October 20, 2006

Friday Random iPod Bad Workout Ten

Several blogmates are fond of the weekly ritual of posting songs from their iPods-on-shuffle-mode, to give a little insight into their tastes and personalities. In that spirit, I present 10 very bad workout songs from my iPod.*

-Silent All These Years, Tori Amos
-Superstar, Bette Midler
-Love Has No Pride, Bonnie Raitt
-Goodbye to Love, the Carpenters
-That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be, Carly Simon
-The Fiddle and the Drum, Joni Mitchell
-Angel, Sarah McLachlan
-That I Would Be Good, Alanis Morissette

...wait a minute, why are these all by women!?
-41 Shots, Bruce Springsteen
-Simple Twist of Fate, Bob Dylan

I think I just fell asleep on the elliptical.

*For the record, I am ashamed to admit that I don't own a sleek, cool, attractive iPod; I own a Creative Zen something-or-other. It's not as pretty, but it holds about a billion songs.

June 11, 2006

The Lunch Truck - Only the Strong Survive

In an effort to strengthen my stomach before the family grand tour of China and Cambodia in July, I have been availing myself of the culinary delights offered by two lunch trucks near my office. They always have long lines (well at least one of them does), so I thought I should try it. They're convenient, they're cheap... why, they're ptoumaine-y good!

On day one, I purchased a fairly innocuous steamed chicken, noodle and broccoli dish, which was nice and simple. The second day, I decided to try something else. I can't for the life of me remember what it was, but I remember feeling only mildly queasy for the seven hours following lunch. On Wednesday, I decided to forsake my new favorite lunch truck and try the lunch truck next door. Both trucks serve Asian food, and both display health certificates, so I thought, "What could go wrong? I'm two-for-two!"

I chose a chicken-garlic-scallion combination. With the lunch truck, every day is like my birthday, as I bring the styrofoam container back to my office and have no idea what's in store when I open the lid. It's magical!

I opened the lid on this day and laid my eyes on the most horrific-looking pile of "chicken" I have ever seen. Said "chicken" was actually knobs of gristle and fat with minuscule amounts of dark meat. I moved the pile to the side so that I could enjoy the rice and the one piece of broccoli underneath. I considered eating the styrofoam container. After lunch, I had a rather uneasy feeling; what I imagine one might feel after accidentally eating a human foot.

Finally, on Friday it was back to the old, reliable lunch truck. I decided to order tofu with peanut sauce. After all, how can you screw up tofu?

I learned that you can screw up tofu... you can make it really mushy and wet, and then you can pour a gallon of peanut sauce that's the consistency of slightly warmed-up Skippy on it. Once again, I picked at the rice and ate the one piece of broccoli.

I think I am done with the lunch truck, as I believe my stomach can now survive anything. I now know that I can eat freely on our trip without worry, and will enjoy everything from street vendor meat-on-a-stick to live chickens.

May 25, 2006

Medical Vortex of Insanity

Lately, my brain has had some space to remember to do many forgotten things. Like get a mammogram, which I was supposed to do in October. My doctor’s office had told me I could simply call the radiology provider and make an appointment. I called the radiology office in April and they said, “We’re booking for August.” Since I had recently found a lump, and also had a change in my family history, I wanted an appointment sooner. I told them this. However, the lump is not a big concern, as I’ve had these before and they’re usually nothing. They said, “You need to call your doctor and get a prescription.”

I called my doctor and explained the situation. “Yes, we’ll fax them something,” they said.

I called the radiology office back later. “We don’t have anything from your doctor…” I was getting increasingly frustrated and decided to try the “remain silent” tactic. I said nothing.

“Oh wait; there’s something coming through the fax now.” She put me on hold, and came back 14 hours later. “Yes, we have the prescription. We can give you an appointment in August.”

“Wait,” I said. “I was told that before, and thought I could get something sooner if I got a prescription.”

“No, we’re booking for August.”

“So why did I have to call my doctor?”

“We’re booking for August.”

"What's your favorite color?"

"We're booking for August."

I explained that I had been getting regular mammograms for years, that I had found a lump and had had a change in family history.

“Did you tell your doctor you have a lump? It doesn’t say that on the prescription. Your doctor will want you to come in so she can see you first.”

It must have slipped my mind to mention the lump to the doctor’s office, as I was so caught up in detailing my frustrations. I called the doctor’s office back and provided scintillating details about the lump. They asked me to come in that day.

My doctor saw me, and wrote a new prescription for a mammogram and ultrasound. I went downstairs to the radiology office. The woman behind the counter looked at the prescription and said, “We’re booking for August.”

What?

I said, “I came in to see my doctor so I could get something sooner! Why did I come in for this?” Suddenly, fourteen employees and technicians converged upon the front desk, as if they knew I was coming, remembering the raving madwoman who had called that morning. “No, no…” they all chanted. “August, August…we’re booking for August.” I had just wasted three hours of my and my doctor’s time. Why hadn’t they just told me: “No matter what you do, you will not get an appointment before August. Do not bother getting a prescription. Do not bother coming in. We’re booking for August…”

I was almost in tears. One woman said, “Let me see if we can get you in sooner…my schedule is in the back.” I followed her and we looked at a different, more special schedule. She said, “I can see you June 1st.” Unfortunately, I’m starting a new job that week and cannot be taking off for doctor’s appointments. I started to feel like I was being difficult, and resigned myself to an August appointment. I explained the about the new job and said, “I’ll just come in August,” and she said, “But we wouldn’t want you to wait that long.” I left.

You wouldn’t want me to wait. You sure have a funny way of showing it. Early detection and regular self-exams are critical. Know your body. But don’t try to get an appointment for a mammogram within the next four months. You’re shit out of luck.