2, not 3

It's been a rough day.

I didn't start it out thinking it would be.  I did wake up at 4:30am to walk Ansel back to his bed because he thought it was a totally reasonable hour to wake up and go play with his toys.  Then had some trouble falling back asleep.

But that's just a kind of mundane, minimal level of  "rough."  Like when someone says their day "sucked" because they had to park farther away from their work than they wanted to.  Or they ran out of milk.

I had an appointment at the endocrinologist.  It's been about a year since my last one.  Things were going fine.  I was consistent taking my medication and was able to stay on a relatively low dosage to get in a good zone on my bloodwork.  In and out in 15 minutes, max, I thought.

But today, we thought we should maybe do a follow-up ultrasound on my thyroid since it'd been almost 2 years since the last measurements.  Purely routine, of course.  Probably would show something good!

I remembered last time I did that.  I remember watching the screen as the physician would track little crosshairs to measure the size of one small and one, more worrying, large "toxic nodule".  This time, I lay there much longer and watched the crosshairs measure one, two, three, four, five, six, and a much, much larger seventh.  On both lobes this time.  I kept blinking quickly to try and stop my eyes from tearing up.

I sat in a chair as he wrote and wrote notes, finally looking up to talk to me about likelihoods of this or that worrying reason for such quick spread and growth, how it was unusual to see this in someone as young as me, a recommendation to biopsy, and then the repeated questions I've been asked at this office, but this time with a noticeably increased emphasis.

Do you have children?

Yes

How many?

2

Are you using hormonal contraception or an IUD?

No

Are you married?

Yes

Does your husband have a vasectomy?

No

Interlaced fingers and a pause.  Then hearing the thing I really did not want to hear about.  That yes, we had been doing well to control this over the last few years, but that with what we saw on the ultrasound, that it did not look hopeful that I would ever be in a place where I could stop taking that medication or ever be able to be pregnant, safely, for me or a fetus, ever ever again.  Never.  

I've tried, these last few years, to convince myself that we were done.  Mostly because I didn't want to have to go through today and feel any kind of loss.  To try and pre-emptively say "Well, whatever.  No biggie.  Wasn't the plan anyway."

But today I had to admit that it was the plan - it was what we wanted.  We had just been trying to convince ourselves that it wasn't.  And I'd been hoping and trying so hard these last few years to fix myself.  To take the medicine every day, at the same time every day like clockwork - the best patient of all - to will my body to just reverse course and fix itself.  And both of us thinking that maybe "something would just happen."  Not planned or on purpose.  No fault pregnancy.  And then we'd just deal with it and maybe the whole thyroid thing is getting better anyway.  It'd be fine...I'm sure...right?

I didn't want the reason we would always be a 2-kid family to be because a minor organ in my throat looks like a 75 year old's instead of the 36 year old's it should be.  That it would be my fault.  

My throat is really sore today.  The biopsy ended up consisting of having a needle go deep into my neck and stay there for too long, four times.  It was supposed to be five, but I had almost lost consciousness by the end of the procedure so they stopped.

Afterwards, I went to Arbys for an Andes mint ice cream shake - an "ice pack" for the inside of my throat while I kept another held to the outside.  And I sat in my garage in the car and cried.

I feel like I could have had another pregnancy in me.  I do.  I know I've been saying I was getting too old or that we just couldn't hack more all-nighters or that it would be too much money or that I needed to lose more weight first.  

It wouldn't have been as easy as when I was 30, but I could have done it.  We could have done it.  I'm very good at being pregnant.  I'm very good at breastfeeding.  After Ansel, I know I'm good at labor too.  It's something I've just...it's come naturally to me each time with no difficulties at all.  I've really loved pregnancy (I know I am the minority).  And I'm pretty good at being a good mom.  I could have done it.  We could have done it.  

Except I can't.  Now I really can't.

We'll have 2, not 3.  

I miss that third little one, more than I can bear.  I feel like part of my entire soul has been obliterated.

Operation Jab-for-Jill

FIRST, I cannot fully express how incredibly wonderfully fantastic a surprise it was for my mom to text us all this picture of her yesterday:

I just started yelling, "I'm so happy I'm so happy I'm so happy I'm so happy!!!!!!!"

Relatedly, my sisters and I have joined forces in what I'm calling "Operation Jab-for-Jill" tomorrow morning, when more immunization slots open up in my Grandma's health district.  We're coordinating a full assault on the website and phone lines right when they open up at 9am.  It's like trying to get Taylor Swift tickets, but, you know, more life-or-deathy... (..........) (...............................😐)

(Update: Operation Jab-for-Jill was successful!  Though it was VERY INTENSE!  All the slots filled up in fifteen minutes and the site kept kicking me out.  My sister was able to get through and locked one slot down before everything filled.  Whew!)

I Make Maps

 

Bless President Biden and the return of complete sentences and normalcy to government.  Now I can go back to old school blogging like I wanted to.

I was thinking this morning -- as I was trying to find a way to avoid transitioning to a new client because the transitioning part is always the hardest for me and I'll find lots of ways to procrastinate it -- how I never really know what to tell people when they ask about what I do at work.

Granted, that's assuming that anyone asks me that question at all.  Which is a whole different and long post in and of itself.

But if they do.  It's not easy.  I can't really use the terms my field uses because they don't mean anything outside of our little clique.  Solutions Engineer, GIS Analyst...   Might as well say "Hobnobsky Kerplunker."  

I was just remembering how it was only half as tricky in my former life as a professional Historian.  Granted, no one outside of my academic conferences had any idea what that practically meant in the day-to-day.  But everyone could understand the idea of History at least.  Most even could conjure up an image of a person in a tweed jacket, sitting by a fire in a library, reading all day long = Historian.  I mean, it's not really the actuality, but at least they could imagine something.  At least they kind of knew what history was.

My problem is that people can't even imagine anything at all when I say "GIS".  Even if I say all the words - Geographic Information Systems.  Nope.  That doesn't help.  So it becomes a choice of trying to define the complexities of an entire field of work that most people don't even know exists or is needed in the world... and then try to define what subset cog in that machine I actually try to be on the daily. 

So usually, I just say, "Oh, I make maps."

A complete cop-out.  I know.  But it's so much easier.  Though I do have to deal with a couple frequent reactions to this such as:

    1. The "That's Adorable.  Are you on Etsy?"  It-Must-Be-Her-Creative-Outlet" Reaction

    2. The "::blink blink:: Maps? Do they still make those?" Reaction (which then always gets my         follow-up "Oh, no.  I mean like Google Maps" response.  Which is still a cop-out but it makes that     person feel better).

    3. The No-Reaction-Change-Subject  (This one is most confusing.  I always feel like I said     something horribly offensive.)

Sometimes I try to get around the question by trying to describe a very specific project I'm working on at the moment.  

    "I am transitioning all of very-large-East-Coast-City's water and electric data into a new model that will allow them to visualize flow." ?

    "I am making an app that shows the managers at very-very-large-Airport some real-time maps and graphs for Lyft and Uber pick-up and drop-offs."?

    "I am helping a very small rural town in Virginia learn how to digitize their paper maps so they can be more efficient and modern."?

    "I am avoiding transitioning to a new client project because I am scared I won't know how to do it so instead I spent time blogging to prolong my suffering" ?

I'm not sure this is ever going to be a problem I solve, honestly.  I was going to hop on here and try to come up with some pithy, perfect, short description of GIS or being a Solutions Engineer and then say "taa daa" and move on with my life.  But I just sat here for two minutes trying to think of what that could be and I'm still at a loss.

I....I am a data analyst?  But specializing in data with a spatial component?  

I analyze spatial data with the goal of answering previously unanswered questions?

I analyze spatial data to answer questions that cannot be answered any other way?

I manage and analyze spatial data to provide the opportunity for answering and the answers to questions that are tied inextricably to location?

Ugh.  It all sounds so jargony and confusing.

...I make maps.

VP Harris and a Return to Decency

 

In two hours, we will have our first female Vice President.  Her last name is Harris.  Which is THE BEST.

And in two hours, we will have a new President.  One who does presidential things like this (above) - ceremonies mourning unnecessary loss of life.  Who has a cabinet of qualified people lined up.  Who knows how our government is constitutionally supposed to work.  Who is a decent person.  THANK GOODNESS.

I already feel the anxiety levels lowering.  

The last four years have been so exhausting.  And terrifying.  I will never understand anyone who tries to say that the Trump era was just "a difference of political opinion."  The lies and incompetence and cruelty were so obvious and blatant - almost daily I'd have to honestly ask Paul some version of, "How are they not seeing this?  How are people defending this?"  

It was also like watching our republican friends and family cling to a horribly abusive relationship.  So many, "He just has his moments" or "I'm sure that's not what he really meant" or "You just don't understand him" or "If people would stop attacking him then..."  or "I'm married to this.  I don't have a choice."

Girl.  Yes you do.  You deserve so much better. We all do.

So today I'm wearing my converse in honor of Kamala and streaming the White House's video channel.   I deeply, deeply hope that this is the last Wednesday in 2021 (so far Wednesdays have been bad) I feel like I have to watch the news.

P.S.  I FULLY bawled my eyes out almost-uncontrollably during the VP oath of office.

!!!

 My grandma told me she'd like me to help her get a vaccination appointment and I'm so happy about it!  It's made my whole 2020/2021!

What They Could

 "What did they do?"

"What they could."

-- Jojo Rabbit (2019)

One of the last movies I saw in a theater, before 2020 did its thing, was Jojo Rabbit.  If you haven't watched it, I'll say what I said a year ago: you should rent it tonight.  

There is a scene that has set itself on repeat in my head the last few weeks.  I literally cannot get it to leave me alone.  It goes like this: Johannes (Jojo) and his mother, Rosie, see people hanged, executed by the Nazis, in the town square.  When Jojo tries to look down to avoid the scene, Rosie pushes his chin back up so he has to face it.  When Jojo asks, "What did they do?"  Rosie simply says, "What they could."

It's important to me for two simple, forceful reasons.  

First, to remember that we never can let ourselves look away from something that is uncomfortable; to try and pretend that it has nothing to do with us or that it's too hard or that maybe if we pretend it isn't here it will go away.  We need to push our chins back up and face it straight on.  

And second, that, in facing something terrible, in doing the right thing, in trying to push back against some rising threat -- there is no guarantee at all that you will get a storybook or heroic ending.  No guarantee that even a single person will listen to you.  No guarantee that suddenly your efforts will inspire the world or your family or your friends or anyone.  That a lot of the time - I might even say, most of the time - doing the right thing will be lonely, at best.  At best.  And that often, the people doing small daily acts against wrong end up nameless and forgotten.  Nameless and ridiculed.  Nameless and executed.

Or, even harder to swallow, that those people end up nameless, forgotten, ridiculed, executed and they didn't even succeed.  

But "What did they do?"  "What they could."

Look.  I wonder a lot if I would have been part of the French Resistance - and I'm pretty definitely sure the answer is, "No."  

I had to hype myself up in front of a mirror before I called my republican grandma today to see if she wanted any help scheduling a Covid vaccine appointment online.  For half an hour afterwards my hands wouldn't stop shaking.  And I know that is, objectively, barely even micro-impactful.  There is a very big chance that it made absolutely no difference at all - that I "didn't even succeed."  But I needed to do something and that was the hardest thing I could think of that was even slightly possible for me to do.  I did "what I could."

The last week and a half, I've called Senators' and Representatives' offices every day at lunch to be a single tally mark on some aide's notebook paper.  There's a good chance that my messages get an eyeroll; maybe I'm a joke now.  There's a very big chance, here in Utah, that I will not even succeed.  But, I'd never called Representatives or Senators before and it sounded scary.  I woke up at 5:30 each morning so I could fit in the time to do it.  I did "what I could."

Yesterday, I sent handwritten thank you notes to the representatives that broke with their party to vote their conscience.  Big chance those are all going to be glanced at and recycled within 30 seconds of being opened.  Survey says they're not going to be the catalyst to some world-changing, feel-good, big movie montage.  But I tried to think of anything I might do to do "what I could."

For 10 months, we have paid attention to the Utah Health Department and CDC recommendations.  Followed the data.  Said no to (quite) a (disconcertingly) lot of invitations that don't fit our must-be-outside-and-spread-out understanding of what is safe.  Wear masks everywhere - even walking in the park.  Grocery shop once a week and that's all we do outside of school and work and our house.  More and more it's done not because I'm as afraid for our own health (though I still am), but because I just want to know that we did "what we could" to make things better, keep things safer, flatten that curve.  You know, not think we're an exception, to listen to what we've been asked to do.  Not be part of the problem.  

It's lonely.  And family and friends laugh at and shame us.  And the curve isn't flattening at all.  We "didn't even succeed."  So, if we're lower risk, why wouldn't we just say "Ah, whatever.  I'm bored and nothing is going to change, everyone else is breaking the rules, so let's go!"  

Because I want to be able to look at my kids when they ask, "What did you do during that time?" And I want to be able to honestly say, even when the things I have done don't seem to be changing anything, that we still did, "What we could."

COVID-19 in Utah

 

Because I wanted to know, I pulled data from CDC and IBIS-PH (Utah's Public Health Data) to visualize Covid-19 mortality over the last year and be able to mark clearly when it surpassed mortality rates for Utah's 1st (Heart Disease), 2nd (Cancer), and 8th (Suicide) highest causes of death.

I used the mortality data from IBIS-PH over the last 5 years to determine the average yearly counts for those causes of death for the state.  Then a simple calculation to see the number of people typically expected to die from those causes each week.  If you're curious, they are:

* Heart Disease: 3712 deaths per year, 71.4 per week

* Cancer: 3183 deaths per year, 61.2 per week

* Suicide 641 deaths per year, 12.3 per week

I graphed those values against weekly Covid-19 mortality counts.  

Since 4/20/2020, Utah has seen higher Covid mortality than expected suicide rates.  

Since 11/16/2020 (when the Governor called for a 2 week voluntary, firm lockdown via Emergency alert), Covid mortality has been higher than cancer.

Since 11/22/2020, it has been higher than the #1 cause of death in Utah, heart disease, less a short dip we had in December.

You can also see that not only is Covid-19 the highest cause of mortality in Utah right now, but by a considerable margin.  It has a 67% higher rate of mortality (119 deaths per week) than the highest cause of death in Utah for the last five years (71.4 deaths per week).  

It's not a surprise that today we received news that the more contagious variant of Covid-19 has been detected in Utah.  It's likely been here for a few weeks now.  But, what it does mean is that these numbers will continue to rise, now more than ever.  Especially with no lock-down mitigations in place, as we're seeing in Europe.  And we also know that this strain is affecting younger populations more than the previous strain.  Which...how to put this...is double bad.

Stay home.  Stay safe.  Get your vaccine as soon as you possibly can.

P.S.  For all those (mind-bogglingly misinformed) folks out there who keep screaming, "But it's just the fluuuuuu!" - I woke up this morning and added in Influenza for you.  It's the green line.  

Day 1 - again

 Day 1 of now only calling the Senators' offices in Utah and D.C. to support quick and clear conviction.

...

--The Economist, "Donald Trump's Reckoning", January 16, 2021 Edition

One Week Later

 

I truly did not want to be back here streaming the House of Representatives again.  But one week ago, terrorists made it a certainty.

I'd love it if I never wanted or needed to tune into CSPAN ever, ever again.  

(Addendum: Parliamentary procedure in actually is really calming to me, apparently.  So maybe I'll tune in again as a kind of meditative practice - just hoping it's never for such a horrifying reason again.)

(Addendum pursuant to the addendum: I'm crying?  Because I'm watching so many people with so many different accents and skin colors and genders and religions take part in this? It's a good and beautiful thing.)

(Addendum pursuant to the previous addendum: But I should note that so far, and I've been watching, every republican invoking house resolution 8 to announce the vote of a fellow caucus member...has been a white man.  The only melting pot I can see is on one side...  It's a more than a little disturbing.)

Day 5

 Day 5 of spending my lunch break eating leftover soup and calling as many Utah representatives as I can - both local and DC offices - to ask them to have a conscience and pressure Pence to invoke the 25th or be a leader in impeaching and removing/limiting Donald Trump.

This is my life now.  

Day 4

 Day 4 of calling every elected representative in Utah to call for Impeachment and Removal.

Terrorists

 

I've had enough of terrorists in my adult life.  

Worst of all are the American ones.  The ones tearing us up from inside.

Yesterday I turned on CSPAN to watch a congressional ceremony I didn't even know existed until this year.  It was supposed to be incredibly dull and rote.  Instead I watched terrorists take over the US Capitol.  Terrorists that were instructed and encouraged by the US president to attack another branch of our government.

If you try to do a pretty take on this, whitewash or "both sides" any part of it, don't expect anything from me except pity for your conned worldview and disgust for your twisted morality.

Thank you, Stacey Abrams.

 

Yay, Georgia, yay!

And I'm writing thank you letters tomorrow to everyone I can think of that made a difference by working so hard and stood up for the right thing even when twisted people screamed in their faces.  Stacey Abrams, Brad Raffensperger, Mitt Romney, my friend Jen in Georgia, the mayor of Savannah (who used to be a work acquaintance?  It's wild to hear him on NPR now.), John Curtis, seriously, anyone I can think of that showed character in the national spotlight.

Huh. Guess I've Done Some Stuff

 

I've been doing some extra consulting/contracting work for a local university the last few months.  I like the project more than anything, but the extra income is also helping us get closer to our (very long and expensive) list of some much-needed home repairs and upgrades.  The full plumbing replacement, for example...oof.

Anyway, so I was putting in a few hours last night and went from a couple iffy photos of a 100 year old map to an aerial image swipe app online for the client to use to check that the image was georeferenced correctly to aerial imagery.  In two hours.  

And I realized that, huh, I actually know how to do some stuff.  And in the past couple years at my recent job, it's taught me how to do even more and much faster.  

I guess what I'm saying is I was thinking about how...well...I'm an experienced professional now.  For realz.  And that was a cool thing to realize.

2021

 

2021.  What the heck will you be? I'm not going to even try to make any guesses this time.  I asked Paul if he had any goals this year.  He said, "Survive."  And he meant it.

The boys got to "stay up so late" on New Years Eve (in reality, they were in bed by 7:15).  To them it was a wild and crazy night where they got to eat a ton of pancakes for dinner, play board games after dinner (?? instead of just getting ready for bed???) and THEN watch a movie after that???  By the middle of Frozen, Hadrian kept dramatically sighing about how he was so tired and might just fall asleep sitting up, it was so late.    .... It was 6:30pm.    

See the trick was, we had dinner an hour and a half before we usually do.  They didn't get wise to it because the sun goes down so early.  Everyone won New Years Eve.

Then Paul and I got takeout from India Palace (India Palace is the only acceptable place to get Indian food in our family.  We are very loyal.  All you Bombay House fools can stuff it.) and pre-gamed for a family Zoom Game night of Among Us.

Among Us is a very fun game.  Especially when you're playing with my family. And I'll just leave it at that.  

Just a side note, but Hadrian is very amazing at building things in Minecraft.  Or just in general.  He discovers really fascinating and unexpected shapes for magnatile structures, for example.  Hard to describe.  Or he'll spend half an hour doing something in Minecraft and then show it to me - he'll have built a giant, very detailed shipwreck, for example.  Or today, a "rainbow castle" with six floors.  But the thing that's really impressive is he'll fly his little minecraft builder waaaaay way way up in the sky and look down to reveal huge, elaborate patterns radiating out from his buildings.  I honestly am not sure how he does it so quickly since he has to place each block at "ground level" and can't see the pattern from the sky as he builds.  I should take some screenshots to save.