Tuesday, May 30, 2006 at 12:10:21 (EDT)

A salty salute

The aftermath of my weird blackout incident is beginning to rain down upon me: medical bills showing up from pretty much every single person who even glanced at me from the moment my head hit the pavement, insurance claims that get rejected because they don't like the way the hospital itemized things, and, worst of all, trying to explain it to my parents. I really believe that a factor of adulthood is learning to mitigate how much you tell your parents about your life, for their own good. I now kind of regret telling my father about it; it worries him that his boy is dropping like a rock all over town and he thinks St. Vincent's isn't a reputable enough hospital to properly diagnosis me. It seems the only thing that will satisfy him is if I keep seeing more and more expensive doctors until one of them find a golf ball-sized tumor in my brain. Of course he doesn't really think that, but I kind of get the impression he'd really like a clearer explanation of it all. So would I, but I'm also starting to think it was an isolated incident.

I just got copies of my medical records from the hospital, and for the most part it would appear I'm in darned good health. My blood pressure is well within the good range, my pulse could be a little slower but still not bad for a guy who doesn't really exercise. My general chemistry was fine, except apparently I'm a little deficient in sodium, which almost sounds like a good problem to have (that's right, I no longer buy 'low sodium' V8! I rule.) I know a list of my internal stats can't really give a complete picture, but from all the evidence available, there's not really anything wrong with me. Except ...

While the CT scan, MRI, and EKG all came out normal, there was one thing mentioned on the EEG report that concerns me. Under the "Abnormal Activity" section the doc writes I may have a mild degree of "bilateral dysfunction," which seems way too general to explain anything (but spooky enough to send me googling for hours). To attempt to silence my father, I'm seeing a neurologist on Friday to further blow money so some guy can say, "Okay, follow the tip of this pen with your eyes ..." But maybe he'll be some miracle worker who can identify the source of my dysfunction.

We'll see what happens, but I have a new theory surrounding all these events, honed by the curing effects of hindsight:

Henchmen secretly hired by the hospital lurk around 34th Street, looking for prey. They spy a potential in a parka who looks like he's heading for B&H Electronics; they act fast. They approach from behind and touch the back of his shaved head with a small cattle prod. The victim collapses in a heap on the sidewalk, at which time the hired goons flag down a waiting ambulance, claiming the victim suddenly passed out. Paramedics take the victim to the hospital, wherein he is forced to submit to every test they can think of that doesn't get too invasive for the patient to question. That patient is given no conclusive explanation for what has transpired and he is sent home with vague information about seeking follow-up treatment ... outside the hospital. Thus, the hospital is able to send the patient several huge bills, paying off everyone from goon to discharging attendant. Patient becomes indigent after paying said bills, and eventually dies in the gutter, clutching an empty bottle of full-sodium V8.

Posted By Jimmy Legs | Non-PermaLink
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Tuesday, May 23, 2006 at 09:55:33 (EDT)

Other people like us, we gotta work
I'm not sure how much longer I'm gonna be in the downtown office, I keep hearing we're moving uptown in June. But nobody has actually disseminated any actual facts about any of it. I'm still trying to get used to the idea, like I 've been telling myself how nice it will be not to have to walk clear across the length of Ground Zero and the West Side Highway, climbing up and down pedestrian overpasses and dodging slow-moving office drones, as my new office will be scant blocks from the subway. However, of course, my commute time will triple. But this is not the time to think of the many, many downsides to this move. There are distractions galore downtown today.

Despite the fact that it doesn't look like the windows are all put on yet, they're having a dedication ceremony at my old office, 7 World Trade Center. Suzanne Vega and Lou Reed have been thawed to perform, as well as a slew of noncomplementary musical outings including Brazilian Girls. The ceremony is at 11:30, the concert begins at noon. I wish I knew when each band was actually going, I guess I'll venture out at some point. Maybe it's not too late for my office to just move into 7WTC; it's a couple blocks closer to the subway.

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Thursday, May 18, 2006 at 14:01:50 (EDT)

Where you been

Decatur and Mr Bones

Mr Bones pulled a disappearing act this morning, so I couldn't go into the office with a clear conscience until I got him back inside. After a couple of hours, he just sort of showed up; I have no idea where he was hiding. I'm still not going back to the office today. My boss is on vacation, plus it still doesn't really matter if I'm there or not. Computer work in the office is pretty much the same thing as computer work in my bedroom. Except: no pants.

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Monday, May 15, 2006 at 14:39:50 (EDT)

They got grubby little fingers and dirty little minds

Words can't really capture the party thrown by the former Rated Rookie staff (aka "The Moochers"). All you need to know is that they lowered the ceilings in most of the apartment to a scale that would make the smaller guests feel tall, and make the normal/tall people feel like awkward giants.

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Wednesday, May 03, 2006 at 15:16:57 (EDT)

Always something there to remind me

View of the WTC site on my way to work.

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Wednesday, May 03, 2006 at 13:33:05 (EDT)

For the longest time
So after over a month, I finally have my amp back in my possession. The boys down at Main Drag are swamped with fixit jobs, so I knew there would be a bit of delay. Also I didn't know what had caused my amp to smoke like Art Garfunkel on the interstate, or how serious the repair would be. So for a long time I thought they were slaving away on it, so I didn't think to disturb them. Turns out it was just sitting in the back for most of the 4 weeks it was there. The final labor time came out to be 1.75 hours; all that needed to be repaired was a diode and and resistor that had blown in the EQ's power supply. So the amp itself was never in any real danger, and the total cost to fix it was pretty nominal. So I can still heartily recommend Main Drag, but only if you don't need your gear back right away. As for places that could give a quick turnaround time, I still need to seek that out. Are there any places around here that could fix an amp and have it back within, say, a week? I suppose one of the big shops on 48th Street might be able to handle that, but Williamsburg's a little easier to get to than Tin Pan Alley.

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