Spring? update

It was 21 degrees when I got up this morning. The sun is shining, which is nice, but it hasn't warmed up very much. The groundhog lied, lied I tell you.

Otherwise things are OK. Robin's lab work was all negative, so we are very relieved. I do not have the BRCA mutation, for whatever that's worth. I still come from a family with lots of cancer. They just haven't found the proper label for us. The mutation is dominant, meaning you just need one copy of it. So it came from Robin's father's side of the family, which had lots of boys, so no one thought about it. Now they have to give it some thought–there are girls in my grandchildren's generation.

On Sunday I walked down to Forbes and Murray and back–almost four miles. Had a terrible night with lots of leg cramps. I want to get more exercise, but I guess I have to take it slower–three miles next time.

I would have been in Kyushu today if I had gone to Japan, far away from the radiation and other devastation. I think about it every day. I'm not sorry I didn't go. They don't need another old woman to evacuate, or to use up food and power. I hope next year will be better. I am so sad for all of those people who were unfailingly wonderful to me.

I’m tired of “liberal” being a dirty word

 

My friend, The Subversive Librarian, has a great post based on another great post at Cuppa with Candace. Both are replies to a typical conservative email making the rounds about being tired of "how terrible it is that conservatives have to pay their fair share in taxes while we lefties undermine the American way of life and Completely Ruin Things For All Future Generations." If you want to know more about the email author, go to one of those other blogs. I don't want to write his name.

Here is Candace's post, with permission:

“I’m 57, and I’m Tired, Too”

By Candace Van Auken

     I’m 57. Until I became disabled in 2001, I worked hard at different jobs, routinely putting in 50 to 70-hour weeks. I did call in sick some days as my inflammatory arthritis worsened, but my employers just patched me through to meetings via telephone — there being no rest for the weary white-collar employee. For years, I made a very good salary, and I didn’t inherit my job or my income. In fact I had to work twice as hard to make 3/4 the salary of the average male employee. Now, given the economy and my disability, I’m probably going to end up living under a bridge, and that thought makes me feel both scared and tired. Very tired.

     I’m tired of being told that I’m a parasite when I spent many years paying taxes and Social Security. (I noticed, one year, that according to a newspaper article, I was paying three times the amount in taxes as a politician who earned twice what I did. Unlike him, I paid my fair share.) I was told by the government that I had worked for my Disability insurance, but according to people lucky enough to have never been seriously ill, I’m a drain on society. I’m tired of being told that conservative congressmen will take the money I paid in, and give it to the most obscenely profitable industry in the world — the oil companies — as “subsidies” necessary for “the creation of new jobs.” (It’s a fact: As oil companies profits have risen, the number of people they employ has decreased, a reality that apparently doesn’t trouble conservatives.)

Photograph of member from the Westboro Baptist Church at the United Nations headquarters in New York City, on the day of Pope Benedict's address to the UN General Assembly. Original photograph by David Shankbone. URL: http://blog.shankbone.org/about/
     I’m tired of being told that Christianity is a “Religion of Love,” when frequently I can read dozens of stories about members of the Westboro Baptist Church calling Catholic priests “vampires” and the daughters of our current president “satanic spawn…of a murderous bastard.” The Supreme Court just upheld the group’s right to stand outside the funerals of military heroes holding signs that say, “Thank God for Dead Soldiers.” The group launched a Web site called “Priests Rape Boys,” and they don’t just save their venom for Roman Catholics. They have claimed that Orthodox Christians are indistinguishable from Catholics, and they also criticize Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and other Baptists. After a 2008 earthquake in Sichuan China, the group issued a press release thanking God for the number of people who had lost their lives, and in 1996 they protested at the US Holocaust Memorial Museum in D.C. saying, “Whatever righteous cause the Jewish victims of the 1930s–40s Nazi Holocaust had…has been drowned in sodomite semen.” And in case you haven’t figured it out, yet: They are just as “typical” of Christianity as Al-Qaida is of Islam.

     I’m tired of being told that out of “Tolerance for Free Speech and Freedom of Religion” we must look the other way when conservative politicians encourage the murder of gay people in Uganda or aggressively proselytizing American Christian missionaries offer to rebuild areas of Sri Lanka devastated by a tsunami only if the homeless and destitute residents abandon their faith and convert to Christianity. (And when Sri Lanka’s government complained, the Bush administration threatened to cut off aid and credit to the country.)

     I’m tired of hearing that American workers must lower their standard of living and give up the right to bargain collectively as union members in order to slow the number of jobs being shipped overseas. Ending up with a living standard comparable to Bangladesh has never been part of the “American Dream.”

Prohibition era poster
     I’m tired of being told that that we can “Win the War on Drugs,” when it is obvious that the millions we pour into it are working just as well as Prohibition did in abolishing the sale and consumption of alcohol. And I am tired of being treated like a criminal whenever I go to buy OTC Sudafed at my local drug store. Are middle-aged, chronically ill women with stuffy noses the leading edge of a new crime wave?

     I, too, am tired of hearing wealthy athletes, entertainers and politicians talking about innocent mistakes, stupid mistakes or youthful mistakes, when we all know they think their only mistake was getting caught. I’m tired of people with a bloated sense of entitlement, rich or poor.

     I’m really tired of people who don’t take responsibility for their lives and actions. I’m tired of hearing conservatives blame “big government” or “reverse discrimination,” for all their problems.

     Yes, I’m sick and I’m tired. But I’m also glad to be 57. Because, maybe, I’ll live long enough to see people catch onto the many ways that conservative Republicans pretend to serve US citizens while actually doing the bidding of the large international corporations and interests that fund them. I sure hope so.

Candace Van Auken is a middle-aged woman disabled by autoimmune diseases, who was mightily ticked off by Robert A. Hall’s essay — now going the e-mail rounds — “I’m 63 and I’m tired.”
There is no way this will be widely publicized, unless each of us sends it on! This is your chance to make a difference.


Photo credit:


Copyright © 2011 by Candace L. Van Auken. All rights reserved.

Here are my friend's additions to the list:

  • I'm tired of being told that when corporations with near-perfect information and superior bargaining power join forces to lower wages, eliminate regulations, reduce benefits, and send jobs overseas, that's patriotic, free-market capitalism; but when employees respond by negotiating wages and work conditions collectively through unions, it's Marxism.
  • I'm tired of being told that when a public employee accepts a lower wage than she could earn in the private sector, in exchange for job security and retirement benefits, and then does that job for 30 years even if it sucks, she's a lazy good-for-nothing bureaucrat who has a lot of nerve expecting the state to fulfill its contract.
  • I'm tired of being told that government can't do a single thing right, and that only the private sector will provide quality products and service, by people who have apparently never had to deal with Comcast or AT&T customer service.
  • And I'm tired of hearing the chant of "WHAT PART OF ILLEGAL DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?" to justify splitting up families and denying basic human rights to children.

And me? I'm tired of all the lies, half-truths and stupidities: Obama is not a Muslim, He's certainly not a Socialist (I know, because my Chinese students think I am, and they should know), and all the other nonsense. We have so many important problems to solve. It is tragic that we have to be involved with these slogans, sound bites and obfuscation.

Telephones and email

Ronni Bennett has an interesting post about telephone culture. While I largely agree with her, sometimes I think I email are useful. I live in a duplex. For the past 2+ months the landlord has been renovating the other apartment. Mostly, it hasn't been a problem, but getting in and out of the driveway, which is the only entryway into the building, has become a huge problem. Last Friday I came home with bags of groceries and couldn't get past the two trucks in the driveway. My neighbor helped me, but I finally lost it, called and left an unpleasant message about entry and egress, all the dirt inside and outside the building, the light in my kitchen that no longer works, and so on. I really wanted to put all of this in an email. It probably would have been less sarcastic (I can be very bad) and generally more even tempered if he couldn't hear my voice. Emoticons don't have the same effect. I accused him of forgetting I was still here and paying rent.

When he finally called back he yelled at me–I guess, for complaining. I thought I was being wonderful. It took me a long time to finally complain (2 months). I don't like being yelled at, so I hung up. When he finally called back he said he thought we were cut off. I told him I hung up. He stopped yelling. I've never done anything quite like this, that is, being so forthright and not backing down. I'm rather proud of myself. And, I think he owes me an apology. This is supposed to be finished this week. I can only hope.

Oh, and he did some cleaning and the workmen are being more careful about the trucks.

Robin’s Challah

One of the treats of my life is Robin's Challah every Friday night at Shabat dinner. I smell it when I come into the house, and it comes out of the oven just before we light candles and sit down to eat. It's amazing!

Last night she made a special challah, in honor of Purim this weekend, and I think in honor of being done with the surgery.

IMG_1995
This challah is stuffed with onion and poppyseed. I behaved myself and only ate a couple of pieces, along with the rest of a very healthy, well-planned meal. But I think when I am 80 I will ask for a whole challah, just for me.

IMG_1997
I wish I could give you a piece.

A story I am sorry to write

Sometime last year Eli, my grandson, spit into a vial and sent it off for a genetic profile. He reported the results to his mother: he did not have Tay-Sachs, the usual Jewish disease, but he did have a mutation on his BRCA1 gene, the mutation that predisposes for breast and ovarian cancer, found in 1 in 40 Jewish people. Neither Robin nor I thought through all of the implications of this announcement. We both filed it away in the back of our minds and did nothing about it.

In November, Robin mentioned it during her annual gyn checkup and the doctor insisted she do something about it. She and Steve went to a genetic counselor, then had the test. Robin had the same mutation as Eli, so was at very high risk for breast and/or ovarian cancer. Since ovarian cancer is very hard to detect until it is too late, she decided to have her ovaries and tubes removed. This was done on Monday, and except for terrible nausea from the anesthetic or subsequent pain killers, the surgery was easy, there was no obvious cancer, and she is recovering quickly. She also had an MRI, a more reliable test than a mammogram, that found no breast cancer.

This mutation is dominant; either parent can pass it on. It slightly increases breast cancer risk in men, and probably increases prostate cancer risk, but this is very high for long lived men, in any case.

We don't know whether the mutation came from me or from Robin's father. There is ample evidence on both sides of the family. I have spent most of my life waiting for the family cancer to hit. It was actually a relief when I got the heart disease. Last week I went for the test. It will be about two weeks before I know. I don't intend to have any prophylactic surgeries: after all, I have reached the age of 76 without any cancer. I'll probably be a little more diligent about mammograms.

As Robin's cousin said: " I still can't believe that all of this is going on because of some gene that they found out about because Eli sent a spit-sample in to some random lab.   It's crazy." But maybe it saved her life. 

For more (accurate) information go to the FORCE website: http://www.facingourrisk.org/index.php

 

Sadness

I don't know how to express my sadness about what has happened in Japan. It's such a beautiful country–such terrible things shouldn't happen. Needless to say I've been thinking about it all weekend. I won't be going there this spring and I'm having a very hard time giving it up. I thought about delaying the trip, but I don't want to be there in summer. Maybe next spring. I keep thinking about all the things I needed to do and now don't have to think about. 

One of the gardens I wanted to see is in Ibaraki Prefecture, and may well be gone. I know the area was affected. But that's obviously the least of it. I will donate money to the Japan America foundation, but I wish there was something more I could do. 

Rain, rain go away

I didn't know whether to title this "Rain, rain" or "Groundhog is a liar." I keep thinking spring will come, and I'm sure it will, but it gives a little hint then produces an icy rain with snow in the forecast. I've made a new year's resolution. I know, it's a little late for new year's, but this is for next year: I will go south to warmth and sunshine for at least a week in the middle of next February. I have cousins in all the warm states. Next year, I'll find out who loves me enough to put up with me for a week.

I am taking part in a research study about cancer, Ashkenazie  Jewish women and the BRCA mutation that predisposes for breast and ovarian cancer. This is really easy. I just finished filling out the paperwork and when I finish this post I'll go spit in the tube and get the whole thing ready to return to the researchers. If you are interested in helping with cancer research, sign up for the Army of Women. (You don't have to be Jewish or to have had cancer.) There are many studies looking for subjects and this is a database sponsored by Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation and the Avon Foundation for Women. You will receive emails describing the research. If you qualify, you can sign up. I learned about this from cousin Barbara, and I'm happy to be able to help. Maybe they will find out something useful from me. Many of the members of my father's family died of cancer, but neither he nor I, so far, have had it. I spent most of my life waiting for it to come to me. It was almost a relief when I got my cardio-vascular problems. I know it won't keep me from getting cancer, but it's something else to think about (and, I think, an easier death).

I've been tracking the weather in Japan. Today doesn't look promising; it's colder than Pittsburgh and rainy. I wasn't planning to take a winter jacket–I hope I won't freeze. I had to wait a half hour for the bus today, and it's taken me several hours, a cup of tea, my space heater and turning up the heat in the house, to finally get comfortable. At least the buses run on time in Japan.

Term Paper, again

I finally finished revising the paper, using all those comments from my professor. It's much better than it was, although I don't think it's great. Anyhow, I'm finished. You can find it on my other website here, or download a pdf: Download Term paper 2.

On to better things. I'm still enjoying the music class. A different player from the Pittsburgh Symphony has visited us for each class, and it's been a wonderful experience. Unfortunately, Monday is the last one. I just hope they'll do it again soon.

The groundhog should be ashamed of himself. It snowed earlier this week and again today. I think next year I'll try to go away in February. It's really a bad month for me.

No, the groundhog didn’t go walking with me

They aren't keen on sunshine. Today was supposed to be up in the 50's. Maybe it got there between 1 and 1:15, but it was cold by 3 o'clock. I know spring will come but it won't be soon just because that animal didn't see its shadow.

On another subject entirely, I keep thinking about this poster.

IMG_1685
I saw it in a window in Kentucky when I was down there. It's a simple message: buy your tickets for this special horse show, because you won't have another opportunity next year. Of course, I think of it a little more broadly. I liked it so well I asked Raja to get me a copy, and being a wonderful friend, she did. I know she thought this was just another example of what she sees as my pessimism. We've had a few discussions on the subject. I see myself as a thoughtful realist; she doesn't agree. I guess she thinks I wanted it because I don't think there will be a next year for me. Truth is, it reminds me to do things now, not postpone them. It's a good message.


Groundhog

The groundhog did not see his shadow this year, meaning we would have an early spring. I've never understood what any of this had anything to do with weather, or why having no sunshine on Feb 2 could be a good thing. My friend Ivetta has been taking this seriously and I keep kidding her. If the groundhog sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. If not, there will be a month and a half of winter. So, maybe I'm wrong. The forecast is for 60 degrees by the end of the week. Of course, I don't think much of those long range forecasts, either. But today was a beautiful day; I didn't need my winter jacket, and I went out and took a long walk. Maybe we'll get lucky and I'll be able to keep taking those long walks.