Another one bites the dust: New Year's Hi-Resolution

Today, we put in some Saturday office hours - the end-of-the-year catching up and regrouping. Now that we're finished brainstorming the "from now ons" and "no more of [x]s", it's time to come back to our serene little corner of the world and do what everyone does (or should do) on New Year's Eve: reflect.

I know you thought I was going to say "drink". Ha.

Let's take a moment to look back on the YouTube video that was 2011.

1. Last year around this time (and up until 6 weeks ago), we were living in a stuffy, crappy, cramped low-income roach-infested apartment, resenting every bit of the boom-boom car stereos, late-night drug deals, and illegal immigrants with tejano music coming up through the floor, cell phones permanently stuck to their ears, and litters of dumpy kids. Don't forget the dryer lint simply tossed out onto the hedges instead of thrown into a proper trash can like we tend to do in developed countries. Yeesh.

This year, we've moved up in the world. We gave up our AT&T Uverse package and a blissfully carefree commute for a much cleaner and more spacious apartment with large windows, more plentiful parking, a serene courtyard, and an ambient view. Bonus: no roaches! Although we're no longer within easy reach of interesting neighborhoods or public transportation (damn), we're also a good comfortable distance away from Honda-driving cholos who race down the wrong side of the road and blow through the stop signs.

2. My health continues to...well, demystify itself, at least. This year brought many more answers than questions, for once - although few solutions just yet. I'm still sporting my baby bump with no fucking baby (don't get me wrong - I don't mind not having the baby on the way. But I don't want the bump, either). I hold steady at 5-6 lbs under the max weight I'd clocked in a year ago. Knowing it's not an adrenal or primary thyroid problem is somewhat comforting, because it would've been frustrating to attempt those protocols without any results. That might've shaken my foundation of faith in what I do and sent me into a tailspin. At least now I know it's not my fault, nothing I can do anything about without probably climbing underneath a scalpel.

3. The practice continues to grow. I got published twice in Natural Awakenings and Jay and I have both made guest appearances on an increasingly-highly-rated health and wellness show on a major AM radio station in our area. I've been on that show twice now. And I also dominate the first page of Google when searching for my type of care in our area. Although it has its ups and downs, fruitful and dry spells, I think it's on the steady (even if gradual) increase overall. Which leads me to...

4. The Headspace - ahh yes, the headspace. I'm still under this crazy impression that I should get paid for what it is I do. I'm also suffering from the delusion that patients will actually appreciate the fact that I do more for them than anyone else, take more time with them than anyone else, include more perks and extras than they've ever seen, respect them more, answer their questions more thoroughly and ALL for a lower cost than they've ever paid. I thought they might show some gratitude. I was wrong, at least for the most part. I could do all that, and it's never enough. They bitched, moaned, whined, protested, and shat all over me. It's not covered by insurance. That testing is too expensive. I can't afford regular visits. I cheated on my diet. It's too many supplements. I don't know what to do on the diet. I want to know what else I can eat, even though you've spelled it out simply and straightforward, in plain language in a well-thought-out, well-written, comprehensive informational handout. I knew I had all week to call you and set an appointment for your undivided attention but I'm going to wait till Friday afternoon and send you cyberdiarrhea about how I have all these "concerns" piled up that I've never mentioned to you, so that I feel better, and who gives a shit if you have a crappy weekend worrying because of it...and I'm going to do that every weekend like clockwork, because it makes ME feel better.

So now, I have taken my life back. Not only am I not available 24/7, and not only am I not working overtime after hours for free anymore, but I've also taken several additional steps to reclaiming my sleep, sanity, and soul.
A) Hobbies - getting back onto my P2P music downloading program. This way, I can enjoy life again.
B) Me Time - this is slightly different than hobbies. This involves watching trash TV like Cops and America's Most Wanted, along with other TV like Family Guy and Flying Wild Alaska. I also read peoples' personal blogs or business blogs (not related to my work) or research non-work-related subjects just for fun.
C) Turn off, tune in, drop out (or something) - I've set gradually firmer boundaries throughout the year. First it was a refusal to check email after I left work. Then I wouldn't check it after a certain time in the afternoon. Then it was setting the vacation autoresponder. Then it was the patient handouts: the first was a pre-emptive "you'll feel worse before you feel better" and the second was a "When To Call Me..." checklist. Then we hired our Office Manager and front desk CA, which was a ray of light from heaven. And now I'm to the point where I don't do ANYTHING work-related when I get home.

And you know what? I'm not fucking sorry. I even stopped apologizing.

This year, we're staring down the barrel of a new office, twice as big as our current one. Are we ready? I think we're as ready as we'll ever be. Every time I think we might not be able to afford it, I'm reminded that we can't afford NOT to. So we're about to embark on yet another journey into the unknown, mapping new territory as we go.

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So yes, life has become both more challenging and more fun. It's finally worth living again; I still feel I'm spinning my wheels a little, but I also see that there's a break in the clouds, a light on the horizon. This hardship stuff won't last forever. Truthfully, it has already started to let up a little. Finally I have some balls, even though it's not much. I'm a bit more comfortable in my own skin, and I'm adjusting to the idea of telling it like it is. I'm a bit more seasoned and less naively optimistic at this point, but that's because I've been through a few skirmishes and earned a few scratches. And I know that's not over yet.

Next year I have a lot to look forward to...let's see how many of these I can accomplish:
--To grow even bigger balls so that I can not be afraid put my foot down, speak up, and say what needs to be said.
--To finish my CCN education, read the books, take the test, and earn the title.
--To keep a clean house that I enjoy coming home to every night like we do now.
--To explore my uterine options, make a decision, and solve that problem.
--To strike a fair balance between fair compensation and excess expense/nickel-dime/etc.
--To build full-spectrum practice in a nice large office, and expand our advertising/marketing efforts including blogs, etc.
--To rehabilitate my body, including my cerebellum and blood sugar management, adrenals, hormone balance, liver function, and everything else.

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Bonus: 2011 "Soundtrack", if you will (probably not complete):

"Not a Crime" - Gogol Bordello
"Matchstick Murder" - Tristen
"Tiki Tiki Kardi" - Arash
"Pumped Up Kicks" - Foster the People
"Distant Lights" - Ivy
"Used To Be" - Beach House

...yeah, definitely not complete yet.

Oh well, 2011's in the books. In light of the apocalyptic predictions surrounding the Mayan calendar, I wonder what 2012's version of this post will look like?

Movies that shaped me

We're a complex web of our experiences. These experiences have some influence on what we become, shaping (in part) who we are. We experience the world through our senses. Our senses detect stimuli. And that stimuli can take on a number of forms - sight, smell, sound, etc. The media (TV, radio, press/publishing, internet) use multiple channels (shows/movies, music, books, websites) to reach us. I've devoted a lot of time to music ("25 CDs" and "Playlist" post series) and websites ("Websites That Rule" post series), and now movies will have their time to shine.

No particular order.

"The Matrix" - taught me that the world isn't what it seems and often, rules that seemed like hard-and-fast givens might be bent, or even broken, or at least manipulated, if you only look at the situation from the right angle and realize that you just might have more power than you thought. (Also taught me that there are some sinister forces controlling everything we do and that we are stuck in an illusion, during which we are being farmed for our resources to feed an ever-growing malicious giant.)

"Anne of Green Gables" - taught me that red-headed outcasts who are dreamy, creative, hot-tempered, talkative, and gullible do have a precious place in the world. Finally, I found solace - someone who reads, talks, and imagines vast, rich fantasy worlds, complete with being particular about her name - both the spelling of her real name, and the various names she wishes she had.

"Other Peoples' Money" - taught me that a do-nothing, make-nothing, serve-no one capitalist can actually be correct and make sense - even when he's in the process of killing off a company during a hostile takeover.

"Terminator 2" - taught me that women can have muscles as big as guys' muscles (if we work out hard enough). Women can be respectably bad-ass.

"Enemy of the State" - taught me that the government really can see what you're doing and that you can be targeted and tracked for something that is no fault of your own.

"Alien" - gave my overactive, fearful, fight-or-flight mind something through which to channel all of that said fear and stress.

"Lolita" - showed me how a dirty taboo subject can be HOT, despite our best efforts to say, "that's just wrong".

"Silence of the Lambs" - made me want to be an FBI behavioral scientist and taught me to think and absorb information in a completely different way. Also discovered some very kick-ass music through that movie.

"Karate Kid" - always makes me want to stretch the major muscle groups of the entire lower half of the body and do some serious roundhouse kicks. Also makes me feel very surreal and meditative. And then I want to move to Japan. Taught me that no matter how bad you get your ass kicked, you CAN have the last laugh.

"Star Wars" - taught me that there is indeed a force that surrounds and permeates everything and that it can be used for good or bad. The bad side is tempting and attractive, but the good side is worth the patience it requires and the softer tread on the world.

"Dazed and Confused" - taught me what life was like in high school in the '70s in East Texas and it makes me want to go back to that simpler time.

"Pump Up the Volume" - made me want to own a radio station - but more for the music than the talk - although the talk was pretty damn funny and/or thought-provoking.

"Office Space" - taught me I'm not alone in despising the corporate world. Reinforces my glee and pride to have not made a resume. Yay!

"Working Girl" - showed me how far we've come just since the '80s (hopefully) and that sometimes you have to lie, pretend, and impersonate just to get to the top - but that it was all worth it and sometimes, you don't even get into trouble for having been dishonest.

"Parenthood" - taught me a really useful diarrhea song that I gleefully sang in impeccably-timed situations. Reinforced my decision to never have kids.

"Fried Green Tomatoes" - taught me about traditional (yet strong) southern women and how to be the tomboy maverick among them well into adulthood. Also taught me the concept of Towanda and that I don't have to sit back and let my gender and the passage of time happen to me. Hint: you don't always have to be a southern belle.

"Volcano" - taught me that there's no history of anything till it happens.

"Angus" - taught me that you can either conform or self-combust...OR you can refuse to do either and stubbornly exert your influence on the rest of your surroundings.

"Green Mile" - taught me that not everyone on death row is guilty.

"The Wall" (Pink Floyd) - illustrated the depths of the human imagination.

"A League of Their Own" - taught me exactly what women had to put up with just because their plumbing is inside the body.

"Ferris Bueller's Day Off" - taught our generation just how to make the very most of a day of hookie. Also found some kickass music in that movie, too.

"JFK" - taught me that there was an entire underbelly of his assassination that will go with some people to the grave. It really does look like it was an inside job. And they hate Oliver Stone for it, too. Because he's more than likely right.

"Terms of Endearment" - taught me not to live in a dysfunctional relationship. It will eat you alive (literally).

"Clan of the Cave Bear" - taught me that a woman (and one who looks much different, at that) can be different and strong and revered.

"Less Than Zero" - taught me just how badly drugs can fuck up your life. Unbelievably frightening.

"Hackers" - provided the motivation to get into computers. And electronic music. And to never sleep.

"The Net" - showed me just how easily someone can easily overthrow and scramble your life. With the click of a mouse, to change some 1's and 0's. Boom, just like that.

"Neverending Story" - taught me that it's perfectly OK to dream and fantasize. Sticking your head in the clouds just might keep some rock-biter alive somewhere. Made me wonder which books weren't "safe", though!

"Seventh Sign" - implanted a fascination deep inside me of Israel and the whole Biblical Kingdom area. Very deep and visceral, too.

"The Craft" - made me want to summon the 4 Corners. Until halfway through. I'm still Wiccan-to-be, though. (Hint: the movie has hardly anything to do with the religion.)

"X-Files" - made me wonder exactly what *else* the Powers That Be are hiding/covering up.

There are probably more. But dinner's ready.

21 Reasons I'm happy to be child-free

I don't hate kids. In fact, I like other peoples' (well-kept, well-behaved) kids. We just don't want any of our own. Unlike other couples who choose to remain child-free, we haven't (yet) encountered any nosy, borderline-judgmental questions or attempts to convert us to the World of Parenting. I figure as an extra preventive measure, I'll make my list of reasons here and should we encounter any of those shining examples of humanity, we'll simply point them to this blog.

Listed in no particular order:

1. It's a full time job and then some. I already have one of those and since I'm just one person (and not two), I don't need another. Without kids, I don't have to pick between a kid and a career. And make no mistake - you can't have it all. Sorry. You're one person, not two. If you think you can do both, then you're probably not doing either very well.

2. My other half and I have a few major genetic issues that we would prefer not to knowingly pass on.

3. Kids are a major investment. We have plenty of other entities vying for our money (our office, our apartments--two right now, Christmas, Whole Foods, Apple, etc). To meet the expenses that kids create, we'd have to grow money on trees or start drug dealing or something. I like having disposable income to go bowling, upgrade to a nice cable/broadband TV/internet package, get my clothes at Dillard's, or get a spanking new iMac. Daycare, baby food, diapers, clothes, and future college tuition just don't seem nearly as attractive.

4. Kids cost money - Part 2. They only cost MORE money as they get older. You thought daycare, diapers, and baby formula were expensive? Ha! Wait till they want designer clothes, starter makeup, video games, and a smartphone. Wait till they toilet-paper the neighborhood and those homeowners find out it's your kid and want restitution. Wait till they want a CAR. We got lucky - my parents paid for anything we were seriously interested in and wanted to pursue. We got music instrument lessons, ice skating lessons, karate classes, and more. Bless my parents. They wanted everything for us - but we were not spoiled. We worked during the summer and understood exactly what it took to obtain the funding for these activities.

5. Kids take space. We tend to need the 2nd bedroom for a home office for our hobbies. A 3-bedroom is out of the question financially.

6. I strongly dislike snot, puke, and poo. I don't care so much about blood and pee, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Without kids, I won't get puked on, nor will I have to wipe a nose or change a diaper.

7. Kids make noise. I'm overstimulated as it is. Occasional neighbor noise aside, I like to have my peace and quiet when I want it.

8. Kids make messes. I'd rather not HAVE to clean more than once a week. Laundry, dusting, catbox, vacuuming, dishes, and general tidying up already take some time each day/week. Our truck is a mess but it doesn't smell bad - without kids I don't have to worry about milk getting spilled and then smelling really...."nice" a week later on a South Texas July afternoon (true story - ask Mom).

9. Kids get into things. Ugh, I went through this with my kid sister - coming home from school and finding my Lego cities in shambles, my books piled on the floor instead of in the bookshelf, markers and paints all over, stickers peeled off and stuck elsewhere, Barbie dolls undressed and re-dressed horribly, pieces of everything everywhere. I hated going to school knowing she was getting into everything all day and I couldn't do anything about it. It didn't stop with the toddler years, either - we continued into our pre-teens and teens stealing my makeup and clothes. Again, ugh. Why would I want to do that to myself all over again?

10. Kids get into things Part 2 - I remember Mom having to put latches on the cupboards and doors, store guns in locked cabinets, store books/knives/china dishes/etc high up, put away sticky candy, worry about where detergents and cleaners were stored (in the Monsanto-dominates, pre-eco-friendly days), etc etc. Why would I want to relive Mom's experience?

11. Kids break things. Candles, light bulbs, electronics (yes, let's confuse a peanut butter sandwich with a VCR tape. Let's pour apple juice into said VCR, too), you name it. Besides the cats, staying child-free means we get to enjoy the full life of our things without having to replace them prematurely.

12. Kids do kid stuff, I do adult stuff. OK, I'll admit I LOVE playing outside - catch, hide-and-seek, capture the flag, tag, you name it. I also love Nintendo/video games. But I don't do kid-style birthday parties or coloring books or other little games that smaller kids play. I like to go people-watch and the mall or play cards. I like to exercise - walking, biking, working out, martial arts. I like to paint, with very permanent paints. I like to get my hair done. I also refuse to bore a little kid by dragging him/her all over the place to do the adult things I'd rather do instead of parenting. So I don't have kids.

13. I can go on vacation or away on an impromptu overnight without having to worry about A) someone watching the kids or B) having to take the kids with us.

14. We can go out to eat or to a movie (or anywhere!) without having to worry about A) getting (and paying increasingly more for) a babysitter, or B) having to take the kids with us.

15. We don't get any dirty looks or stares or (justifiably) rude comments because our kids are acting up or causing a scene. We don't risk having to leave a restaurant in the middle of a meal or a movie just when it's getting good.

16. Kids are heavy. So is their stuff. The kids themselves need to be carried everywhere - but so does their diaper bag. So does their formula. Their toys. Their stroller, should the place not be conducive to strollers. When they act up, or get tired, irritable, and difficult, they become twice as heavy - dead weight, and they're not moving anywhere if they can help it.

17. Kids get cranky. See above - tired, irritable, and difficult. They do this when they're tired. Hungry. Bored. Hot. Anytime they're not happy, which seems often.

18. Kids stink - puke, poo, pee, etc. They smell up the place, causing embarrassment (and if you're NOT embarrassed, something is wrong).

19. Kids strain relationships. They're something else to fight about. They add stress overall. It's not their fault. They just do. As much as we tell kids it's not their fault (which it's not, exactly) - the stress of adjusting to life with kids and the intimacy/money/free time that go out the window when kids arrive can be enough to expose the instability of a partnership and maybe push it to its breaking point.

20. Kids sap sleep. Whether your baby is crying, your toddler is puking, or the cops bust your teenager for having sex in his/her car after he/she snuck out of the bedroom window. Or your 30-year-old who still lives with you coming home at 3AM, staggering around because they're drunk. My sleep is touch-and-go as it is; I certainly don't need any more help staying awake.

21. No extra doctor bills. No "well-baby" checkups, whatever that means. No school district telling us what to do. No having to express breast milk when it's least convenient. No risk of people chastising you for how you parent, or for having to change diapers/breastfeed in public places. Nobody telling me "they hate me". I don't have to worry that I'm producing the next Hitler, Antichrist, Dahmer, Ted Bundy, David Koresh, Stalin, or Saddam Hussein.

Here are movies that help explain what I *won't* have to go through:
"Parenthood"
"Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead"
"Home Alone"
"Three Men & a Baby"

Etc. The clock chimes, time to leave for the office.

25 MORE CDs one should not be without - Part 6

Hello, and welcome to the (nasally congested) 6th installation of CDs that grace my dusty wooden spinney CD holder.

Your mileage may have certainly varied on the past 5 installations and if it did, it will most likely continue to vary with the next 25 little round discs. So here we go, in (drumroll please) No. Particular. Order.

1. REM - Chronic Town (1980)
2. James Asher - Tigers of the Raj (1998)
3. Smashing Pumpkins - Pisces Iscariot (1994)
4. Zero 7 - Simple Things (2001)
5. No Doubt - Tragic Kingdom (1995)
6. Kitaro - Silk Road (1980)
7. Glass Tiger - Simple Mission (1991)
8. Claude Challe - Karmix ~ Kuon Ganjo (2001)
9. Cranberries - No Need To Argue (1994)
10. Blondie - Parallel Lines (1978)
11. Cypress Hill - Black Sunday (1993)
12. B-52s - Cosmic Thing (1989)
13. Ishq - Sonic Incense Vol. 1 (2002)
14. C+C Music Factory - Gonna Make You Sweat (1991)
15. Madonna - True Blue (1986)
16. Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon (1973)
17. EMF - Schubert Dip (1991)
18. Ace of Base - The Sign (1994)
19. Alice Cooper - Trash (1989)
20. Llewellyn - Andean Spirit (2001)
21. Janet Jackson - Control (1986)
22. Right Said Fred - Up (1991)
23. Oasis - Definitely Maybe (1994)
24. REM - Document (1987)
25. Enigma - Cross of Changes (1994)

Previous links for those who wish to explore:
25 CDs - Part 1
25 CDs - Part 2
25 CDs - Part 3
25 CDs - Part 4
25 CDs - Part 5

The truth about health insurance

About 99% of all prospective new patients who have ever called our office tend to lead off with two questions. 1) how much? and 2) do you take insurance? It annoys me to no end. Sure, they're fair questions and yes, some complementary/alternative medicine services may be recognized and (at least partially) covered by some health insurance plans. But there's more to the story. (Isn't there always?)

First, insurance sucks. Yes, I know it's expensive. That's why I haven't purchased a policy yet myself and when I do, it'll be major medical coverage only, because the return on investment for anything more is a joke.

Don't expect insurance to pay for everything, even if you're coughing up a grand a month on your family policy. This goes double if your insurance policy is less expensive. When your employer offers you a choice between plans, don't choose the cheapest policy and then complain that nobody will take your insurance or that it won't cover anything. You get (kinda) what you pay for. Choose the cheapest major medical policy and then expect exactly that: major medical. Then, pay your doctor for preventive stuff like you'd pay for anything else.

Your doctor is not a dick for not taking your insurance. Here's how insurance works: each year, insurance companies must not only turn a profit, but they have a legal duty to their stockholders to INCREASE this profit every year. If not, the board of directors of the company can be ousted and a new board voted in. Blame the shareholders and the system, not your doctor.

Here's what this increase in profits means: they have to cut corners--I mean COSTS, somewhere. During the last few decades, these cuts have come in several forms, mainly cutting reimbursement to doctors for the services they provide, and also cutting benefits out of your plan and redistributing them to higher-priced plans.

So why does it matter when insurance companies cut reimbursement to doctors? Don't they make enough money already? Well, yes and no. Sure doctors charge high fees. Having been through med school myself, I can tell you it's no cakewalk; that's why not everybody goes through med school. I can tell you that when we graduate with that license and title, we deserve it from what we've already been through. We can literally kill ourselves (or at least eat ourselves alive) going through school. Sure, it's a choice we made, but sometimes it turns out to be a little more than we bargained for.

Anyway, we put ourselves through this because of what the future return will be - we have a certain vision in our minds. The specific vision is different for each doctor, but almost all of us have one that we cling to going through school. We envision caring for patients in a certain way, a certain number of them per day or week, and taking home a certain level of compensation for the work we put in. We also begin to make decision early on that affect our overhead.

When we graduate and get started, we incur a certain level of overhead that includes building rent for office space, equipment, salaries, utilities, malpractice insurance, continuing education, and much, much more. Some of those expenses are "fixed" and won't change much.

We also begin to see a certain amount of income. But the catch is, that's variable. And what's more is, remember I mentioned that insurance companies have been cutting payments to doctors for their services? That means that when I do an ultrasound on a patient today, I make a certain amount of income. Next year, that number will almost always go down. It may not be by much, but it adds up if I do a lot of ultrasounds, and it also adds up each year as reimbursements are cut EVERY year.

What does this mean to you as a patient? Not much on the surface, as most of it goes on behind the scenes. However, you may notice your visits get cut a little shorter, or the doctor seem more hurried. Maybe the doctor is less familiar with your case because s/he wasn't able to spend any of his/her own time investigating your problem (hardly any doctor these days does that anyway). Maybe you had to wait a little longer in the waiting room to see the doctor. Maybe you had to wait several months to get an appointment with that doctor. Why? Because when you have lower reimbursement and thus lower income per service you're providing and you have to meet expenses that are the same or greater than last year, you have NO CHOICE but to make it up in volume. Since you have the same number of hours in a day that you had before and no more opportunity than that, and time is money, that means cramming more patients into the same workday. The lesser service you receive is a product of your demand for insurance coverage.

The truth is, health insurance was never meant to cover EVERYTHING. Yeah, I know what they told you. They lied. Seriously, they did. If health insurance covered everything and still remained affordable, they would operate in the red and go bankrupt very quickly. So do the math - they can't possibly cover much without making premiums astronomical (although many would claim they've done the latter). Expecting health insurance to cover your acupuncture, chiropractic, massage therapy, and nutritional counseling visits is like expecting your car insurance company to cover your oil changes and brake pads. It won't happen, nor should it. Those are normal maintenance expenses and every car owner should be able to shoulder them themselves. Health insurance operates the same way, or at least it should - covering you when you get into a major situation, but leaving the little stuff to you.

Here's the other part you may not realize. PAPERWORK. Every year in almost every medical office, there is a mind-blowing amount of money wasted on full time personnel just to fill out and file insurance paperwork. These folks sit in back rooms for 40 hours a week, putting numeric codes on paper, dotting every i and crossing every t, and they also sit on the phone, wrangling with inept insurance companies and their extensive phone menus and un-knowledgeable customer service reps. It's not the CSR's fault - most of them don't hang around very long, so most of them are new. And of course, their hands are tied behind their backs, crumbling under the weight of the bureaucracy that is an insurance company. I should know, I've had dear friends whose spirits were vacuumed away by these wretched companies whose sole goal in life is to suck in your premium checks but avoid paying anything out to anyone in benefits.

But that paperwork costs your doctor dearly, whether s/he does it him/herself or pays someone else a full salary (typically with some benefits) to do it. Many doctors are shedding this hefty expense (and the extra rent for the bigger office space to do this) and are all the happier for it.

I remember when my significant other saw a reimbursement schedule from one of the lesser-evil insurance companies. They were going to reimburse them a TOTAL of $24 for what added up to essentially a 15-minute service. That might sound like a lot, but it isn't, especially when you figure we spent $160k EACH to go through school. And that 15 minutes doesn't include the unpaid 30 minutes of paperwork that follows, just to get paid by the insurance company. Which doesn't include the 2 hours of waiting on hold when calling the insurance company just to verify a patient's benefits, nor does it count the entire workday to wrangle with said insurance company when the invoice we sent them comes back denied for absolutely no reason. Now, $18 doesn't look so great, does it? Divide that $18 by the total time invested and we made far less than minimum wage. Now figure that we did this for every patient. Yikes.

It doesn't just cost us, it costs you, too. Some people were so hell-bent on utilizing their insurance so-called benefits that they ended up paying MORE in just their in-network co-pay than they would have just paying out-of-pocket (without utilizing insurance). Yeah, it didn't make any sense to us, either. He paid $59 when he could've paid $55. Wow.

As a Functional Medicine doctor, insurance doesn't even have any codes for what it is I do. They don't really even recognize it or know what it is. FM has been around for 30 years, but that doesn't mean the insurance companies are paying any attention. Why should they, when they have no intention of covering it? And yet, people ask. Even knowing all of the information above and after having been told the following:

1) Insurance takes paperwork time, which takes away from your case
2) Insurance doesn't cover longer visits, only shorter ones
3) Insurance doesn't cover complete testing, only incomplete
4) Insurance doesn't cover appropriate treatments, only band-aid ones
5) Insurance requires codes that describe what's going on, but doesn't provide any such accurate coding

...it still doesn't always sink in.

Seriously people, it's time to wake up. Health insurance is a middle man that takes in more than it gives out. This means you always pay for more than you get. It's also SUPPOSED to be a simple safety net, like legalized gambling, to protect you from those major accidents/operations that could set you 6 figures in the hole overnight, or those genetic disorders that spell disaster and cost millions over the course of your lifetime. THAT is what insurance is for. Not your chiropractic adjustment, your nutritional counseling, your 1-hour massage, or your acupuncture treatment.

Open Letters To Various Douchecanoes

Letter #1: Dear Facebook...

Just because I "like" or post a comment on someone's post doesn't mean I want to be notified of every. Single. Subsequent. Comment.

Just because I use an app doesn't mean I want to announce it to the world on my feed.

Just because I post a link in a comment doesn't mean I want to attach a preview to said link.

I don't care that someone I don't know comments on or likes a friend's post. If I don't know everyone involved, leave it off my feed.

Last but not least, was it an instant message? A more email-like message? How do we know, since either one now shows up in the "messages" feed on the left side and also alerts you at the bottom of the screen?

Letter #2: Dear Social Engineers...

I'm not Christian but I do believe that the people supporting your store by generating revenue by buying gifts for others (at your "makes a great gift!" suggestion, by the way), ARE Christians, and not simply "holiday" celebrators. So saying, "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" to avoid offending someone is ridiculous.

I also do believe that the Christmas tree in the window is indeed a CHRISTMAS tree and not a "Holiday" tree.

Letter #3: Dear PC-based computer manufacturers...

I'm done. I am now pricing out my last Mac replacement for my last non-functional PC. The resource allocation is terrible, the drivers for various components are cumbersome, the error messages are far too common, and the software arguing and subsequent crashes have sucked as long as I can remember.

Oh and I'm sick of the back door security holes, the nanny-like regulations, the big-brother-like snapshot of your system upon install, and the horrible tech support (not that I've needed it, but I've heard the horror stories).

My last PC died on me once and for all and this time I'm not going to dump another few hundred bucks into yet another shoddy product in hopes that my troubleshooting process ends quickly. Nor am I going to request my spouse to spend yet another weekend of their own time occupied with said troubleshooting. This weekend, we're sitting on our asses. Then we're going bowling. The Mac should get here in a couple weeks.

I'm converting entirely to Mac once and for all. I've heard the Windows runs better under Parallels on a Mac than it does under regular PC hardware. Total epic fail. You should be ashamed.

Letter #4: Dear Noisy Neighbor Upstairs Who Does NOT Belong In This Particular Apartment Complex

Do you really have to walk like an elephant, rummage around loudly in your closet, and drag your furniture across the floors at both 8.30 in the morning AND 10:45 at night? For several hours at a time? For several days in a row? Really? What, do you have your kids over or something?

And the piece of shit Ford car I'm quite certain is yours hasn't moved from its parking space in days. Do you even work?

When does your lease end? Because I need a countdown to something to look forward to.

Letter #5: Dear I-want-it-now Lady From Last Friday

Thank you for taking your friend up on the referral she gave you to our clinic. Seriously, that's how we grow our practice.

However, I know for a fact that said friend did not tell you that we're a magic aspirin that relieves pain instantly. Nor do we render any treatment without a regular physical exam first. That's not being difficult, that's just following the standard of care, a standard that should be practiced by ANY office.

And I'm sure said friend did not say that we were a charity clinic.

So when you came in during the last possible appointment slot on a Friday, how in the world did you assume that 1) you'd get instant treatment That Day without any kind of physical first, and 2) that you weren't somehow going to compensate your doctor for those services?

Ay-ay-AY.

Thanks-for-giving, Year 4

Thanksgiving this year was both awesome and interesting, unlike any other I've ever had. It's not the only time I didn't spend it with a single family member (besides my husband) - I remember waitressing at a neighborhood bar and having to work on Thanksgiving Day because the douchenozzles decided they couldn't pass up the $100 or so that the bar grossed all day. I remember that that day WAS my first time away from any family and to top it off, my husband also had to work, so I couldn't even enjoy his company. Instead, some of the bar lifers, bless their hearts, brought in some homemade and store-bought Thanksgiving food - turkey, gravy, stuffing, veggies, etc. I remember grabbing a paper plate and being super-thankful for the food, but tearing up a little that I wasn't at home with any family.

Things have changed. This year, I wasn't with other-than-husband family either, but it was COOL. Not that I didn't miss my family (I did), but it was some good fresh scenery. First of all, it took place at some friends' house in rural (but not as rural as you'd think) Hill Country, high up with gorgeous views and a beautiful sunset. It was a close-knit-yet-loose, diverse group, with our friends, their kids and their kids' spouses and friends, and a miscellaneous lady we already had met once or twice. All in all about 9 people total. Very cosmic.

After a delish dinner and heavenly dessert, some of them built a campfire outside and roasted some Smores, while the rest of us gathered 'round with some authentic drums and rattling shakers and did an improv drum circle. Woot!

So let's start the "I'm thankful for..." list off with that - a kick-ass Thanksgiving unlike any other we've had. It's so much fun hanging out with people who aren't convinced they're slowing down.

Let's continue. I'm also thankful for my husband (whom I've known for almost 12.5 years now), 2 fur-kids in good health (both now 9) and coming back to life, family having a good time in the Great White North, an increasingly-prosperous clinic (well, except for this lean month), a CA at the front desk to take the heat off me (and my husband), a nice and healthier/more spacious/lighter/more airy apartment with more room and storage and, well, DIGNITY. I'm thankful to have answers to my health concerns and plans of attack for addressing them. I'm thankful that we uncovered them NOW rather than waiting for years/decades and wasting time and health. I'm glad to have the health I DO have. I'm thankful for the opportunities I have and the strengths and talents I do possess.

I'm thankful for good food to eat, warm shelter, clean water, and now clean air and surroundings. I'm thankful to live in Texas, and South Texas at that. I'm happy to be out of Dallas and to not have to battle rush-hour traffic every morning (so far). I'm thankful not to have to touch a highway/freeway. I'm thankful not to have made any bad investments (stocks, bonds, advertising campaigns, marketing schemes, pyramid schemes, etc). I'm thankful to be increasing (on average) my sleep.

I was hoping to make it out to RenFest north of Houston this year, but it just didn't happen. Money again reared its ugly head. The horoscope says we should be OUT of this problem by Oct 2012, which means I have tentative high hopes for next year. Until then, I'll sit tight and drum - now I just have to find some gluten-free Smores!

The joys of moving

OK, so I have nothing better to do right now than blog. For that, I'm shocked, because today is a jam-packed hang-on-tight kind of day. But right now, there's a lull in my personal sphere of action. It's kind of like being in the eye of the hurricane.

It seems like last month that we went through all this moving stuff. Here I sit, again, sequestered in a room with two freaked-out cats while odd noises and loud voices of unfamiliar people come readily through the walls. This time, though, the room is hot, not cold (yes, we still need the A/C frequently in November here in South Texas). And this time, I have the pleasure of downloading Persian pop music tracks and reading other peoples' Wordpress blogs because I--get this--have an internet connection this time.

Don't forget the boxing things up, the carrying them out, stowing them in the truck, watching closely in the rearview mirror, trudging up and down the stairs eleventy-billion times. And then there's my favorite - underestimating how much STUFF we accumulate, despite a generous pile destined for Goodwill. And my other favorite - the satisfaction over how much progress you've made, then the ensuing fatigue over having done all that work, and then suddenly remembering you still have this entire room over there to do, with the resultant sinking "aw shit".

At least this time, the trip isn't 300 miles, and we're not spreading a house full of stuff into three separate places an hour and a half apart. This is a simple Point-A-to-Point-B, with a detour to the office to drop off two (large) items. The rest goes to the apartment.

And the smells! Ah yes - the bleach, predominantly. And don't forget hints of dust and mold. And this time we have the added bonus of roach proteins! Yes, they smell. Bad. Not enough to make you double over or anything, but there is a persistent mild stench that I will be glad to be rid of. I bleached the kitchen appliances down just in case.

This time, though, I have an allergy problem that I didn't have before. So all this dust, mold, and roach protein is making me sneeze, sniffle, and stuff up.

We moved so fast this time that we didn't have time to collect boxes. Not that we would've had the room to store them anyway--at least, not without getting claustrophobic and irritable. Mom & Dad graciously lent us a set of deep Rubbermaid containers and told us to have at it. We simply reused them, which forced us to unpack each load a little as we went, which makes things a bit easier later.

This is by far the cheapest move we've ever done because we're moving less than half the stuff. The office is established and half of our personal stuff is in storage. Kinda nice.

I can't believe how early it still is. 10.30 am. Given the speed at which the last few days flew, I would've thought it was closer to 2pm. Hell, it'll probably be (almost) all over by then.

Summercreek Apartments Review

One might say that right now I'm not so fair and balanced because I've obviously decided to move out. That probably does pepper my viewpoint with bias. However, in Libra Rising fashion, I'll make two lists: the good AND the bad. And I promise to be as objective as one can be when feeling as though they're being released from a minimum-security prison.

The Good:

Maintenance Crew - they've always been nice and trustworthy, and quick to respond. When we said our A/C unit wasn't working and may need a freon reload, they were right there the next day with a whole new unit.

Quiet - It might be Friday or Saturday night and usually, you'd never know it. Why? It's QUIET. The one military guy (sorry to say) next door had a passion for par-tay and a chip on his shoulder you could palpate to boot, and he was gone within a few months. The ghetto element that moved in over last summer also started dropping like flies by the fall.

Safety - There were indeed some ground-floor break-ins and break-in attempts, but I never did feel unsafe in my apartment or on the grounds. The three people who got arrested (for who-knows-what) on a Saturday were never seen again. Must've been evicted once management caught wind that they went to jail.

Floorplan - The deluxe 2-bedroom is OK - the other 2-bedroom floorplans are just strange. But the floorplan made sense and made for a cozy (read: cramped) sense of home.

Cost - I thought we had 901 square feet but looking at the floorplans, I now realize that we might've had the 967 square feet version. And they quoted us a promo rate of $650/month ($705 regular price). That's pretty dang reasonable per square foot, even in affordable San Antonio.

Furnace - The A/C might be iffy but the heater sure works. Responsive and effective, even the vaulted ceilings (second floor) don't get in the way - the apartment warms up fast!

Management (appears in both lists) - Decent at times, they established a set official "quiet time" during which if you make too much racket, they'll scold you for it (good!). They also had the philosophy of, make it your home. Put up your pictures, bring in your stove and fridge, etc. You can even paint your walls, just turn them back when you're done.

Amenities (kinda) - big balconies, washer/dryer hookups, vaulted ceilings, fireplace, storage closet on the deck, basic workout room, tennis court, and pool.

Location - close to work, short commute, close to 410 and Northstar Mall. Getting to Whole Foods (or anywhere else) is convenient and quick. Didn't matter what time you left the office after work or whether or not you had to go back - traffic was always the same: relatively light! Walking distance to practically everything (the bank - back when we used banks, HEB, Jay's barber shop, several fast food joints, Las Palapas, a few convenience stores, etc).

Drivers in the area - although some are stupid (and nobody likes to stay on their side of the road), most are down-to-earth, forgiving, and not jackasses. Most did not speed, tailgate, cop a 'tude, or anything else.

Long-term residents - apartment complexes always experience turnover, some complexes more than others. We had our share of people coming and going, but overall we had a relatively stable community.

Security - once we got a security officer on our side of the building, our noise level and Bling (oh good, Firefox still underlines that word in red meaning that it doesn't recognize it!) Factor tanked rapidly (a good thing).

Broadband and TV options - when you live this close in, and in this high a population density, you have plenty of options when it comes to elective utilities because apparently we checked out positively in the companies' cost-benefit analysis. So we can pick between Time Warner, AT&T Uverse, Clearwire (Smearwire), etc. You're not relegated to anything in particular.

Ham Radio capability - Not only were we able to bolt several antennae on the outside of the balcony railing without management noticing or caring, but we're also able to aim and fire at the people we like to talk to - although we're in a hole (topographically this time), we were able to direct enough power in the direction of our friends and we got decent reception.

The Bad:

The Infestations - Even being on the second floor above the ground doesn't help. Roaches, ants, and other bugs all took up residence in our apartment, despite all our efforts to keep it clean and use toxic sprays to repel/kill them.

Lack of remodeling - I'm not obsessed with "change" just for the sake of change - my philosophy is, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. However, some things just need fixing. The place is kinda falling apart - balconies are loose, kitchen fixtures are detaching from the ceiling, the flooring isn't sealed with caulking, the drains are finicky and there are some water leaks, etc.

Overall shape of the place - Lots of scratches, nicks, dents, gouges in the walls, doors, doorframes, and baseboards. The carpet was installed quickly and shoddily, so threads are coming up at the edges by the walls. Did I mention that nobody even sealed the laminate flooring?? And let's talk about the trash (wrappers, empty water bottles, coke cans, bags, etc) that line our bushes out front...and our parking lot...

Management (appears in both lists) - you mean to tell me 1 guy in a tiny 1-bedroom apartment is permitted to take up 4 spaces with the 4 ugliest, most unsightly vehicles in the complex...and there's no policy against this?? And I swear they stopped running background checks or criminal records in May 2010. They might've resumed doing so since then, though, after witnessing the consequences.

Lack of ambiance - yay - I get to look out onto a large parking lot. With hardly a tree in the whole place. I either stare starkly into the sun or starkly away from it. My apartment is a dark shoebox. Instead I get to look across the street at the other dilapidated complexes, with their paint peeling and their window blinds destroyed. Oh lovely.

Allergy factor - Did I mention there are roaches? (They give off plenty of allergens, both into the air and onto surfaces - it's the proteins on their bodies, their egg sacs, and their feces. Hungry yet?) There is also a ton of mold and dust. Vents are filthy, the A/C unit spits out more humidity than cool air, and I'm sure the bare floor never got cleaned before new carpet was put down.

Cutting Corners - Let's install the CHEAPEST A/C unit we can find, nevermind that it's too small for the size of unit we're trying to cool because hey--we don't pay electricity; the tenants do, and who cares about the humidity it puts out because hey--the tenants can always run a dehumidifier, which they ALSO pay for. And, let's not caulk the linoleum. The roaches will need a place to hide.

Two worlds collide

Whenever I'm/we're about to do something fairly hare-brained and crazy (which is often enough that we have indeed established a method), we weigh the pros and cons. Doing so before actually making a final decision is optional.

This time, the decision on the table was not whether or not we were going to move to another apartment, but rather, which, and when.

It did not turn out the way I expected.

Pros of moving:
The old apartment: The Roaches - they have plagued (almost literally) our entire unit, mostly the kitchen. And we're seeing them during the day as well as at night, so you know it's a pretty good infestation, probably involving multiple units. The population is so bad that I was jazzed to only see 3 full-grown roaches today, but that elation was quickly deflated when I realized that 2 of them were outside the kitchen...in places I hadn't previously seen them before. In short, they're traveling further and probably spreading accordingly.

The new apartment, on the other hand, is the cleanest, best-kept apartment I've ever seen. And no, they don't ALL look like that before you move in. There are no crevices or spaces between the ceiling and cabinets that are slowly detaching from said ceiling.

The old apartment: The Hood - we're growing both annoyed and concerned at all the graffiti (old AND new) appearing *everywhere*. Apparently, hoodlums feel they absolutely MUST tag everything in sight as if they owned it. Pathetic. Really? What's the point of tagging a street sign? A utility box on a telephone pole? A dumpster? Ooooh, you claimed that dumpster! That baby is YOURS! You must be proud. Losers.

The new apartment? You're lucky to FIND a dumpster out in the open, much less anything with any graffiti on it at all. It's an upper-scale neighborhood. No gangs tolerated.

The old apartment: The Decay (sort of an offshoot of The Hood) - our entire neighborhood is Apartment Row. Our complex is maybe a step up in caliber from Section 8; although I know some public-assistance housing that actually looks better and has fewer problems! Here's what happened: developers threw some fire-trap shacks together in 1981, painted them to look nice, and....nothing changed. They could barely muster a cosmetic facelift on the exterior every few years. And when they do, they rave: "come check out our new renovation!!" Umm, people don't live on the outside of the apartment, they live on the inside...which still hasn't changed one iota. Also, there are also complaints in online forums of sky-high electric bills despite tiny apartment sizes, due to management's decision to cheap out on air-conditioning units and go with the smallest choice possible. And shall we talk thin walls and shoddy, creaking floors? Yes, you can hear *everything*. And don't even get me started on how the linoleum flooring was laid LAST so it crunches up around the dishwasher and wasn't even bothered to be adhered to the floor with any sort of caulking (yes, it just curls up at the edges, in perfect harmony with roaches' ideal hiding habits).

(The new apartment: See all of the above. Add to that the fact that the new apartment is MUCH more contemporary, without going all hideous HGTV on us.)

The old apartment: The Safety Hazard - since we've been here, there have been multiple fully-involved fires at these complexes. There have been break-ins. There have been arrests. There is a major drug-dealing problem, confined to about two units. Police don't always respond in a reasonable timeframe. And yes, we have now witnessed a gang fight...probably 2 of them.

(The new apartment: See above about the cleanliness and excellent maintenance, and lack of gang activity tolerance.)

The old apartment: The Parking - call me a snob (it's OK, you can do it), but over the past nearly-2 years, I've grown very weary of seeing so many cars parked in premo spaces for weeks on end without moving. A single guy (extremely unkept) owns about 4 absolute piece-of-crap cars, all over 25 years old, and all lacking full coats of paint. Headlights that should close into the hood are stuck open. His ugly-ass mini-van actually had a flat for weeks before he realized it. Tired of our nightly struggle to find decent parking after 5pm, we complained to management. Their response? They didn't even have a set limit on how many parking spaces each unit could occupy at once. No policy whatsoever to enforce.

The new apartment: there is no such parking problem because they actually planned for enough space, and there are hardly any vehicles over 10 years old (in other words, no beaters). In fact, I think our pickup truck is going to be the most beat up vehicle of all of them.

The old apartment: The Dark - we have 3 whole windows. Granted, they're large - 2 patio doors and 1 full-length bedroom window. But it almost resembles tenement housing in the Bronx. And you look out into a parking lot. No trees, no ambiance. Even though we face southeast, and even in the middle of the day (or the morning, even), our apartment is like a black hole. Yes, even with all blinds wide open.

The new apartment: can we say WINDOWS??? The entire west-facing wall of the living room is nothing but quality, solid windows. Both bedrooms AND the kitchen have similar wonderful windows. All face west, with a tree in front. Incoming light from the security lights across the campus will be effectively filtered out by real metal (not nearly-transparent plastic) blinds. Woot!

The Kids' Health - I am fed up with watching Maddie deteriorate in response to being stuffed in what is essentially a shoe box. Half the square footage and maybe 20% of the light that she's used to, she went months without seeing a bird or dead leaf to play with. She's not well. Not too far gone yet, but I think the darkness, the cramped-ness, and the roaches have all gotten to her. It's time to get her the hell out. Murphy too, although he doesn't seem to be so affected. I'm sure the bug infestations aren't helping, though.

With the new apartment, Maddie gets her light and space back, and both cats get OUT of the roaches. She gets a large kitchen, in which she can catch flying kitty crunchies and chase them across the floor, much like playing hockey. We can probably bring her crock pot back and set it on a counter so she can curl up in it again.

Our Health - in addition to darkness, roaches, and God-knows-what-else, the vents haven't been cleaned, so you know they're moldy, which I am seriously allergic to. The carpet is new but is cheap and has given off lots of toxic gas. Smokers moved in downstairs and you can catch a whiff fairly frequently. Dust is EVERYWHERE. And we've had some really dumpy, trashy families with NO PRIDE bring in bugs, including bedbugs (and probably sustained the roaches, too).

Walking through the new apartment, I was TRYING to find the tiniest imperfections to put on the pre-move-in checklist, I simply couldn't find many. I had to mark OK on a lot of the blanks. Never had that happen before. Even the A/C vents were completely clean.

OK, the cons of moving:
The Commute - currently, it's 7 minutes and I never have to touch a main artery, much less a freeway. It doesn't matter when we leave the office because the traffic is the same; we notice no difference.

At the new apartment, our commute almost doubles to 12 minutes, and that's if traffic is free-sailing, which in the afternoon it will be, but at night after closing, it will NOT be. There's no real easy, traffic-free way home, either. Just gotta suck it up or leave at a different time.

Rent - currently, we pay pretty low rent. Our new rent will be about 50% more (more like 33% over what our current unit is priced at right now and thus, where our rent would have increased to had we renewed our lease). Overall, not too bad a jump, but we WILL feel it financially. This will be offset by a much cheaper Time Warner package!

We lose AT&T Uverse - I love my Uverse. I get fantastic download speeds, no internet usage caps, relatively reliable phone service, and an excellent cable lineup, without having to endure all of the pissing contests that Time Warner frequently tangles itself up in. AT&T has been great. However, there is NO fiber-optic broadband capability at all in the new neighborhood. (Why?? Those folks are the perfect market and there's plenty of them!! But I digress...) So, we had to do what I swore we'd never do: go back to Time Warner. We've had it before and couldn't wait to get away. In fact, opted for a more expensive service just so we could get away. We shall see.

No real ham radio capability - at least, not easily. Can't drill holes or sport any obvious antennae. And, we face west--the exact opposite direction. That's going to present quite the challenge. I told hubby that if all else fails I'd drive him to a big hill where we can sit and check into TalkNet from a mobile station. It's a half hour a week. We shall see on this one, too.

Pickier management - this is both good and bad. It's good in that they're picky about who moves here and how they conduct themselves. It's bad in that they're SO picky that they highly discourage anyone from storing even bicycles on the deck (although many residents do). And there is NO drilling any holes for antennae, cable, or satellite. That presents a few obstacles.

But overall, we think the pros of moving far outweigh the cons. Even though the cons are fairly substantial, it's not worth staying in our current building over. In fact, we're so solid in our decision to get the hell out that we are putting our notice in early (before the required 60-day deadline) and vacating our apartment 3 1/2 months early, even if it means paying double rent for that time.

Playlist: I-35 Songs

Lord knows I've done enough driving throughout almost all of the Great State of Texas. Indeed, I've driven almost the entire length of I-35, save for a couple hours on each end - but I *have* done every single mile in between. In the days pre-iPod, we were at the mercy of the local radio band, none of which we were really familiar with. Once we had capacity for obscene amounts of music, we filled it. Here were some of our selections.

"Living in a Magazine" by Zoot Woman
"Midnight Cowboy" by Faith No More
"My First Million" by Human Radio
"Mercy Beat" by Reckless Kelly
"Where's My Thing?" by Rush
"Sideways" by Men Without Hats
"Wherever You Are" by Ulrich Schnauss
"Beat the Time" by Edie Brickell & New Bohemians
"American Remains" by Highwaymen
"Believe" by Bravery
"The Plank" by Buffalo Tom
"Only the Young" by Journey
"Faster Disco" by Faith No More (sorry, I know it appeared elsewhere)
"Right Here, Right Now" by Fatboy Slim
"Dreamland" by Rush
"Maneater" by Nelly Furtado
"Take Shelter" by Active Child
"Take the Wheel" by Deric Ruttan
"Highway Patrol" by Junior Brown
"Dancing in the Moonlight" by Men Without Hats
"A Million Miles Away" by Plimsouls
"Underwater Love" by Faith No More

Playlist: Songs for Houston & I-10 Across South Texas

The stretch of I-10 between San Antonio and Houston is a long one. There aren't nearly as many towns as one might expect along an interstate that major and between two such prominent cities. And in fact, the interstate itself is rather desolate - divided 4-lane all the way, and it might as well be a rural highway, because one can barely tell it's an interstate. It's just a rural highway with limited access and a higher speed limit is all.

At least the scenery is pretty, though, especially once you get past the turnoffs for Lockhart/Luling. So here's a little soundtrack to go along with the vibe.

"La Grange" by ZZ Top
"The Thing That Helps Me Get Through" by Michael Franti & Spearhead
"Run (I'm a Natural Disaster)" by Gnarls Barkley
"These Days" by REM
"Working Man Blues" by Alarm
"Union House Branch" by Alison Krauss & Union Station
"Southbound Again" by Dire Straits
"You're All I've Got Tonight" by the Cars
"Maybe It Won't Last" by Woodentops
"Out at the Pictures" by Hot Chip
"Going On" by Gnarls Barkley
"You Wreck Me" by Tom Petty
"Here & Now" by Steve Vai
"Sleazy" by Village People
"Minutes To Memories" by John Mellencamp
"A Million Things" by Lucy Show
"9-9" by REM
"Who's Gonna Save My Soul" by Gnarls Barkley

Playlist: San Antonio Songs

I've started taking "me" time at night, which usually involves leaving the laptop in my backpack and opting for the iPad instead. This way, I can leave in-progress work projects alone without any temptation to peek at them and instead, I can simply surf the web for pleasure at night in front of the TV. Kinda like Dad with the newspapers and Time/Life magazines of yore.

Along my web-traveling path, I came across a blog in which a post discussed how the author had many song playlists for various themes, events, and moods, but lacked one for being ANGRY. Indeed, there are very few good angry playlists out there. No doubt I'll make my own.

Instead, though, I thought I'd post some various playlists, too, leading off with one unique to San Antonio. This may or may not be all-inclusive and of course, your mileage may vary. To really "get it" you'd probably have to live here.

"Mirando Las Muchachas" by Mexican Institute of Sound
"When It Falls" by Zero 7
"Popcorn" by Hot Butter
"Faster Disco" by Faith No More
"En El Borde" by Soda Stereo
"What Do New York Couples Fight About (Instrumental)" by Morcheeba
"No Place Like Home" by Squeeze
"I Have Seen" by Zero 7
"Get Down Tonight" by KC & the Sunshine Band
"Still In This Thing" by Boomers
"Rock This Town" by Stray Cats
"Mexican Radio" by Wall of Voodoo
"El Gato" by Bon y Los Enemigos Del Silencio
"Eternidad" by La Ley
"Crosses" by Zero 7

Yep, a little dusty boredom, some down-home chillin, a bit of spicy Latino, some musty organic nostalgia, some daydreaming in oppressive heat, and indeed: there's no place like home.

Just an FYI about TX license CN4 Y355

Today on I-10 coming into San Antonio, we got tailgaited (couldn't even see his headlights in my rearview mirror, and without letting up) at 70-80 mph, and then nearly run off the road when he couldn't pass me on the shoulder. He then pulled right in front of me and jammed on his brakes, trying to make me hit him. (I didn't.) Then I saw him do the same thing to several other cars, pulling RIGHT in front of them after passing them (on the right, left, didn't matter), and forcing cars to slam on their brakes. All the while doing anywhere from 75-90 going into town with heavier and heavier traffic.

He was driving a gold SUV (of course) and his license plate was TEXAS CN4 Y355. It was a male in his 30s-60s. Just in case you're considering hiring him for a job, selecting him as a mate (please don't), or getting into a car with him (lol) you may want to think twice. Or, just in case you got tangled up with this asshat on the road, just know you're not alone.

Again, license plate CN4 Y355, out of Texas.

Yes, we made a report with the Bexar County Sheriff's Dept. His license is on file. If he's been as big a douchenozzle to you as he was to us and about 5 other vehicles (within about 3 minutes), please do the same - let's get him revoked!

I will not eat green eggs & ham...and other obstinate affirmations

I've come across a few things lately that I've found have varying degrees of adverse impacts on my sanity. So, I will not partake. If you'd like to contribute to the preservation of my sanity, please feel free to follow in my footsteps and even make up your own.

I will not participate in Facebook games, apps, quizzes, hugs, smileys, greetings, sweepstakes, family trees, networking apps, or coupon deals. Anything that wants me to subscribe and give them permission to mine all my data (and that of my friends) is out. Litmus test: the permission screen.

I will not post chain-letter-like statuses on my wall. I'm already aware of fibromyalgia, breast cancer, child abuse, the wars in the Middle East, and just about any other cause out there, and I'm sure everyone else is, too. I admire the spirit, but seeing these make the copy-paste rounds gets a little tiring.

Likewise, I will not email "Forwards" - you know--chain letters, dire warnings, jokes, Bible verses, etc (unless they are over-the-top funny/important/etc). I can always tell when my older friends/relatives get bored - they send about 20 Forwards a day. Unlike the retired/semi-retired/less-busy folks I know, I've got a mountain of things to do and I simply don't have time to read everything.

I do not check my work email on weekends. Maybe on Sunday night so I know what I might be walking into Monday morning (my job is currently full of one mini-crisis after another, which maybe will change and maybe won't), but that's it. I've advised my clientele that if the situation really is urgent, they can call my cell on weekends. But this unties me from the email and their expectation of a quick response or resolution.

This weekend, I didn't open my laptop once. I took it out of my bag to plug it in so it wouldn't run out of juice and shut down. Other than that, I did nothing else with it. That's got to be some kind of record....

....and I hope I set more.

Really?

My favorite new word of late has been "really?" As in, "really, Facebook, you had to make another pointless change?" or, "really, BMW? You just had to pull right in front of me?"

I have a couple other "really?"s...

Patient "B" wants receipts with codes so they can submit them to their insurance. No problem. Except that they want everything from January on. As in, almost 10 months. Really? They couldn't have let us know a little earlier in the year?

Patient "J"'s insurance keeps sending us letters wanting more information, claiming they don't already have complete info. (Top secret: they do. They're just dicking around, and framing us to look like the bad guys that THEY are.) Really, insurance companies? You seriously didn't see the provider name, address, NPI, TIN, diagnosis code, and procedure code neatly typed out on the receipt our patient--your customer--sent you?

The apartment is bathed in cockroaches - still. We keep everything clean, no dishes in the sink - hell, dishes get put away even before they're dry. The trash is emptied daily. Everything's fresh and clean. I have no idea how they're continuing to subsist.

Three particular users of my P2P program each feel the need to--and have no qualms about--queuing 14 CDs at once. I even had to send out some individual messages to remind them that 3-4 CDs at once is plenty. And after that, I had to send out a second reminder to WAIT until the current queue had finished before queuing more. Sheesh! Really guys? It's not like I'm never online. Chill already.

So the word "really" is great - it's very versatile and can help convey an interesting combo of sarcasm, disgust, and snark, all in two neat little syllables.

Bestest birthday present

I need to take a special moment to celebrate an extraordinary occasion: we just hired our first employee. Wam, bam, done deal. Just like that.

It started innocently enough on Wednesday night. We nabbed our massage therapist's significant other to help out with an evening new-patient orientation, gave her a crash course in Our Office 101 and some minimal vague instructions for that evening's affair, and turned her loose. She's psychic. She's a genius. She's a natural. She handled it all.

I had nothing to lose; I asked the question. Casually, half-joking. "So...you should totally come work for us." Actually, it was more of a joke than half-joking because I knew it was a pipe dream. This person had just graduated from school for something different, something that would pay more than we possibly could.

Imagine my surprise when she said, "I'm seriously thinking about it." At first I thought she was humoring me. "Really? I mean, I totally understand if..." I knew she was headed to greener pastures and I was chock-full of wishful thinking. But what if...

Strategically, I dripped bits of suggestion her way, even going so far as to caress the front counter and say, "this whole area could be yours..."

Wow, that was easy! I had been trying to mentally gear up for the onslaught of extra work I had previously been about to dump on myself - the email replies, the preliminary applications, the more advanced stages of application, the first and second interviews (along with compiling lists of relevant questions and pre-deciding ideal answers), selecting the final candidates, then the top pick, and then finally, training.

Make no mistake, there's still training involved. There always is. The CA field is not the most common of job positions, so many don't have experience. I've always been prepared for that.

But with our CA on board, I now have just one final email to send: "The position has been filled; may we retain your information on file?"

And now I can actually breathe.

Have you heard? the (blue) bird is the word

Yep, it's official. After almost 8 months, I am back on the world's favorite P2P file-sharing program that every broadband ISP loves to hate (too cool for legit channels and too lazy to master BitTorrent).

I've been back for roughly 48 hours and already, I've downloaded over 8 gigabytes. Well over 8 gigabytes. And the lion's share of that came in all day yesterday (Sundays are very convenient). Yesterday I picked up all the latest ambient releases, and today I picked up all the new releases from popular artists. By the end of the day, REM, No Doubt, and Foo Fighters were mine. REM has disappointedly all but abandoned their trademark jangle-pop sound and No Doubt put the same 14 tracks in a different order, but Foo Fighters was well worth waiting for. They've strayed from their original roots, but it has been a well-penned evolution. After 6 years of doing a whole lot of nothing, Iio finally released something new as well. All in all, a success! It sure beat responding to the 10th practice email - not that I don't value them, but occasionally, enough can be enough.

Surprisingly (or maybe not), all my old list-buddies remembered who I was and we picked up where we left off - the chatting, the passing of cheese, the invites to exclusive invite-only VIP chatrooms, the warm welcome-backs, the respectful queuing, and lack of drama.

And yet, this time around, I'm bound and determined to minimize any and all of that said drama. Drama sucks and I didn't intentionally spark any before, but opening the collection up to anyone and everyone and downloading from those with whom I had very little in common linguistically, well, kind of set the stage for trouble. It had been such a chore to keep up with that P2P program - having to monitor for leechers and make judgment calls (leeching versus sharing is less of a black-and-white issue and more of a continuum), as well as setting download limits, unequal up/download speeds, dealing with people who didn't share, people who cussed me out, people to messaged me pointlessly, and more. Annoying.

So upon my return, I made a few changes. First, I share list-only. I'm sure that wins me more hostility than sympathy/empathy, but it's my connection after all and I don't have the time or desire to babysit. I also find that the program functions better the more I can keep control over the activity. So in the interest of stability (program) and sanity (mine), I share list only.

Where possible, I also download list-only, which means I try to search for the files I'm looking for among the people in my buddy list first. If I'm not successful, THEN I venture outside the buddy list. I'm not trying to be snobby, just trying to stay as familiar as possible. People on my buddy list already know I'm sharing and I don't have to explain (AGAIN) why they can't see my files, whereas I start from scratch and risk a ban every time I download from someone I don't know. (With more than 6 terabytes to browse, I'm surprised anyone can browse me at all, so the fact that people can queue files is encouraging.)

I kept my user info as simple and to-the-point as possible. I kept it as down-to-earth as possible. Hopefully people will get the idea that I'm mature, busy, common-sense, and have little time to police my machine, fill requests, or solve any problems. It's a controlled anarchy, within my parameters.

So far, it is peaceful and friendly, and hopefully it will stay that way. I didn't enjoy having to become a hardass and I didn't enjoy having to referee and explain and everything else. People were mean and/or stupid and I'm glad I haven't dealt with any of that yet. I probably will run into some of these douchebags eventually, but for right now I'm basking in the music-only-nothing-else vibe I'm putting out that is so far being gracefully returned to me.

Yay for birds :)

Children of the (cross-reactive) corn

Out of curiosity (and out of necessity--I also needed to be a guinea pig) I decided to run my own test panel through this new lab we established an account with. The test was yet another food reaction test panel (where you test a group of foods to see if you react to them), but rather than doing just one immunoglobulin (IgE or IgG) it did both IgG and IgA. And it grouped all the usual suspects together in one panel of all the foods gluten-reactive people are like to ALSO react to.

Ha.

Life dealt me another Joker. It was cruel. (Hint: not a new concept when it comes to my lab testing and forced dietary restrictions and whatnot.)

I react to (deep breath): milk (all protein subtypes), wheat (all protein subtypes and genetic varieties), coffee, (milk) chocolate, gluten-containing grains (we knew that): kamut, spelt, rye, barley, gluten-free grains (suspected some, like sorghum): buckwheat, millet, quinoa, pistacio, tapioca, sorghum, potato, corn, and hemp. I CAN still have: yeast, rice, and amaranth. Wewt.

Never expected corn. Or potato. And I haven't even HAD help or quinoa enough to develop a reaction to it. I'm not emotional about rice, so it's kind of a so-what that I would gladly trade for something else, but then, I can at least have my Clearvite, my Pei Wei, my basmati (not that we have that much right now), rice noodles (in case I ever want them), and my Sushihana (their salmon and rice just plain rocks and every 10 years I can stomach sushi).

I am still having chocolate. Why? Because the test only evaluated for MILK chocolate and since I'm positive for milk, I don't actually know whether I react to chocolate itself. Sooooo....

Warpath Wednesday

Yep, I know I ranted a couple months back. It was that whole PMS thing. Well, I need to do it again, and this time, I don't even have PMS. This time, though, I'll try to come up with accompanying solutions. At least, where possible.

Gripe: Microsoft PCs
I despise them. And the more I use my Mac, the more I despise Microsoft. It freezes. It hangs. It gets confused. It can't multitask, no matter how much RAM you put in or how well-hung the CPU is. It's just not happening. My Mac has less RAM and a less powerful processor and yet, I've had to restart it maybe 3 times since January. And I've used it every day and night, with a gazillion programs running, browser windows open, PDF and Pages documents in progress, etc. I also can't stand the cryptic error messages, the excruciatingly long boot-up process, and the Office Clippy mascot.

Solution: Get away from PC altogether as fast as possible. (Reflex problem: lack of funding to do so. Reflex solution: be patient and save up.)

Gripe: Allergies who think they can come in and dominate my day
Sure, they just barge right in and take up residence as if I didn't actually need my brain and the ability to breathe or anything. So I embarrassingly sneeze through the day - those uncontrollable, don't-bother-trying-to-finish-your-sentence sneezes that come in a rapid-fire string like planes lined up on final approach to a major airport on a busy Friday night. These are the muscle-seizing, incapacitating sneezes where I can't hear anything, can't say anything, and can't carry out any other task. Repeatedly. All day. Thanks heaps.

Solution: Still looking. Homeopathics haven't done a thing. Herbs and herbal teas haven't done a thing. Nothing. Still looking to pharmaceuticals to save the day, and only a handful of them actually work (Claritin and Allegra are scams).

Gripe: Not enough fucking office space
I've outgrown my office. And my reception area. My books are stacked on my chiropractic table, constantly needing to be shuffled around to whichever area of my room I use the least. So are my binders--lots of them. Why? Because I have no bookcase and I don't dare put them on the floor lest I have one more thing to trip over.

Solution: Mercury needs to go golldamn direct so we can get a move on this other suite.

Gripe: Not enough golldamn time or memory
I'm trying to do the work of anywhere from 3-5 people at once. I also have no oxygen going to my brain and my thyroid hormones are low. Throw in a dozen different cross-reactive foods of which I wasn't aware and of which I'm constantly exposed to, and it makes for very poor brain function. Things slip through the cracks and people ask things of me that I will simply forget. I feel like I have too many demands put on me and no one else can help me.

Solution: Hire an assistant...again, Mercury is an issue. (Isn't it always?)

Gripe: Patients to whom I've given the world that begin to complain about prices/expenses and actually go so far as to ask if the new information I'm about to present actually needs a visit (!!)
Uh, yeah. It does. It took me time to research the problem, time to design the protocols and time to make the handouts, none of which I got paid for. It took me time to travel to the classes that taught me this stuff and time to sit in the class and learn all of it, none of which I got paid for but instead *I* paid for. Now, my time and expertise are all I have to sell. And I have given away A SHIT-TON of time and expertise FOR FREE to several of my patients. So yeah, I'm actually going to collect SOMETHING for my time. I'm a doc. I went through school. I paid dearly in MANY ways, some of which I cannot undo or pay back (i.e. my time and my health). I currently drive a scratched up truck badly in need of a tune-up and I live in a low-income apartment with my husband who is also a doctor. And now I'm about to present new information to a patient who has historically taken MUCH time to ask MANY questions. Yeah, I'm gonna get paid.

Solution: I'm too much of a bargain as it is. Charge MORE. This will command the respect I deserve for the time I put in to each case and the results that I produce. Put a complete stop to lengthy informative emails and instead start doling out a simple Yes, No, or Too Long So Make An Appointment. Rejoice in the fact that I'm doing more volume, more successfully and ride that wave!

Gripe: Facebook stress
This, too, is something I've sort of brought on myself by letting things get out of hand and get to me. I've subscribed ("liked") too many groups and causes and I'm getting deluged. (Same could be said for Meetup, LinkedIn, and other naggy sites.) I've already waxed several people off my friends list because of drama and whatnot, which I just plain don't put up with, but now it comes down to all the political groups and such. Yeah, I'm right there with them in spirit, but there comes a point where I reach a limit, beyond which I just. Don't. Care anymore.

Solution: Trim the FB groups and start using FB for more benign things like professional networking/contacts, fun posts like eclectic music, and informative posts about things a broader audience can appreciate.

Gripe: Those cross-reactive foods
Ugh. I did my own food sensitivity test a few weeks ago. Rest assured, the tests I run do not return a false positive. If anything, it will be a false negative, but even that scenario isn't real likely. I ran a panel of like 20 different foods and lo and behold, I'm only negative for THREE. Yes, of the 20-something foods I tested, I CAN have only three. Everything else I've been eating is producing a similar reaction, even stronger than some of the gluten grains. WTF?? The interesting part? I did not perceive these reactions. I thought I was FINE. I wouldn't have known had I not been tested.

Solution: Rejoice in the fact that I can have 3 of those foods without a problem and that I at least know about the rest (it's better than not knowing) and go pretty much dairy-free, egg-free Paleo from here (minus peanuts, strawberries, kiwi, and raw tomatoes). Jesus.

Cross fingers for our space and a good assistant! (And an abatement of the allergies.) I think I can get through the rest.

Random questions to no one in particular

If I tested positive for corn, oats, tapioca, potato, buckwheat, millet, sorghum, milk, chocolate, sesame, quinoa, and more, what's left?

And why does every food I react to have to be something I like? The only foods I did not react to are rice, yeast, and amaranth. Seriously?

Why is it that as soon as I find (and fall in love with) something cool, Whole Foods Market has to pull it off the shelf (always blaming the "suppliers")?

Why does Teen Nick have to keep changing their lineup...which is not an improvement?

Why does 10pm have to invite all the scary, disturbing, fight-or-flight-inducing TV shows, documentaries, and infotainment? They rev it up just as I'm trying to lull myself to sleep.

Why do drivers swing out in the opposite direction just before making a turn?

Why are the cosmetically-nicest parts of town also the rudest?

What is the point of blasting the volume on the TV commercials, especially after the advent of the mute button?

Why are the shittiest companies also the biggest and most profitable? (It's not like most of them were even good at one time and deteriorated over time; many large companies were simply never good - always selling cheap products at inflated prices via subpar/absent customer service.)

Why does Facebook keep having to make ridiculous and pointless changes?

How did I not hear of Family Guy until 2009? (Answer: the Universe wanted me to actually pass med school.)

How is it that neighbors in our apartment complex keep moving out and yet we still continue to have a parking problem?

Why does family have the tendency to treat you like you're 16 no matter how old you are?

Why are there so many freaking crazy people (especially in San Antonio LOL)?

How does Beezit sell an iPad for $13? Why would anyone even do this?

Why do people still go to Walmart? (It's not like it's any cheaper to have to buy that skillet/shirt/etc *again* because it didn't last the first time.)

Why do iPad, iPhone, and Facebook games have graphics of 1993 caliber?

Why did anyone think the "Good Mood Food" Arby's jingle was acceptable?

How did shows like Robot Chicken, That 70s Show, and others even make it on to the airwaves?

Why do people buy comprehensive insurance plans? They always cost more than they provide.

I'm sure there are more random rhetorical musings, but it's getting late and the office will be waiting for me early in the morning.

Out here in the middle (of insanity)

I used to want to live in the country. I wanted a mile between our house and our nearest neighbor. I wanted to grow my own produce, raise my own cows, make my own clothes, cultivate my own herbs, and ride horses to the nearest...wherever. It was beautiful. It was utopian. It was bliss. It was also crazy.

It wasn't so much the thought itself. I mean, more people than not conjure up pipe dreams of yester-century America, a la Charlotte's Web or Johnny Appleseed. And at some point in their lives, some may begin to think, why not try to bring dreams to reality? What's stopping us?

I'll tell you what ends up stopping us (or, for those who succeed, make them end up regretting it). It's the fact that no matter what kind of utopia you succeed in creating, it stops once you reach the end of your property line. The rest of the world still doesn't think the same way. Even in the deep recesses of the central Texas heartland, you still find SUVs, Volkswagon Bugs, Smartcars, and yuppies on cellphones. They just happen to have a more rural zipcode.

Or, you can end up in my parents' predicament: living next to an utterly crazy lady. She's the most dangerous kind because to all but the most ESP-gifted and aware, she appears completely normal, competent of living on her own, and self-sufficient. In fact, she earns Gold Stars among the conservative country bumpkin backdrop: she's a survivor. At first glance, she can stand on her own two feet. But after several years (and several failed marriages, the last two of which we have witnessed coincidentally ending up in the husband-du-jour going off the psychiatric deep end), a different picture begins to emerge.

Suddenly, the real situation is revealed: a mentally unstable individual who raises two children, one of whom is of the too-quiet type (kinda like Jeffery Dahmer in his early years) and the other of whom can do absolutely no wrong because they are Momma's Favorite, on whom the sun both rises AND sets. Both are reaching a dangerous age and are left on their own far too long (and often) with far too little supervision. It's kind of taking the "it takes a village to raise a child" a little too far. Neighbors several houses over (in the country, mind you) are having to take a more active role in supervising and guiding these children through puberty and boundaries/limitations than their own biological parents. One of whom is probably already in a psych ward and the other of whom should probably join him.

And now it culminates in the underwear-wetting "oh shit" possibility that this crazy neighbor may in fact have one of my parents' new housekeys. Hence the semi-frantic phone call to the office this morning. It's not that I mind coming to the rescue; it's that I mind that good people have to put up with this crap in the first place. And what's worse, in the area you'd least suspect. The area to which you move to get away from problems like this.

So what's the purpose of this post? Well, probably several-fold.

First, don't ever for a second think that you'll escape insane nutjobs just because you move to the country. There are about as many crazy people per square mile whether you're in the city or the country, I guarantee it. Don't think your life will be peace and quiet because there is always something and there is always (at least) one person who dominates your attention.

Second, I'm hoping to maybe establish a record, i.e. sort of a "Kilroy was here" in case anything ever DOES come of this incident. Incidents like this have been known (frequently) to escalate into something more serious. And the cops are getting really good at Google, so even though I prefer to remain quite anonymous, where there's a will, there's a way if someone really wants to find out.

Third, research your neighbors (even several houses down, if you can) no matter WHERE you're moving, BEFORE you buy. Do NOT ignore your gut, either. The "benefit of the doubt" mindset creates lots of future victims. Don't be "nice". Be vigilant.

Fourth, don't hold stuff for your neighbors, especially if there has been ANY incidence of substance abuse, psychiatric instability, economic/financial instability, serious domestic conflict, a refusal to supervise/discipline children properly, etc. Seriously. My mom was "nice" and held this crazy neighbor's spare key for her should the kids lock her out of the house (by accident or on purpose - that should tell you something) and it may have resulted in this insane lady possibly having my parents' house key in her possession. If your neighbor is that flighty or full of potential conflict, you may have a problem on your hands. All of the clues mentioned earlier in this paragraph were there. Don't be afraid to look hard enough, see those things for what they are, and react/protect yourself accordingly.

Fifth - for God's sake, if your kids tell you they have fewer problems in the city and encourage you to move closer in, frigging do so :)

Huey, Dewie, Louie, and... Stewie

If I said there was never a dull moment, that would be an understatement.

I have a "baby bump" but there is NO BABY. (Sorry Mom.) Yet, I'm the equivalent of 20 weeks pregnant. That's 5 months. I have (at least) 4 separate uterine fibroids that range in size from lemon to grapefruit. I don't know exactly when they started, because anywhere from 50-80% of all childbearing-age women have them and only about 25% have any symptoms at all; the rest don't even know they have them. I do know that just after I started this blog, I gained weight. Lots. Fast. Easily. I went from 132 to 151 in 4 short months without changing a thing. In fact, shortly thereafter, I started exercising more. No dice.

When you look around you at all the people leading crappy lifestyles and you notice they all have muffin tops, fanny packs, puffy butts, and baby bumps, there's little wonder. You don't have to think too hard to hypothesize how they might've ended up that way.

But what if you're doing everything right? It's totally not fair. I restrict my carbs, eat fruits and veggies, and walk around the block. I know all about xenoestrogens. I avoid tap water, microwaved food, heated plastic, conventional cleaners, artificial scents, birth control pills, harsh solvents, industrial chemicals, non-stick cookware, and soy products.

And yet....

After creeping down slightly last fall, my weight shot back up, even past the record I had set before. This is not a record you want to keep breaking.

Mind you, I had never had a weight problem before. Even when I was eating all kinds of crap and lots of it, my face suffered (acne) and my periods were heavy, but at no point did I ever have a big tummy.

Then I got into school. Then I got into clinic. And then? Horror of horrors, we graduated and launched our own practice and Holy God. I stopped sleeping, started sneezing, and my belly swelled further.

Three months ago, my period came 2 weeks late. (You could practically set your watch by it before.) Then, I recently noticed I had to pee more and more often. I realized something was wrong when I had to pee a third time within 30 minutes. I kept trying to tally my trips to the little girl's room but by the end of the day I had gone so many times I had lost count. Yesterday was a bit milder than usual, clocking in at 8 restroom visits. And the other day? I realized my stream was narrowing. Yes, I had to try pushing Valsalva-style just to get all of it out in a timely manner. (When you're already infinitely en route back and forth between the bathroom and whatever it is you're trying to do otherwise, you want each trip to take as little time as possible.)

This might be TMI but I don't care, because it may help someone: when you're peeing and you push to try to pee harder/faster and nothing changes, Houston, you have a problem.

So I had an ultrasound done this morning. It's a lot like when you're pregnant, or so I've been told. You hop up on the table, tuck the towel in your pants, and loosen them. They rub the jelly on you and away you go. You get to see a black-and-white Doppler effect-like version of the inside of your abdomen in real time. Running the head across my skin, I saw shapes that didn't make sense (I wasn't trained on reading ultrasounds), but with just a little coaching, I could see them.

The biggest one is almost perfectly round. The others are more oblong. My left ovary is fine. The radiologist and his staff couldn't even see my right one.

Be prepared: If you have uterine fibroids or the symptoms thereof, they're going in, too. It's nothing like having a gyno exam, though - trust me, once you get the vaginal ultrasound head inserted, it's no big deal. Even when they start moving the head around. At first I thought, no way, no how, but I went with the flow and it was as close to a piece of cake as one can get with an ultrasond head shoved up inside. Pretty painless procedure, considering.

So I came out with answers. It's not my fault. It's nothing I did or didn't do. While it makes me feel better that I couldn't really have done anything different (I'm already doing almost all of what's on those "avoid estrogen dominance" lists), it also drives me crazy that even though I've been doing everything right, it still wasn't enough. It'd be easier if I was screwing up bigtime; by making a few simple changes, I'd probably improve substantially. If you've already made those changes and are still having massive problems, you don't have many options left and the investigation gets considerably more complicated.

The question becomes, where is it coming from? Is it a hidden source of estrogen? Off-gassing of car seats or other furniture/material in the heat? Secret line of hormones in my organic milk? Bug sprays around the apartment complex I have no control over? An adrenal gland response so intense as to proliferate such big masses in such a short time? My low thyroid? Something in the office? It's literally a needle in a haystack.

I went in with a fanny pack; I came out with an oversized uterus and 4 large fibroids. They've been there a while. I have options, none of which are simple. On paper, the least complicated option is a hysterectomy - it kills a lot of birds with one stone and it's quite the permanent solution. But I'm hissing and kicking against surgery. I don't want to have kids but I don't want to remove body parts, either. I've got to use them for 20 more years of proper hormone balance until my adrenal glands take over estrogen level maintenance (horrors!) and given my adrenal shape, I most certainly want to keep my female parts as long as possible.

I can do supplements, but that's not as easy as it looks. They don't work overnight, and several types could make the problem worse. Just because it doesn't need a prescription doesn't mean you don't have to exercise caution. Uterine artery embolization may sound like the best of all worlds but the procedure scares the pants off me. Cold laser would be uncharted territory but hey - I have nothing to lose except the fibroids themselves.

In case you're wondering which one Stewie is, it's the biggest one. (And I have to pee.)