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goddess of astronaut pants

the story so far...

scrawlings by...

fanfic by feldman


July 18th, 2015

Am I biased becausethassaliais an awesome playmate I love swinging around on the monkeybars keyboard with? Possibly.

Is my rec totally subjective because Thassalia wrote this for me, channeling pure plasma electricity like a lightning rod? Eh, perhaps.

It's also amazing, spot-on, complicated and hot, gorgeous and lush and makes me so glad I not only get to read her, but floored i get to write with her, and honored to get to spend time with her brains, beyond tasty and off into ambrosia.

There's a Dearth of Poetry About Spies (17758 words) by Thassalia
Chapters: 6/6
Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Clint Barton
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Post-Iron Man 3, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Spies, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Supposed to be a sex romp through Europe but it got away from me, Sex is totally a plot

"It’s truly a fantasy, and one she could spin, for him, but spies don’t work like that -- in breathless, charged teams. They need steady hands, even heart rates. And if she were somewhere she thought she’d get caught she’d just leave, or lie. Eliminate the threat one way or another."


Spycraft and control and letting someone peek behind the curtain...and monsters playing high-stakes hide and seek with their hearts.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/407545.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/407545.html?mode=reply

July 6th, 2015

thassalia and I wrote MCU fic. To be completely honest, I think this story rode the two of us like a possessing demon. I posted last night and then my brain exploded before I could link to it here.

Frog in a Blender (70287 words) by Thassalia, feldman
Chapters: 15/15
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Thor (Marvel), Maria Hill, Nick Fury
Additional Tags: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Red Room, Team Dynamics, Super Soldier Serum, Identity Issues

When she notices Banner's attention she doesn’t discourage it, because he lives a similar lie. Pretend this is safe, pretend he’s containable, pretend that unchecked aggression doesn’t tend toward slaughter. She can give him that much, as easily as letting him turn her foot over gently in his warm hands and build a hypothesis that she’d rather he left alone.

To console ourselves, we started on the sequel.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/407288.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/407288.html?mode=reply

July 1st, 2015

...or perhaps I just went insane and didn't notice.


Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/407033.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/407033.html?mode=reply

So that happened.

thassalia and I have written 65.5k words of MCU in the last 6 weeks.

It's now out for beta with the brilliant fbf .

We are taking 48 hours off at the behest of our SOs before diving into the sequel.

This is disturbingly difficult.

I also need an actual Natasha icon. Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/406637.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/406637.html?mode=reply

May 31st, 2015

...but I ended up writing fic with thassalia instead.  Which is really a best-case-scenario for me in general.  I keep returning to our Google Doc like a coke monkey pushing a button.  I made a playlist.

It's been a long time since I've felt fannish about something, though it has the old school X-Files feel of the "Yes, but--" response to canon.

I also started "Zombies, Run! 5k" this week (day two was today).  So it's been a strangely productive and joyous week for no reason that I can tell.

Perhaps the lesson is that I can be driven by both good and failed narratives. Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/406431.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/406431.html?mode=reply

March 29th, 2015

Spring Feining

So I signed up for Camp Nanowrimo, by way of a trial version of Scrivener that's good until May 8th.  It's like a cage match between my procrastination and my miserliness.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/405897.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/405897.html?mode=reply

March 27th, 2015

Oh, Chris Carter, no!

Though I have to say, if it weren't for X-files Classic, I possibly wouldn't have taken the charming footpath into the deep dark woods of fandom.

Still, they can never really scratch the itch, because I always wanted the a mytharc and I will only ever get a mythairball.

So I'll nostalgically link to the story I'm perversely most proud of from my baby ficwriter days, a case file in ten stanzas called Limerick.

"Our perp is a master of thuggee,
Who enters through doors made for doggies."
The slide show commenced
With blood-smeared evidence
Of cereal untouched and gone soggy.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/405738.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/405738.html?mode=reply

February 9th, 2015

Sentences three

Three Sentence Ficathon

Okay, so I wrote a little something.

Prompt: HIMYM, Marshall/Lily/Barney - they're protective, caring doms to his sub

The ache in his chest has been swelling for months, for trimesters, and he stands sullen before Little Fudge until he sways on his feet, until Big Fudge runs long fingers up the back of his head, presses them together to grip the hair, and with the pads at the tips forces him down to his knees with subtle pressure, scuffing his black lace-ups on the tilted wooden floor that's surely too cold for those tiny bare feet that are suddenly all he can see with his head bowed nearly into her lap.

She doesn't smell of hops and tobacco anymore, but of warm honied milk, wholesome and frightening like the slab of prairie towering behind him and gently shucking and tossing his suit jacket, and then she leans close with elbows on knees and sidles ink-stained fingers into the knot of his tie, heavy silk whispering away as a large hot hand cradles his throat and tips his head up into a kiss.

"Aww, now," she croons as he gasps, short-bitten nails twisting his nubbins like paint crusted caps off tubes of paint, "You'll always be our Goldilocks."

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/405042.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/405042.html?mode=reply

February 2nd, 2015

 I shoveled 16.5" of snow, in three sessions since last night,  totaling 3 hours.  This morning I was at it for 90 minutes, serenaded by the weather sirens.  I didn't clear our cars so much as carve them out of snow drifts like huge bars of Ivory soap.

I'd like to be cosseted in Tiger Balm and fuzzy blankets now, please. A toddy would also be lovely.

Alas, I am at work.  

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/404797.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/404797.html?mode=reply

January 25th, 2015

WIPman Sampler

From [personal profile] minim_calibre When you see this, share 3 random lines from 3 WIPs.

I'm enjoying the larger snippets posts people are putting up, so I went with excepts instead of stand-alone lines.  I also doubled down and sampled all six pots on the back burners.

I also apologize for length, but I've never been ale to figure out how to consistently make an effing cut-tag work.


~*~The Suburban Mythology - There are two sisters, a ghost, a nail-studded wish tree, guerilla knitters, elderly hippy cranks, and frankly this thing just won't resolve *or* die *or* stop giving me hives.

The kitchen was done in mushroom.
The full effect was stunning, as the high end appliances had been purchased at the tail end of when things were still built to last, and so the avocado finish had the patina of time.  The cabinets and linoleum were brown like beef gravy, and the backsplash behind the sink was well buffed copper peppered with hand painted tiles featuring vignettes of fungi that, while they lacked faces, were yet oddly anthropomorphic.

There was a braided rag rug, faded denim blue like a pond in a forest reflecting the sky, that was surprisingly soft on the soles of her feet.  Lena smoothed her foot along the edge.

"Ma made that when I was small." Hugh knuckled his glasses back up his nose.  "I think it feels so nice because she used old jeans her and dad had broken in for years, back before chemical pre-fading."

"I like the mushroom motif.  It's very earthy and foody while still rocking a penis theme.  Very masculine for a kitchen."
~*~The Dale Riordan Charitable Association - "Our aim is for weapons that are cheap, accurate, and require little training to deploy.  We reject the idea that sheep cannot become sheepdogs.  Our goal is sero-conversion until the morphotype reaches extinction."  [if vampirism was a parasitic infection, could you reverse it? then what?]
“Dale, these are predators, yes."  Constance used a slow blink to cover the roll of her eyes.  "But they are not cats.  Shiny is not the same as tactical.”  Dale was still terribly excited about the concept of a hive-minded swarm array of UV emitters, but like preparations A through G, the prototypes were turning out to be a huge pain in the ass.  “Despite their legal status, they retain a human learning curve.  We need it to work well enough right out the gate so that the next night, with the nest set of targets, it's still fresh and new.”
Constance chose not to remind Dale of the beta testing fiasco, when the swarm veered into the campus kitchens and threw Rajiv into a blind but effective panic.  Turned out Rajiv had mowed over a hornet nest as a teen.  He'd grabbed the crème brulee torch and in a trice half the prototypes were gone.    A highly useful beta test as far as Constance was concerned, but it still sickened Dale to learn just how many FTE hours of R&D could be defeated with a small household flamethrower.

 ~*~Bug - space Venice, the human diaspora returning to the cradle planet, the careful explosion of all previous tight controls

As always, full court regalia was a heat stroke waiting to happen.  Each robe was vermsilk thin enough to read through at dusk, but after eight layers and strategic padding it was more like a shell than a wrap.  Once the sashes were tied, Nifale lost the ability to bend at the waist. 
Now wrapped, she perched on the edge of a tall stool while her hands and face were painted with the formal look and the sigils of her station, and her short limp hair bolstered with hanks of tiny braids and a beaded snood.  Powered bikrel chitin shimmered on her cheekbones and forehead, and made her laquered fingernails look like the elytra that covered their folded hind wings.  She tried to forget that she was to witness an execution today. 
In contrast to her formal packaging, Messenger Shoi Wenthin Cand was dressed for heavy gardening, down to an iron dibble in his hand.  All of the Messengers wore heavy canvas pants and sturdy boots, shirts cut close to the body and short jackets embroidered with Her Most Serene's imprimateur.  Some carried wooden mallets.  After conferring with the others he came over to her little party of three with a smile that disturbed her as much as the rough implement in his manicured hand. 
"Ready then, Keeper Nifale?" 
"Travelling gives me vertigo." 
"Your robes alone will likely keep you standing."  In the sunlight his eyes took on a reddish cast, like fermented tea brewed strong. 


~*~The Sublimation Sublimation - [Big Bang Theory] Leave it to Sheldon to not just go into Pon Farr, but to broadcast it as well.
“Is it just me,” Bernie's whisper is thin and shiny like a gold foil star, “or does he remind you of Lo Pan?”
Howard nods as Leonard squints after the waiter, who'd disappeared into the reddish gloom of the Szechuan Palace. “Lo Pan?”
“The metaphysical antagonist of John Carpenter's 'Big Trouble in Little China', an ancient wizard cursed to roam the earth in ghost form until he sacrifices a green-eyed woman to get his physical life back. Despite there being a surfeit of such in California,” Sheldon gestures across the table at Penny with a precision-halved pocket of dumpling, “Lo Pan fixates on only two, and hijinks ensue.”
“While I found it dated and cheesy, it did hold my attention with unexpected flashes of eye candy.” Amy nods, “Such as a young Kurt Russel in a silk kimono.”
Bernie grins, “I prefer the scene with him tied to the wheelchair.”
Leonard glances at Howard before his better judgement kicks in, and though he's focused down on his shrimp with lobster sauce, Leonard reads more than he wants to in the rosy flush creeping up from his dicky to stain his ears.
Penny narrows her green eyes at Sheldon and drinks out of his teacup. “I'm more of a Snake Plissken gal, myself.”
Sheldon's lips disappear and he neatly deposits his dumpling half in the cup, sloshing tea over her knuckles. “Share and share alike, apparently.”
Penny fishes it out with her fingers and pops it into her mouth with a grin at his shudder.

~*~Dirt [Bones] post-ep for The Aliens in the Spaceship
For a brief moment in the choking sunlight Hodgins heard Angela call him by his first name as she brushed his face clean, her warm sweat scent like a secret underneath the scorched dust and lost perfume when she kissed him, and he felt like he'd reached goal in the worst game of tag ever.
That relief had snowballed into a shaking weakness that clung to him for hours in the emergency department, and still shivered in the wings when they stuck him up on a ward for observation.  So instead he'd gritted his teeth through a terrifying cab ride, fled back to the lab bench, pulled an extra stool over for his throbbing calf, and focused on something other than the paranoia and the persistent itch in his nostrils of ash and singe.
Which is where Angie turned up, mauling a teddy bear in anxious hands, earnest and open as if she hadn't tasted him sour from sedation and fear earlier that same day.  She came as a friend, sporting him crutch money and listening in that signature tender wry way that even Brennan could never remain taciturn in the face of.

~*~Veered Science - [Farscape] the last installment of the John Hughes AU, written with Thassalia
Pilot finishes keying in a command sequence as he offers an arm to help D'Argo onto the console. "I would ask you how school is coming, but I understand if you do not wish to talk."
D'Argo tucks his boots under his knees and rubs his face, speaking through the muffle of his hands. "I've got two papers in peer review right now, one of them for the second time. My loan from the Eidolon archive was approved, though it'll be a few monens before the samples arrive and they probably won't have what I'm looking for. My best friend hates me, but she'll likely be dead soon, in mind if not in body. My mom's an assassin, my dad's a sociopathic bastard who may or may not be sane, my sister is no longer glad to see me--and did I mention the boatload of soldiers on board?"
"I am aware of the last, yes." Pilot taps a key-plate without looking at it. "Moya and I are monitoring through the DRDs."
D'Argo leans back against a strut and digs grit from the corners of his eyes. "You were there, on that day, Pilot."
"Yes." He turns to access an array of plates on the other side of the console. "Moya and I were a part of that day."
D'Argo isn't sure how to ask; everyone aboard was complicit somehow, even himself in a way, his very existence a spur. But how much of it was inevitable, how much was planned, how much was simply a situation gone off the rails? "Did you know that my father would do that?"
For a long moment Pilot works his console, but finally he swivels back to D'Argo. "Moya and I have always preferred to run. We have no weapons and we choose not to have any. Except for that day."
"I know, but Pilot, could you have really stopped it?"
“You misunderstand. We had no wish to stop it. Moya provided the seed energy, an aborted starburst channeled through the trigger cage, which was shaped and aimed by your father."
D'Argo closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the madness of it. His chest is locked between breathes, barely able to squeeze out the word, "Why?"
"For cycles afterward, Moya and I expected to be decommissioned by the Builders. But perhaps they understood that there comes a time when you can no longer run."
Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/404633.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/404633.html?mode=reply

January 17th, 2015

 I'm not sure what it says about me, that even as a child,  my favorite part of the Star Wars Holiday Special was Bea Arthur.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/404247.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/404247.html?mode=reply

January 16th, 2015

Looked up some IT band and hip physical therapy hoodoo techniques on YouTube and drifted into ballet foot workout videos.  Not as bad as when I went tumbling down the rabbit hole and spent an evening watching cyst-popping clips, but at a certain level of flexibility the human foot starts to move like a deformed hand (which is delightfully creepy) and so I quit while I was ahead.

Also Mr. F came home, so it's a natural stopping point.

I did find some things to try on Mr. F's hip, which will hopefully help until we can get him into some real physical therapy.  Nerve flossing!  Pin and stretch techniques!  Massaging perpendicular to the muscle and connective fibers to provide shear forces!  How awesome to find videos that not only address the anatomy involved but also have captions of study references!

In other news, the kittens are fucking bonkers tonight.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403996.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403996.html?mode=reply

January 4th, 2015

 Sometimes we just want it to be worth the learning curve. 

I've updated my phone under protest, due to having to restart it thrice a day to force texts out of the buffer, usually once by pulling the battery.  If I didn't need it for work AND have the option of doing it roughly for free,  it wouldn't have happened. But I could upgrade and keep unlimited data on essentially two work phones,  so I bit the bullet.

I spent a good chunk of yesterday mucking through settings and menus,  installing my preferred software, pulling weeds off the home screens.  It's thin and light, but unwieldy for tiny hands.  I'm skipping a few generations of smartphone where they apparently interbred with tablets and fucking pinball machines. 

On the plus side,  this phone plays nice with the posting interface. 

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403878.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403878.html?mode=reply

November 23rd, 2014

Behind the cut are 15 reviews (L'Artisen Perfumeur, House of Gloi, Conjure Oils, BPAL).  All of these are available to go to other homes.  I have a swaplist, but I'm also open to suggestions and other offers, just let me know in the comments if you're interested in anything.

It"s time to ramble on...Collapse ) Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403355.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403355.html?mode=reply

November 11th, 2014

I've also started squatting in an empty office, which has a desk, a door, a bookshelf, and a lamp that looks like it came out of The Flintstones, but tasteful.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403002.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/403002.html?mode=reply

November 9th, 2014


 ~*~ Did the first week at the new location/position, which I think went well.  I'm a tad weirded out by the clear evidence I've jumped a few rungs up the socio-economic ladder with my new batch of co-workers--and as I'm not in a default support position, I'm being treated as a professional-class peer who's simply not yet obtained all her degrees.  It's...so odd.

~*~ Had a very brief bout of dizziness this morning, stemming from the other ear this time, but I did the head maneuvers and it cleared right up.

~*~ Wish I could just as easily treat the severely impacted wisdom tooth, which is testy due to clenching my jaw from nerves, but it's buried deep in bone and not going anywhere, so I can deal with the occasional pressure-ache.

~*~ Got my internet turned back on after having to let it lie fallow for a week, that's an exciting payday development.  Onward and upward, heave ho.

~*~ Going from retail type hours to standard office hours I've had some wicked REM rebound now that I'm sleeping regularly again.  The DST shift and being hip-deep in job training only exacerbate this.

~*~ The concept of NaNoWriMo shouldn't make me angry, I mean, there are a couple worse months it could be in, like February.  It's not really a plot against those of us prone to hibernation.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/402831.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/402831.html?mode=reply

October 31st, 2014

Adios old job, aloha new job

 I was not expecting the weird hash of sadness, benediction, congratulation and I'm-joking-but-35%-serious abandonment issues that my last few days at the old position stirred up among my co-workers and supervisors.

As someone who has ended jobs in a variety of ways*, this one was new and quite touching.

I have also procured a starter set of dress pants to conform to the higher office clothes standard.  Five pairs of pants and a set of dressier flats for less than forty bucks, shopping at the Salvation Army in the better part of town.  While there's truth to the need to spend money to make money, I'm ramping it up slowly.  Luckily it's fall, so the sweaters will see me through until I can rebuild a professional wardrobe.

* 1. not showing up for three days (undiagnosed seasonal depression)  2. standard 2-4 week notice with optional potluck farewell  3. being escorted out of the building (bitter merger; I went to a competitor two days later)  4. flaming 20 minute tirade against horrible manager (in retail, mere days before x-mas, at a job I'd left peaceably months before but came back on school break to help for the shopping season) 5. silently walking away while being yelled at "are you coming back on Monday?!" (hint: this was her third strike in treating me terribly, so no, I was not coming back on any day).
Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/402634.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/402634.html?mode=reply

October 24th, 2014

Cocoa has the face of a startled incredulous owl, and she keeps trying to gnaw on the pumpkin stem.  Ginger is rangy like a baby giraffe or Tommy Tune, and he slept on my neck last night.  Their current favorite toy is a small flat flying squirrel with crinkle inside and a fur tail.  We've named the toy Moisty.
two sleepy kittens

They have a great relationship of chasing, playing, napping, mutual grooming and wrestling, and they seem to be quite happy to share a house with three snuggly apes. Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/402260.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/402260.html?mode=reply

October 20th, 2014

ST:TOS: Human societies will have a perennial dialogue about gender and the performance thereof, and much like the manly silk breeches of long ago, in the Federation future the smoky upper eyelid is coded as a masculine look for men of authority.  And Kirk is kinda bummed that he really doesn't have the brow arch to pull it off.

HP: After the war, after her failed political career, after her more successful efforts in social justice reforms, Hermione Granger finally writes the book that's been fermenting in the back of her head for sixty years--a tour de force treatise on the traditions and power of naming in magical culture.  It's chockablock with arithmetical equations, history, case studies, anthropology and statistical analyses, and it's the most dangerous and least read book in centuries.  To the rare mind that can grok it, it confers a knowledge that cracks the world wide open, but it's denser than Hagrid's rum raisin scones the time he mistook quickrete for bisquick.

MCU: In IM1 Pepper Potts does not get the fucking dry cleaning, she has staff who accomplish the hands-on tasks while she is the sole face Tony has to deal with in his own house.  The cheese plate Tony snacks on in IM3 is, if not the handiwork of a personal chef, likely gathered from a selection pantry and fridge items curated by one.  Jarvis can hack real-time aeronautical dogfights*, and does wicked data analysis, but cannot be trusted to grocery shop beyond restocking staples.

*By cheating with an elegant near-synesthetic tactile/haptic interface that outsources them from Tony's cerebellum.  Because Tony is the kind of guy who, when he drives, extends his personal sensorium out to the fenders and tires, and tracks the other cars like clubs being juggled.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401961.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401961.html?mode=reply

October 19th, 2014

 Since my last update I've adopted two kittens and gotten a promotion.  Neither of which I've had since the early nineties, now that I think about it--the cats we got then lived sixteen and twenty years respectively, and every positive career move in the interim has been me changing companies (sometimes with extreme prejudice) to move upward.

I'm not sure how to process the fact that I've been at this company for almost a year, and am now being actively recruited upward internally.  I've been doing a major project alongside some big wigs, accreditation stuff where we're tinkering with policies and merging two companies into a statewide entity of a national company, and when I put it in those terms it sounds more impressive than my part has been, but I can still swim the current and that's been a good thing to demonstrate.

The new position starts in November, with leadership potential, a delightful pay rise, and stable hours where I can go back to the gym again.  It marks the first time in four years I won't be unemployed, underemployed or doing some kind of temp gig I can't see a future at.  It's...weird, actually, to be appreciated with not just more work but an old-fashioned promotion with a new title and a real paycheck.

The kittens are still unnamed, a blond tabby boy who's sweet and pliable and outgoing, and a dark tortoiseshell girl with bright owl eyes and the dangerous diffidence of a ninja; brother and sister.  Personality-wise they are the April Ludgate and Andy Dwyer of cats.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401679.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401679.html?mode=reply

September 21st, 2014

Rocks fall, feldman vomits

I sometimes rib Mr. F about the tricksiness of his back injury.  When he's up for it, he can help carry a couch, but has also been known to throw his back out toweling off after a shower.

Rotational forces are wicked.

I rolled over in bed this morning and the bed started rolling me like a hungry crocodile.  I'd likely dislodged otolith gravel in my right ear.  Hence, I spent the day keeping my head very still so as not to inadvertently hit the big red vagal VOMIT button.

Bad news: there's a correlation between getting migraines and getting this kind of vertigo.  Age of onset is usually in your 50's, but for migraineurs it's around age 40.  And flipping in bed is  common rotational move that can trigger it.

Fucking rotational forces.

Good news: This maneuver helped get the rocks back into the proper place in my ear.  Go Dr. Carol Foster!!!  Harnessing rotational forces!

Of course, the first few times I did it, the last move totally punched the big red button.  But I've done it three more times so far and the vertigo gets better each time.

Rocks fall; rocks have a strange twisty journey; rocks come back home.

Yay women scientists!  Yay internets!

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401538.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401538.html?mode=reply

September 2nd, 2014

So the plus side of my medications is that Bactrim so far has not totally nuked my gut or given me any weird taste in my mouth.  Pyridium, which is the little brown pill that makes your pee orange and keeps you from howling when you pee with a UTI?  Gives your urine amazing analgesic properties, which extend all the way up to where the lemonade is made.

I'm saving my last three pills for when I go back to work tomorrow, and it turns out the bareback ache is hotter and more sore than I thought it was when riding the orange dragon.  I have a follow-up with my doc Thursday.  

I also put on the big girl underpants and got a deferment on my student loans.  Now I'm going to work from home for a half hour to turn in my timesheets.  After that I fancy a spot of painkillers and drooling on the couch.

Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401406.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401406.html?mode=reply

September 1st, 2014

Around one in the afternoon on Thursday I stretched a little back and forth, pulled my shoulder blades back and down, and tried to ease what I thought was a muscle strain in my mid back.

At nine that night I sat cross-legged on a gurney in the corridor outside of radiology, patiently waiting my turn with the frail and the unlucky, and I thought to myself, "Well this isn't where I expected the evening to go."  Then I got another bout of renal colic and grabbed the side rails behind me, only able to produce a gasp and squeak as I felt shivved up under the left ribs.

I got to an 8 on the pain scale.  Keep in mind that my 9 is an orgasm-triggered thunderclap migraine, and my 10 is manual stretching of the cervix during a contraction during unmedicated labor.  My 7 is breaking a bone in my foot.  I can attest that if you stabbed someone in the kidney, I can totally buy that they might seize up and then bleed out before they could muster a peep.

Eventually I had my turn riding the suggestive sled in and out (and in and out) of the suggestive doughnut that is a computed tomography machine.  I always ask for a copy of any imaging.  If I could, I'd prepay my own autopsy if I could somehow watch.  Lest I get too involved in the quirks and deviations of my own anatomy, the ER doc assured me that my viscera "are perfect".  I blush, and cringe backward through another smooth muscle spasm in an organ I normally don't consciously feel.  But I'm in my early forties and have no stones in any of the secret pockets and pouches of my torso, so that's kind of a win in itself.

I do have a kidney infection, caught early enough to avoid hospitalization, which is really the best possible outcome for the symptoms.  Once the medications kicked in the slicing cramp backed off into a dull warm ache.  Four days later it feels like a sinus infection, tucked under the back of my left ribs, but today  I finally got through a day without napping twice for hours at a time.
Originally posted at http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401111.html * reply http://handypolymath.dreamwidth.org/401111.html?mode=reply
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