kathryn’s Neighborhood

If you create an "Internet Radio" service, I fully expect Elvis Costello's "Radio Radio" to be available.

If you create an "Internet Music Video" service, I fully expect The Buggles' "Video Killed The Radio Star" to be available.

Watching the demo for Google Goggles reminds me of my EZ Identification post.

"In the future, it will help you do more cool things - like suggesting a move in a chess game or taking a picture of a leaf to identify the plant."

I continue to liken it to the Pokedex device from Pokemon. By pointing the camera at a Pokemon, it would bring up the appropriate encyclopedia result.

Others appear to liken it to the Tricorder device from Star Trek. But waving a sensor over something to get a complex analysis disrupts the analogy.

So I got the scan results as promised. As of 17 November 2009, the tumor in my neck was exactly the same size and no other lymph nodes showed any signs of invasion. There are some micronodules in my lungs, but a real experienced retired cancer nurse told me that, in 90% of cases, the second round of radioactive iodine does those in. Here's hoping!

My boss agreed to let me borrow the work laptop to telecommute on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I am really hoping that this will help my body rest a bit so that the nasty effects of the hormone treatment will be less of an issue. I'm really glad that this overdose of hormones has kept the cancer from metastasizing because being forced into hyperthyroidism has been absolute shit.

When Dollhouse began, I quickly caught the NATO Phonetic Alphabet naming convention for Actives (Alpha, Echo, November, Sierra, Victor).

This latest episode revealed a second Dollhouse that has adopted a Greek God naming convention (Hades and Aphrodite). As an extension of this allusion, Summer Glau's character, Bennett Halverson, seems to be a representation of Hephaestus.

I am perhaps too easily amused by the simple suggestion of false temporal manipulation in lifestreaming events.

Step one: Create a post declaring your success for unraveling time. Step two: Create another post with a later timestamp declaring your intentions to unravel time by hopping into your Delorean / Tardis / Tear In The Space-Time Continuum.

My nuclear doctor called me back today to say that I could not see the surgeon before 5 Jan 2010. Actually, what she said was that the delay was perfectly normal for a surgery after meeting with him in late November. I explained that I did not meet with him in late November. She was surprised, she did not realise that the 5 January mtg was not my surgery but, in fact, the appointment to set the date. There is obviously some great communication going on between the members of my cancer team. This lack of organisation is beginning to worry me and make me lose faith in their competence. I demanded that I receive the results from my scan performed in mid-November. She said that she'd send them right to me, but insisted that I need not be worried about the delay.

If this metastasizes between now and then, they'll wish they'd been more careful. Because I will sue them, the secretary and the hospital to within an inch of their miserable little lives. Doctors like this should not be allowed to practice. They are a menace to every patient, not just to me.

I had to wait until 30 November to hear from my endocrinologist that my thyroglobulin antibody count (taken 15 October) had fallen from 69 (July) to 25 (October). Great news, right? I am happy because it should mean that my thyroid cancer is being contained. Why did I have to wait for good news that would have helped me stay positive about beating my cancer? What about all the sharp pains in my breasts and arm pits that none of my doctors want to hear about?  Why do I have to fight tooth and nail to have results from my scan that would SHOW ME whether this has metastasized into my breasts, bones or lungs? I am obviously not a priority for this group of doctors. And I am afraid that none of their patients are important to them. It's a wonder anyone in France ever survives cancer.

So here's the recap:

No meeting with surgeon until 5 January 2009. Should be getting results of scan from hospital soon, which I will be forced to interpret myself because I cannot get in to see a doctor at the hospital. I still say thank goodness for national health because, if I were in America, I would be bankrupt and probably dead by now. With a pre-existing cancer, I would not have been eligible for insurance in the first place. That said, I pay out the ass in taxes for national health. As a cancer-afflicted tax payer, I deserve better. Every tax payer in France deserves better medical treatment than what is currently 'available'.

 

Many early modernist homes strongly emphasized the horizontal, like the the broad eaves of the Prairie Style in the Midwest, Mies' Farnsworth House, and the California houses of Richard Neutra. However, this luxury was unavailable to architects building in New York City. Unsurprisingly, their homes were much more vertical. Three striking examples were designed by William Lescaze (1896–1969), better known for the PSFS Building in Philadelphia.

• William Lescaze House, 211 East 48th Street (1933-34). The home he built for himself was the first International Style house in New York City. In April 2001, its owners put it up for rent at the bargain price of $20,000 per month. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1980 and designated as a New York City Landmark (PDF) in 1976.
  

• R.C. Kramer House, 32 East 74th Street (1935)
  

• Edward A. Norman House, 124 East 70th Street (1940-41)

In 1934-35, designer and architect Morris B. Sanders built a similar house at 219 East 49th Street. The Morris B. Sanders Studio & Apartment was designated as a New York City Landmark (PDF) in 2008. All four of the buildings remain standing.

Yup, I'm saying goodbye to Vox and moving to a brand new blog:

Sad news.

We had to give Perla back to the adoption people because she was literally tearing herself apart when we weren't with her. She manifested almost every sign of canine stress imaginable all the time except when sleeping. When she saw the foster home lady, she ran to the lady's car and didn't look back. At least, she'll be happier and safer there. We tried our best to let her know that she was safe and loved with us, but it didn't work.

We've decided that the next dog will be a Corgi puppy. Not sure when. I know and love the breed and their temperament suits ours perfectly. Besides that, I no longer trust rescue groups in France. After having been warned about them, I gave one the benefit of the doubt. They said that they had a feeling that it wouldn't work out after allowing us to adopt her! What a horrible thing to put a dog through! They have no business running a dog adoption association.

My next news is not so much sad as enraging. My surgeon had a death in his family so we received a last minute call to cancel my meeting with him tomorrow. Ok. I am sorry for his loss, etc. The secretary then forced us to take a date in January 2010 and said that my cancer wasn't serious. Isn't all cancer a little serious? I do plan to call back and ask if there is no way to be seen earlier and to ask for my results. I do have the right to see my results at least and talk them over with one of my doctors. Don't I? Just another example of my fuckwit cancer team. I understand that this is a hard time for the surgeon, but his staff need to get training on their people skills. There is no psychological help in France for people who have cancer from what I can tell. I have asked about it at the hospital -- nothing! So not only do they deprive you of the psychological help you need, but they also belittle your cancer and send the message that they don't care if they cure you or not. Every chemo session my father had, he had to fill out a questionnaire about how he was feeling emotionally as well as physically. Questions included, 'How often do you contemplate suicide?' It was all taken very seriously. Not in France, though. You're just another burden on the national health so they string you along. I almost have the feeling that they want it to metastasize further or are hoping that I'll off myself so that they make a dent in their case load. There are other surgeons who could see me at the hospital to at least give me my results. That would be the professional thing to do. But when one is in this situation and one has the sense that none of the doctors care about one's case? Guess what that does for a cancer patient's morale, fucktards? One day, you will also have cancer. I guarantee it with the poor management of nuclear waste in France. Then you'll get to feel this pain and this fear and this rage. I'll probably be dead so I won't even get the chance to gloat.