terribly surprising, though it is very frightening and very sad, that yet another doctor who provided women with safe and legal abortions has been gunned down by the so-called "pro-life" movement. There are a lot of people who call themselves "pro-life" and who genuinely believe in protecting all human life; these people very often do not push to hinder women's access to abortion or to legislate against it because they understand that women have always had abortions, whether they've been safe or not, and that women will continue to have abortions even if abortion is outlawed - in which case, many women will have lasting health problems and many will die. These truly pro-life people also recognize that the business of terminating a pregnancy, no matter how much it may trouble them, is only *their* business if it is *their* pregnancy.
But reproductive rights aside, what do you call a movement that knows its members are actively targeting and commiting acts of intimidation and violence upon those it opposes? Certainly not "pro-life." Video-taping Planned Parenthood workers and putting the license plate numbers of Planned Parenthood clients on the internet is intimidation with the threat of violence. Driving cars into clinics (which was, believe it or not, defended as a "non-violent protest"), shooting doctors, and other clinic violence is more extreme, but such acts are on the same spectrum of behavior aimed at forcing someone else to behave as you would wish them to.
If I sound a little less diplomatic than I might normally sound, it's because I am furious that people are still being told by their movement and their "churches" that pretend to honor God that violence is an acceptable response. And any members of this movement or these "churches" who do not actively and without qualification oppose such actions are part of the problem, and the blood is on their hands. This just confirms what many of us already knew: for many of these people, life is not the issue. The issue is control.
Yes, I'm looking at you, Leslee Unruh, Randall Terry, and others.
But reproductive rights aside, what do you call a movement that knows its members are actively targeting and commiting acts of intimidation and violence upon those it opposes? Certainly not "pro-life." Video-taping Planned Parenthood workers and putting the license plate numbers of Planned Parenthood clients on the internet is intimidation with the threat of violence. Driving cars into clinics (which was, believe it or not, defended as a "non-violent protest"), shooting doctors, and other clinic violence is more extreme, but such acts are on the same spectrum of behavior aimed at forcing someone else to behave as you would wish them to.
If I sound a little less diplomatic than I might normally sound, it's because I am furious that people are still being told by their movement and their "churches" that pretend to honor God that violence is an acceptable response. And any members of this movement or these "churches" who do not actively and without qualification oppose such actions are part of the problem, and the blood is on their hands. This just confirms what many of us already knew: for many of these people, life is not the issue. The issue is control.
Yes, I'm looking at you, Leslee Unruh, Randall Terry, and others.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Are we back here again?
Today, I was talking with Lesbian Mom A on the playground after school. Lesbian Mom B asked me if my family was a two-mom family. I said, "no." She asked if I was a single mom. I said, "no - I have a partner, who is male." "Oh," she said, because there was a "lesbian party" this past weekend that presumably I would have been invited to had I been a lesbian mom and had the Lesbian Mom Club known who I was. And I felt a little bit like this would have been the time to say, "but I'm bi!" except that it would have felt a little bit like asking the popular kid, who hasn't invited you to her birthday party, if you can come to the party. (Also, I couldn't process where she was going quite fast enough, so that we were past it before I figured out what was going on.)
I think it's great that some of the lesbian moms at this school have gotten together as a group for support and friendship, and I don't think that all lesbian gatherings must include Bs or Ts or Gs, necessarily, but when I first moved here, I was delirious at the notion of finding some LGBT parenting community. Instead, I found The Lesbian Mom Club - which, it seems, does not even include all the lesbian moms - it seems to be a club for the cool and popular. And, on top of this, it's totally backchannel - there's no mention of the group in the weekly announcements that come home from school, so either you are invited to take part or you're not.
So, instead, I'm finding my little community one person at a time, and I guess I'm a little resentful that in 2009 we are still doing the Lesbian Club thing and not thinking about what other LGBT folks - and allies - might be lingering around the outside of the playground, wanting to come in and be part of the community.
I think it's great that some of the lesbian moms at this school have gotten together as a group for support and friendship, and I don't think that all lesbian gatherings must include Bs or Ts or Gs, necessarily, but when I first moved here, I was delirious at the notion of finding some LGBT parenting community. Instead, I found The Lesbian Mom Club - which, it seems, does not even include all the lesbian moms - it seems to be a club for the cool and popular. And, on top of this, it's totally backchannel - there's no mention of the group in the weekly announcements that come home from school, so either you are invited to take part or you're not.
So, instead, I'm finding my little community one person at a time, and I guess I'm a little resentful that in 2009 we are still doing the Lesbian Club thing and not thinking about what other LGBT folks - and allies - might be lingering around the outside of the playground, wanting to come in and be part of the community.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
It is decided (I think).
I will be teaching Eclipse in my intro Women's Studies course next spring. I think the feminist criticism that I have read of the series - that Bella has no real character, that the gender roles are fairly pathetic, that Native Americans are used in a way that is fairly disrespectful to them as people and also fairly stereotypical, the clear messages re. abstinence and the eroticization of same, and a whole bunch of other things that I won't get into now because I don't want to post too man spoilers - is dead on. Still, I finished reading the series this afternoon and then spent an hour going back and re-reading parts of the novel I'd just finished. Yes, I rolled my eyes many, many times during my reading, but yes, it is good enough that I will go back and read it again, and I no longer have any qualms about having just shelled out $40 to buy the last two books in hardcover.
I am really looking forward to classroom discussion next year. There is a lot to sift through. By then, the second movie should have come out, so my class will be able to watch Twilight and New Moon before moving on to the third novel, which is, in my opinion, the best of the four (and also the one that is probably best suited for discussion in a classroom, just because there is a lot more going on, plotwise and in terms of character development, than happens in the other books).
I am really looking forward to classroom discussion next year. There is a lot to sift through. By then, the second movie should have come out, so my class will be able to watch Twilight and New Moon before moving on to the third novel, which is, in my opinion, the best of the four (and also the one that is probably best suited for discussion in a classroom, just because there is a lot more going on, plotwise and in terms of character development, than happens in the other books).
Friday, May 15, 2009
A pretty good representation of "access".
I had three thoughts when I saw this.
First, I thought, "this is why even a cursory knowledge of physics is important."
Second, I thought, "this is why people with disabilities should be included in every aspect of construction planning."
And third, I thought, "this probably represents the state of affairs re. disability access in the U.S. fairly accurately."
First, I thought, "this is why even a cursory knowledge of physics is important."
Second, I thought, "this is why people with disabilities should be included in every aspect of construction planning."
And third, I thought, "this probably represents the state of affairs re. disability access in the U.S. fairly accurately."
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Appropriate behavior of medical personnel.
I find it fascinating to observe how the medical staff relate to me as a patient. This week, I've had an interesting experience that I'm trying to figure out how to handle.
In the radiation treatment room, there is a small dressing area, around which one could, if one wanted, pull a privacy curtain. There are also gowns and towels. Because I only need to take off my clothes from the waist up, I never bother with any of this. I probably would if I still had the right breast, but since I don't, and since I'm going to walk 12 feet and then open the gown and remove the towel, it seems silly and actually somewhat complicated - I'd have to wrap and clutch or tie the gown, or hold the towel in place while hopping up on the table. I don't know if the female personnel have ever felt uncomfortable with this, but they are always busy doing whatever it is they do - readying the table for the next patient or for me - while I am getting dressed/undressed.
But lately, there is a new radiation therapist, and he is a man. That's not really an issue for me - but he's a man who seems to be in need of a clue.
The first time he was there when I was there, he came into the room after I was already on the table. While I was getting dressed, he turned away to protect my privacy. The second time, when I arrived, the privacy curtain had been partly pulled. I took this to be a reflection of the presence of the male therapist, and I thought about it, and I thought about my usual procedure, and I decided that maybe I needed to mention what would otherwise be an elephant in the room. So, I said to him, "Look, I really don't bother with the gown/towel. I hope that won't make you feel uncomfortable." He seemed surprised, and said, "Oh! Well, what about how you feel?" I said, "There's nothing there, so I feel fine about it."
Now, I can understand that this might not be how the average patient reacts, and I can also understand that he might still have felt uncomfortable, but from my perspective, at this point, this falls into the category of Not My Problem.
The reason I mention this is because I am wondering if this had anything to do with what happened next.
At the end of my treatment, the table I have been lying on, which has been raised, needs to be lowered so that I can climb down. I was lying on my back, and had brought my arms down across my chest, resting them while I waited to be fully lowered. And, as the table was moving, this therapist was holding onto the side of it in such a way that his bare forearm was touching my bare arm. It was not a case of "oops, sorry, didn't mean to brush against you." It was a constant presence. And it felt deliberate. It felt as if perhaps he thought it was a buddy thing - or a way to show dominance. I really don't know what it meant or why he did it, but I do know that he was aware of it, because we both glanced down to see that our arms were touching. It was not an inappropriate touch in that it was not sexual, but it seemed inappropriate for him to be touching me at all. I didn't fully get this until later - at the time, I was too busy thinking, "hmm, this seems odd," to react.
Now, as a patient, I get handled a lot. Some of this handling is unpleasant, such as when someone incompetent is drawing blood or taking my blood pressure. Much of it, fortunately - because this is certainly not the case for everyone - has been gentle and/or generally unremarkable. But never, with the exception of one clear violation years ago, has it been this kind of unnecessary touching.
There is no reason to touch the patient, particularly a patient in any stage of undress, unless it is medically necessary.
The next day, this same therapist leaned over me - not once, but two or three times - to check a measurement. He was standing on my right side and needed to lean over to see the measurement, but in doing so, he leaned ON me, not just brushing my body but actually LEANING on me.
At best, this seems to show disregard for me as a patient, wouldn't you say?
But there's more. I have a pair of wire earrings; these were sitting on top of my clothes on the bench. He saw them and complimented them, and remarked that he could probably make them himself. Hey - he probably could. I'm not offended by that. But he said this while holding them. He picked up my earrings without asking. Further, I found out today that - still without asking or even notifying me - he took one and made a photocopy of it while I was on the table with my head stuck facing the other direction. His plan, another therapist told me today, is to try to make a pair of earrings like mine.
More power to him. Had he asked me if he could photocopy the earring, I would have said sure. But he didn't - and so now, I think I will have to speak with his supervisor about the lack of respect and of good judgment this therapist has showed to me as a patient.
In the radiation treatment room, there is a small dressing area, around which one could, if one wanted, pull a privacy curtain. There are also gowns and towels. Because I only need to take off my clothes from the waist up, I never bother with any of this. I probably would if I still had the right breast, but since I don't, and since I'm going to walk 12 feet and then open the gown and remove the towel, it seems silly and actually somewhat complicated - I'd have to wrap and clutch or tie the gown, or hold the towel in place while hopping up on the table. I don't know if the female personnel have ever felt uncomfortable with this, but they are always busy doing whatever it is they do - readying the table for the next patient or for me - while I am getting dressed/undressed.
But lately, there is a new radiation therapist, and he is a man. That's not really an issue for me - but he's a man who seems to be in need of a clue.
The first time he was there when I was there, he came into the room after I was already on the table. While I was getting dressed, he turned away to protect my privacy. The second time, when I arrived, the privacy curtain had been partly pulled. I took this to be a reflection of the presence of the male therapist, and I thought about it, and I thought about my usual procedure, and I decided that maybe I needed to mention what would otherwise be an elephant in the room. So, I said to him, "Look, I really don't bother with the gown/towel. I hope that won't make you feel uncomfortable." He seemed surprised, and said, "Oh! Well, what about how you feel?" I said, "There's nothing there, so I feel fine about it."
Now, I can understand that this might not be how the average patient reacts, and I can also understand that he might still have felt uncomfortable, but from my perspective, at this point, this falls into the category of Not My Problem.
The reason I mention this is because I am wondering if this had anything to do with what happened next.
At the end of my treatment, the table I have been lying on, which has been raised, needs to be lowered so that I can climb down. I was lying on my back, and had brought my arms down across my chest, resting them while I waited to be fully lowered. And, as the table was moving, this therapist was holding onto the side of it in such a way that his bare forearm was touching my bare arm. It was not a case of "oops, sorry, didn't mean to brush against you." It was a constant presence. And it felt deliberate. It felt as if perhaps he thought it was a buddy thing - or a way to show dominance. I really don't know what it meant or why he did it, but I do know that he was aware of it, because we both glanced down to see that our arms were touching. It was not an inappropriate touch in that it was not sexual, but it seemed inappropriate for him to be touching me at all. I didn't fully get this until later - at the time, I was too busy thinking, "hmm, this seems odd," to react.
Now, as a patient, I get handled a lot. Some of this handling is unpleasant, such as when someone incompetent is drawing blood or taking my blood pressure. Much of it, fortunately - because this is certainly not the case for everyone - has been gentle and/or generally unremarkable. But never, with the exception of one clear violation years ago, has it been this kind of unnecessary touching.
There is no reason to touch the patient, particularly a patient in any stage of undress, unless it is medically necessary.
The next day, this same therapist leaned over me - not once, but two or three times - to check a measurement. He was standing on my right side and needed to lean over to see the measurement, but in doing so, he leaned ON me, not just brushing my body but actually LEANING on me.
At best, this seems to show disregard for me as a patient, wouldn't you say?
But there's more. I have a pair of wire earrings; these were sitting on top of my clothes on the bench. He saw them and complimented them, and remarked that he could probably make them himself. Hey - he probably could. I'm not offended by that. But he said this while holding them. He picked up my earrings without asking. Further, I found out today that - still without asking or even notifying me - he took one and made a photocopy of it while I was on the table with my head stuck facing the other direction. His plan, another therapist told me today, is to try to make a pair of earrings like mine.
More power to him. Had he asked me if he could photocopy the earring, I would have said sure. But he didn't - and so now, I think I will have to speak with his supervisor about the lack of respect and of good judgment this therapist has showed to me as a patient.
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