splitting the adam

Fly me--I'm naked!

Gotta hand it to those wacky Kiwis. Yes, this is a real inflight video, and, yes, they are all naked--with their uniforms painted on...

Is there a handyman in the house?

I'll be the first to confess I'm not exactly Mr Fix-It around here, but I think anything I'd dare to attempt wouldn't be quite as bad as some of the stuff shown at There. I Fixed It. A couple of choice images below; thanks to Gizmodo for the heads-up...

Way up north...

If you're especially observant, you'll notice a new photo album along the right--souvenirs of our recent trip to northern Michigan. The primary purpose was to visit the annual car show in St. Ignace--kind of a northern variant on the Woodward Dream Cruise. Downtown St. Ignace is transformed into one, long, snaking car show--heavy on muscle cars--and we were lucky enough to enjoy pretty decent viewing weather. Other highlights of our four-day getaway included...

• No construction or traffic delays! Woo-hoo! Those of you outside the state may not be familiar with the fact that the Michigan state tree is actually the orange construction cone.
• Rustic evening dining (lots of wood and hunting memorabilia) at the Black Mountain Lodge and Hack-Ma-Tack Inn.
• Quaint lodgings at the bargain price of $50 a night (including free wifi!) at the Monarch Motel.
• Lots of fudge, most purchased on picturesque Mackinac Island.
• Actual live sighting of (depending on how old you are) Dukes of Hazzard and Smallville star John Schneider. No, we did not get an autograph. Yes, we stalked him from afar with our zoom lenses.

Special mention has to go to Mulligan's in downtown Cheboygan, whose menu and website boast Good Food, Bad Shots. How bad? Well, you'll need to know that these shots are intended to "recreate the bad taste left in your mouth after a nasty triple bogey". Still not convinced? Here are a few samples...

• Mulligan: Gin, cream and a pickled jalapeño. 
• Duck Hook: Jaegermeister & warm olive juice
• The Shank: Beer, wine and milk
• Stinger: Rumplemintz and clam juice
• The 18th Hole: Hot Sauce & Galliano

"A migraine of conservatives"

I've always been fascinated with language; when I was a kid, I used to read William Safire's On Language column in the New York Times magazine. Recently, Salon asked readers to submit their ideas for modern collective nouns; in addition to the one cited in the headline here, a few others caught my eye (the full list is here)...

• a smug of Priuses
• a brace of orthondontists
• a coil of electricians
• a fuss of toddlers
• a giggle of tweens
• a knot of sailors

"All right. You're ugly, too."

So, after learning about my recent heart problems, it was suggested that I get a second opinion. I spoke with my 'regular' doctor, who agreed with me that getting opinion made a lot of sense, and he gave me the name of a second cardiologist. It was a useful discussion, and, while the overall plan didn't change--come back in six months and keep an eye out for unusual symptoms in the meantime--I did get some additional clarification...

• There are folks out there with worse conditions than mine who have gone for decades without surgery.The important thing is to keep monitoring my condition.
• The big reason to postpone the surgery is a quality of life issue. After doing a bit of reading on the subject (4-8 weeks recovery, no driving during that time, taking coumadin--a blood thinner--for the rest of my life), it definitely sounds like things post-surgery would be quite different. This site has quite a bit of useful info; I was delighted to discover that, after two months, I'd be able to drive a tractor and go fishing...

So, let's wait and see what happens, shall we?

I'll take myxomatous valve degeneration for $500...

Well, I can spell it, but I can't pronounce it--and the short answer (SPOILER ALERT!) is that I'm not going under the knife anytime soon. However, it--like the rest of life--is complicated.

The TEE (transesophageal echocardiogram), by the way, didn't quite go quite as promised. Here's what was supposed to happen: numb throat, insert drugs, nod off, and wake up with lovely images of my heart, courtesy of a miracle device snaked down my throat. As it turns out, the 'numb throat' part involved the doctors squirting lidocaine gel down my throat and asking me to gargle with it (!)--and the numbing, alas, did not last the duration of the procedure. "Ah," you think, "but you were unconscious!" Well, not so much. Whatever morphine mixture they were pumping into me might have relaxed me, but I was quite awake the whole time. The good news? Nice clear images, apparently.

According to my cardiologist (Hey! I have a cardiologist! Imagine that!) basically said that my valves, as we expected, are not working properly, for reasons vaguely and graphically explained here. On a scale of one to four, my mitral valve is leaking at level two, which is not inconsistent with MVD (which, by the way, is a bit unusual for someone my age). However, my aortic valve--normally unaffected by MVD--is leaking at level three. And there appear to be some issues with my tricuspid valve.

What happens next? Assuming I don't suffer from shortness of breath, swollen ankles, or heart palpitations in the near future, I go back for a checkup in six months. Long-term, it sounds as though surgery is inevitable, but, for the moment, everything appears to be functioning normally.

A typical weekend morning...

Well, all right,  it's not exactly like this, but it's close...

"Ugly bags of water" (or, "Do I need a valve job?")

Trekkers and other scifi aficionados may recognize the above phrase from the otherwise middling episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, "Home Soil". The phrase is used by a crystal-like life form that develops a sort of collective 'hive mind', and it illustrates how they view humans. And, considering we are, by and large, bags of mostly water, it's not too far off the truth. The phrase popped into my head last week after a discussion with a cardiologist and the generally fragile nature of the human body.

I've known I have a heart murmur for probably about ten years; it initially surfaced when I was having some tests done to determine the cause of a chronic cough. Three years ago, my doctor mentioned it during my physical. Last month (and, yes, I know three years is probably a bit too long to wait between physicals) I had another exam--except this time, the murmur was 'louder'.

Cue the echogram, which involved pasting electrodes to my chest and taking a good look at things. At the time, the nurse said I had a 'mitral valve prolapse'; two days later, I got calls from both my doctor and the nurse where the test was taken, indicating they learned a bit more and would like me to meet with a cardiologist.

So, here's what I know. My mitral valve appears somewhat defective, with what they call 'moderate' leakage. However, it appears my aortic valve isn't working quite right, either, with 'moderate to severe' leakage. Next step? A transesophageal electrocardiogram, wherein a tiny camera is inserted down my throat to get a better look at my heart.

This could turn out to be as simple as 'let's check it every six months', or there could be drugs involved, or--a small chance--surgery to correct the problems. I do know the fatigue I've been feeling for the past six months or so could be related to this, so we'll see what happens. The test is on Monday, and I'll be back...

Mass transit, NYC-style...

Despite having used the subways or metros in a number of major cities, I've always been a bit intimidated by the NYC subway. Not from a crime standpoint, though--more from a logistics standpoint. Perhaps it's the sheer number of lines, or the apparently semi-random way that some trains switch lines--as we learned on our recent trip to NYC, where the A wasn't quite on the A route. In any event, we wound up taking the subway a couple of times to and from Brooklyn (where we were staying with a friend), and I'm think I'm almost comfortable enough to use it on my own. Unless, of course, things get as bad as this notice (via JoeMyGod) suggests...

Wrapped and marinated...

The one thing I didn't mention in my recent cruise post was the one item that I felt deserved its own entry--my first seaweed wrap and massage. What happened is that they announced they were giving away various services at the onboard spa, so I figured, "What the hell" and headed up to Deck 11. Much to my surprise, they pulled my name.

So, what exactly is a seaweed wrap and massage? Here's what happens:

1. Wearing the conveniently provided disposable underwear, the technician (or whatever she's called) smeared my arms, legs, and back with a sage-green paste which I assume was created from seaweed. The intent was to have the alkalines from the seaweed absorbed into my bloodstream to offset the acids generated by stress.
2. Thus smeared, I lay down on top of what I thought was a sheet of tin foil. A towel was placed on my chest, and the tin foil was folded over, wrapping me up like a hot dog. 
3. It turns out the sheet of tin foil was actually a bag. The technician flipped a switch, and the bag filled with warm water, completely cocooning me. I baked like that for about thirty minutes.  
4. I showered off just about all of the now clay-like substance--not an easy job. 
5. I finished up with a fairly relaxing massage (although I can't figure out why my right calf muscle is so much stiffer than my left calf). 

So, will I do it again? It was kinda interesting, but let's just say that free is much better than the $199 they normally charged...