August 11, 2005

Oh, it's been a long time this time. I have thought of writing many times, but the first entry back after a long hiatus is even more difficult to write than a normal one. I have almost two months' worth of material to cover! But I think I'm just going to talk about the present and the very recent past for now.

The last few weeks have been really weird. On the plus side, things are coming together at work and there is a light at the end of the grad school tunnel. Have I said that before? I feel like I've been telling people that I'm almost done for years now, but this time, I mean it. Really. This also means that I am starting to think about what I want to do when I actually finish school. Thus far, the thoughts are completely inconclusive, but I do want to stay in San Francisco, if possible.

On the negative side, Mo is moving to Wisconsin. I know this is a great opportunity and stuff for her, and it might be temporary and she'll come back and visit and most of my interaction with her takes place online anyway now, but it's sad to lose a member of the gang. There'll be one fewer chair at the next Mas, which has never happened before.

And then the really heavy thing is that last weekend, a friend of Iggy's and mine had a stroke. We are all still waiting to see what happens, which is not something I am very good at. We've tried to remain optimistic...Sara had a stroke and then eventually she was fine. It happens. But it's tough when even the good news feels like bad news. It's hard to be happy to hear that he is breathing on his own when prior to last week he breathed on his own continuously for some forty-odd years with no significant difficulty. I read something yesterday in my googling attempts to understand the medical side of things that said that only 10% of stroke victims completely recover function. I don't know if that's accurate or current, and I know that lots of people who have strokes are old and sick to start with, which my friend is not, but I still wished I hadn't read it and I'm not going to tell Iggy or any of his other friends (you, dear reader, are not so lucky, apparently). But really, I don't know if I'm supposed to be grieving or sighing with relief that he made it.

It's also just scary. One day you can be fine, and the next surgeons are drilling open your skull to see what they can salvage. I've told a few people what happened, and the first question most of them asked was "why?" It's a perfectly reasonable question: in this case, he has a family history of stroke, he smokes cigarettes. Does that explain it, though? Sometimes these things just happen. ran a story yesterday about Christopher Reeve's widow's being diagnosed with lung cancer. The headline was "Nonsmokers can be cancer victims, too." Well, duh! But I understand that these things seem a lot less scary if we think we understand why they happen.

Anyway, for now, the only thing to do is wait and see and be patient and go on with life. And right now, that should really mean going to bed, because I have to be at work at 6 a.m. tomorrow for this stupid experiment.

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