Shelby Cass’s Weblog

Here I am, luxuriating (read: flopped and propped) on my chaise lounge, post-op.  It’s like deja-vu, but not really.  This surgery was on a body part well below my neck and not, I believe, a contributer to sleep apnea.  Although, I did hypothesize to my surgeon that the reason none of my previous forays into this particular body part repair in essence failed previously was due to the fact that I did not breathe at night, hence had greatly diminished my healing power, and he agreed there was a high likelihood I was right.  I love being right…or even people suspecting I am right.  It just feels so…RIGHT. But I digress as usual. Please do keep in mind surgery was this morning so I’m still in the “don’t operate heavy machinery” zone - which is why I am using a laptop! (ba-dum-bum)

What was it this time?  (Believe me, I heard that question plenty) Alas, it is my knee.  The left one.  But I’m already doing 50% weight bearing (as in 50% of my body weight) and little knee bends (per doctor’s instructions!  I promise I’m not jumping the recovery gun!).  How did this happen?  Well there’s really no easy answer.  Let’s go back in time a few years, shall we?

December 1983.  Or maybe go back even further to my birth.  This story is already too long.  I’ll put it in timeline fashion.

Birth: I was born “toeing in” and wore a Denis-Browne splint to turn my feet/legs/hips out.

Not sure if it was tibial or femoral, but nonetheless, I got to wear a lovely pair of shoes attached to a big blue bar.  I don’t remember this.  I do remember my brother also got to wear one.  Not my sister, lucky duck.  It is hereditary and my mom actually had casts on her legs to correct hers.  Now I don’t know if this contributed to my knee issues, but I figured I’d mention it.

Age 4: Enter the world of ballet.  It’s possible Mom put me in ballet just to help with the pidgeon toed swayed back pot belly thing, but the main point is that I LOVED ballet and I was evidently pretty good.

Age 6 (I think): I was accepted into the San Francisco School of Ballet on scholarship, and by age 7 I think I was dancing in the professional level.  I got paid (I think it covered bridge toll–this was not the lottery) to perform in various ballets, the primary one being, of course The Nutcracker.

Age 10: One of my parts was as the tail end of the Chinese dragon in Act II.  Imagine 5 girls harnessed together under a big dragon costume with only their legs showing.  It’s a short piece, but the guy playing the Chinese Dragon Tamer found himself in a little bit of a pickle when he vaulted himself up onto his pole (he would do cartwheels using the pole instead of his hands if that makes sense) and found his landing spot was either the dragon or the orchesta pit.  He chose the tail end of the dragon (aka: me) and since I couldn’t see more than the girl in front of me, I had no idea what was coming.  Boom!  Splat.  The costume even came up for a moment and I saw a guy in the front row laughing (not mean laughing but probably surprise that the dude landed on the dragon).  ER visit that night, back to performing almost immediately.  Years of PT and chiropractics.

Age 14: Lots of factors contributed  to my leaving ballet, but a big one was that I was watching more classes than I was taking due to knee pain.

I love this picture of the last full length ballet I was in.  Check out the knee brace AND band-aid.  My mom was so mad that I hadn’t thought to take them off before the shoot!

Age 18: Left knee surgery.  PT rocked me back into recreational ballet shape.  I think I would have been good to go.

Age 19: Car accident.  Woman ran a red light and hit me while I was turning Left across an  intersection with a green arrow.  Hit right knee on steering wheel.  College student = no money so no treatment until knee started locking and I started falling.  It was actually kind of funny except for the horrible sudden pain.  I mean, how many 19 year old girls do you see falling out of cars when they are trying to exit when they are NOT drunk?

Age 22: Right knee surgery.  (Doc found pieces of cartilage hanging out in joint, one was the size of a quarter - it had been growing for 3 years. I believe the limping and falling thing was probably what tore the Left knee up again.  No PT (recent college grad also = no $), which resulted in bad knee tracking which led to shredding the cartilage up.

~Age 26: After trying to take Tai Chi and asking my instructor: Is this walk supposed to hurt?  Right knee surgery.  Doc said it looked like “shredded crab meat” on back of knee.  It’s supposed to be smooth like a cue ball.

~Age 26 6 weeks later: Left knee surgery.  Doc found the back of this knee fractured from stress.  When I woke up he said “Well, it wasn’t in your head, it was in your knee!  It was broken!”  6+ months of PT and they still couldn’t get me pain free.  This was when I started REALLY slipping downhill health-wise and still had absolutely no idea that I had Obstructive Sleep Apnea.  I think a couple years earlier I’d started getting “treatment” (read: Ambien) for insomnia.  And as we all know, you don’t give people with untreated sleep apnea sleeping pills.  Almost immediate disintegration of knees Rice Krispy syndrome I call it).

2005: Started Adult Ballet Classes for exercise - no center, just barre.  Painful, but no more than stairs so I stuck with it.

2006: MMA/GA (The BIG Sleep Apnea surgery)

2007: WHAT THE–I went RUNNING!  My knees were actually beginning to HEAL!

2008: UPPP (The small yet ever so painful Sleep Apnea surgery)

2009: Started ballet again.  *joy*  Not professional - nowhere near.  Just a little (yes, sometimes painful and definitely crackly when I bent, but happy) barre work in the Adult Class, but by July I was Jumping.  Unfortunately that also led to falling (with style!…and embarrassment) but I recovered and was back in class (sans jumping) the next week.

November 2009: The infamous Ridge Hike on Oahu.  The trail looked like this:

The Trail - uh, what?

I was told it was a 2 hour hike.  Yeah, 2 hours…ONE WAY.  It probably wouldn’t have ended the way it did, except the group I was with was JETTING up the mountain.  Way too fast-paced for someone with problems stepping UP.  And if you know anything about patellar knee pain, then you know that down hill is worse than uphill.  At 1 hour 45 minutes I was in way too much pain and kinda figured out (yeah I’m slow) that this wasn’t ending anytime soon.  I had to turn around and go back (using poor Courtland as my crutch).  From that incident, I never recovered and stairs became a thing of the past.  Also, squatting (which I do frequently when adjusting chairs and evaluating people for my work) became excruciating no matter how much I stuck my bottom out.  It was time to see the doc again.

2010: Stanford. X-Rays.  MRI’s.

Today: Left knee surgery.  I’ll post those pics later (don’t worry, not gross IMO).

Next Tuesday: Post-Op and PT.

I’m hoping my hypothesis holds water!  And I’m also REALLY hoping my right knee doesn’t take a big dump (it didn’t look as bad on the MRI so we’re going to try just PT instead of surgery) and fracture like last time!

Okay that was maybe my longest post ever.  Smac Out.

Here are Days 1-4 on Flickr.  http://www.flickr.com/photos/20359758@N06/sets/

I’ll get the rest up again once I sort out the .Mac MobileMe thing stuff a ma jig.

…when shall they two meet again…

Thursday was spent on the road.  All day.  Driving.  Well, I stopped to get out of the car in 1 hour incriments (1 hour evaluation in Los Gatos, 1 hour lunch with Max in Milpitis, 1 hour evaluation in Sunnyvale and 1 hour in the chair with my fave cheek spreaders at Orthodontist’ office).  I left home at 9am and got home-ish (stopped at Safeway) at 5.  Only 2 billable hours for that day, and sad sad news for my back molars.

You know how last time I was at the ortho I complained that my back teeth weren’t touching and after many many bite and grinds on the carbon paper the ortho feedback was: it’s just one spot, we can build the tooth up?  THEN when I went to Dr. Steve my DDS he said Uh no, those teeth are nowhere near touching and we can’t build a tooth up that high?  Remember?  I do.  I remember wondering why my ortho would lie to me…or deceive me…also wondered if she was blind.  Well, I wore that newfangled bottom retainer every day and night for months to fill in my gaps, and I went in for my follow up hoping for either good news or an acknowledgement of oversight.  There I was, sitting in the chair doling out ergo advice to the techs (have you ever seen an ergo friendly ortho exam room?) and here comes Dr. Quo.  She’s so cute.  But I reminded myself I was not going to be overpowered by her charms.  I was going to get to the bottom of this life of chewing on only one side.

She looked in my mouth, checked out how my retainers fit, and AGAIN said I needed just one spot addressed to get contact on the back left side.  She (like last time) noted there was a filling in that back bottom molar and that perhaps someday when I got that filling replaced they could build up the composite, but I had already asked Dr. Steve about that and he didn’t think my filling needed replacing for many years.  I was not willing to wait many years.  There was much ahhhing and oh yesing as I explained how horrible life was with the inability to make it even (do you make it even?  I like to chew things equally on both sides…don’t judge me.).  Dr Quo suggested a “turbo”.  A turbo is when they build up many many layers of composite on a tooth to essentially build the tooth up.  I had one before during the post-op my teeth are strangers phase.  So the cheek spreaders were again applied had I known they were coming I would have taken pix (because everyone needs their vanity taken down 1800 notches) and  a lump of composite was deposited onto the top of my bottom left molar.  Then Dr. Quo drilled and drilled and I chomp chomp grinded on the contact paper and she drilled more until I felt pretty even contact back there…                    oh but not quite.  DOH!

I asked to see a mirror and looked in my mouth and lo and behold there was still a very large gap between back top and back bottom molars (see pic from last entry).  My head did not spin, but my mind reeled as I wondered how on EARTH can she be talking to me about these teeth meeting when they clearly are not and are never at this rate going to?!?!  I asked, “So, that gap back there between the back two molars…”  and she interjected.  “Oh.  No.  Those will probably never meet.  After moving your jaw, that’s just how your teeth want to be.”  (Stupid willful teeth)  So evidently she knew long ago that those teeth would never meet and so didn’t talk about them anymore.  When she talked about teeth meeting, she was talking about the second to last molar on the top and the back molar on the bottom.  That 3 decade love afair between top and bottom back molars has come to an end.  And there you have it.  A tale.  Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury.  Signifying nothing.

Blarg.

Here we are again, talking about my teeth.  Really the only annoying ongoing problem post MMA (aside from the numbness, but that’s not really too annoying).  Why a problem?  Well, I personally like symmetry.  I like to chew my food equally on both sides.  If I have M&Ms or something small like that, I eat 2 at a time.  One for each side.  Symmetry, OCD, call it what you will, I prefer to chew that way…and since my surgery, that has not been able to happen.  grr.  argh.

When I first got my braces off I commented on the unequal feeling back in molar-land, and my ortho said my teeth would likely still move a little and not to worry.  So I didn’t.  But it’s been awhile now.  A too long while for me to be satisfied…and so I angst my irk here.  For you.

Here’s where I am in orthodontia: The retainer they gave me for the bottom had hooks that looped over my teeth to hold it in place.  Those hooks, unfortunately, started pushing my teeth apart and I got little gaps.

I’ve already been wearing the new retainer to correct that for a couple weeks so the gaps are not as pronounced.  In case you can’t see it in these pix, it’s where the bubble of spit is on the left picture (so rad, I know). :)  sorry.  In other words, the gaps occured between the teeth that some would call canines (though mine be none so pointy anymore) and the first molar-y looking ones.  What did you want me to say?  Eye tooth and first bicuspid?  Okay I said it.

So they made me a new retainer.  This one actually encases all of my bottom teeth within one piece of plastic with springs to pull the teeth back together.

While I was in getting this retainer, I commented (again) how my back teeth didn’t touch on the left side.  Once again the little pieces of carbon paper were inserted and once again I was instructed to chomp chomp chomp and grind…and I was assured that I was crazy (okay she didn’t say crazy)  and that my teeth did touch.  I also mentioned the numbness I am still experiencing in my gums and teeth, and then that was blamed for my crooked feeling.  But I know that’s not true.  I mean, yes, I am crazy…but no, my teeth do not touch at all evenly on the back left.  Here, judge for yourself and tell me how the carbon paper touched…I’m pretty sure it didn’t.

I went to see hottie Dr Steve my dentist (he looks like my boyfriend and has a Shelby of his own) who was about to do the carbon paper thing for me (I felt he was unbiased but skilled in the carbon paper test) when he put the cute little dentist mirror back there and said, “Uh Shelby, I don’t need carbon paper.  Those teeth don’t touch.”  SEE!  Told you!!!  So I’m feeling miffed…but I do have to say that I didn’t peek back there before getting the new retainer so things may have changed.  HOWEVER: they do not feel different.  So I think this is how it has looked all along and I am … irritated?  Yes, that.

But from the front all looks good, and maybe that’s all people really care about (unless they are me and craving a meetup between upper and lower molars).

ta-da  (Just don’t try to chew on that back left side)

I’m also experiencing a little clickity clickity in the right jaw joint which I think is occuring because I chew everything on the right and non-purposely try to make the left molars touch by moving my jaws around (which doesn’t work, but for some reason I notice sometimes I am doing it and I stop when I notice, but still…it happens).

Okay have I ranted enough?

Here’s a little non-ranting story:  Dr. Steve wanted to make sure I was flossing and I told him I have a huge bag of those pre-flossed picks and I floss while I am driving.  He broke in and said “I’m glad you’re flossing but I can’t condone practicing oral hygeine and driving…”  I said, “I don’t look in the mirror or anything and he said “Oh…” and then I thought, did he think I was driving with my mouth open, chin back, and eyes on the rearview mirror peering into  my mouth?  I suppose I could have been.  But no, I just kind of mindlessly use that little pick thing… Geeze, now I feel like a bad driver…but I swear I’m not distracted!  I think I’m more distracted putting on chapstick (and no I don’t look for that either).  I’ll stop now before the non-ranting story turns into a rant.  Wouldn’t want that.

Next entry we’ll talk numbness.  Everyone’s favorite subject.

I know you missed them.

http://web.me.com/cidstrom/Sleep_Apnea_Surgery/Day_1.html

It’s been 2 years and 2 months since my surgery.  Absolutely amazing.  Just looking back at these pictures it’s extraordinary where I was and where I am now.  I feel like I got the gift of life…  I’m not a different person.  I’m still the same old Shelby.  But I think I am the better non-sick version and that is something I didn’t even know was going to happen going into this.  I just thought I wouldn’t look like Gonzo at night anymore.

As I write this I am at my sister’s house in Dublin (no, not Ireland) taking care of her two kids for a week…more than a week actually.  I moved in on Thursday afternoon (it’s Wednesday night right now), they left Friday night, and will be home (from Belize) this coming Saturday night after midnight.  In a million years I could not have imagined taking care of a 3 1/2 year old and a 15 month old for a week+ on my own…I couldn’t imagine having kids of my own would be really all that possible with how crappy my immune system was and how tired I was even on my best day.

Now, I’m not signing up for the baby wagon just yet.  I think my clock is unplugged or on mute, and that’s just fine.  I mean, after all, I just started sleeping.  Why would I voluntarily give that benefit away so soon?  I hear it takes a long time to make up sleep debt…and I have a lot of it.  Sweet, sweet sleep.  I owe, I owe, so off to sleep I go!  However, big drawback to finding out what a good night’s rest REALLY is?  Take any of that away and I am a GRUMPMEISTER!  Steer clear of the modern-day sleep-deprived Shelby.  Now she KNOWS it could be better…and you will PAY! 

Sleep well!

smac

Ringing in 2009 at a big fat whopping 158 pounds, I am far from my goal of 135, but definitely working on it.  I start with this line because it’s a lot of what I think about.  Since the last surgery I have been doing wonderfully, except recently I have been sleeping over 12 hours a night and dark circles are making a comeback under my eyes.  It’s worrysome, and today on our way home from Novato (where we had lunch with my old friend Brad - Hi Brad!) I started nodding behind the wheel.  After 12 hours of sleep, a taco salad and 2 cups of coffee, that shouldn’t happen…so I am scared and sad…And have been on a 1200 calorie low carb diet since December 15 with only 4 pounds off to show for it (I know you’re supposed to lose it slow to keep it off, but I would still like to wake up with curves in the right places…overnight weight loss would be fine by me!).  Grr.  Depresso entry.  Sorry.  We also picked up badminton again after my sprained ankle, and as soon as my freaking hammer squished finger heals, I will get back into yoga and light weights.

Here’s something awesome: When I was in ballet, oh so many years ago, I had a best friend at SFB.  Her name was Britta.  I called her Brit-Brit.  She called me Shelb-Shelb.  She lived in Daly City, so her family let me stay with them whenever I could (mostly summers and Nutcracker season, but many Fridays as well since we always had class on Saturday).  Britta and I lost touch when I left the school to go to high school (the ballet school told me I had to consider “home schooling” going into the next level which I thought meant I was going to be dumb and not go to college so I chose school), but her mom always remembered me and tracked me down right before Britta got married about 5 years ago.  I was invited to be a surprise guest…I was SO EXCITED.  So excited that even though the day of her wedding was the same day I was released from the hospital with kidney stones still partying in my urinary tract, I wanted to go.  David and Courtland had to very sternly tell me I was INSANE and sat with me while I tearfully called the hotel and left a message for Britta’s mom that I would not be attending.

Fast forward 5 years and I still had not seen Britta.  She and her husband lived in the Caribbean and until two years ago we hadn’t even spoken on the phone.  When we finally spoke on the phone, they had just moved back to Daly City and I was just about to have my MMA.  We again lost touch until December 7 when Britta was going through her mom’s address book looking for people to invite to her mom’s surprise birthday party and found my number.  I was invited to the party and 3 days later got to see the whole family again.  It was awesome.  Amazing.  Britta looked the same and we just picked up where we left off…it was just NICE.  So comfortable and nice.  AND Britta has a goal.  She wants to lose some weight and take a ballet class.  It’s funny how people can travel through life, taking different paths here and there, changing little bits about themselves, yet still be, for lack of a better vocabulary, the same.  You know what I mean.  Not the same person…a richer person who knows more and has been through lilfe-shaping things…but a person who even today, if we met brand new, might still end up being a good friend.  Those ones are hard to find.  And you can bet your bottom that she and I will reach our goals and start taking a ballet class from Zoltan (another story) together.  (By the way, Britta has a cat she named Shelby - teehee *big grin*)

So this year has been great.  I know lots of stuff has happened, but everything has had a positive outcome…as in, I believe I am better off today than I was one year ago…and I aim to keep that trend going.  Tonight Nicholas is coming over and we will very mellow-ly watch tons of Psych and if we’re up at 12 we will all three pour bubbly stuff into glasses, clink them together and wish each other a very Happy New Year.  Which it will be.  I have creed.

Happy New Year to you ALL!

xoxo

Shelby

Holy cow and a half!  Okay it’s been a while.  Since I last wrote I have gained weight (ankle fail), hired a professional organizer (consequently got a horrible upper respiratory cold due to *cough* dust *cough* - but kept on breathing), took a mini vacay to Half Moon Bay with step mom Anne, was spontaneously invited and spontaneously accepted trip to Hawaii for a week before Thanksgiving, had two Thanksgiving dinners (=more weight most likely), skipped out on the NECE in Vegas going on right now (National Ergonomics Conference and Exposition), and put Mochi kitty on a diet.  I’m sure there are more things that happened, but those are the highlights…now let us look at the breathing part of those highlights.  Did you notice?  If ANYTHING was going to test the efficacy of the last roto-rootering of my throat, it was that cold.  Dr. Li for the win!  Party on Wayne!

Oh.  I also had a birthday.  12th Annual 24th.  I had my party at Caprino’s down the street.  There were over 40 people in attendance and I had an absolute ball.  I even hooked up with a cake gal and got myself (in addition to a wonderful raved-about opera cake) a special Shelby cake.

I have now spent about an hour trying to upload photos.  Mood = bad.  Need heat (thought I turned it on–evidently not enough) and food.  TBC.  Sorry!

Left you hanging…as usual.  It’s not that I didn’t think of you all the time, but as time went on, more and more things were added to my mental list of “things to blog” and of course that resulted in overwhelming myself into silence.  Well, I’m sure you are all used to that by now.  So where were we?

Last we spoke I was on my way to the MMA “Reunion”…which is not right.  Reunion implies we had met before.  So…it was the MMA (Maxillo Mandibular Advancement, not Mixed Martial Arts) gathering.  And it was rad.  Met all sorts of cool people and put faces to names of other cool people.  All in all a wonderful day and someday I will post pictures.  Isn’t it enough I’m writing? 

The day after that, my frog died.  Slider, aka Sticky-E (his street name) passed away and I was sad sad sad.  I was so sad and upset that my squeamish better half offered to remove Sticky-E’s remains so that I wouldn’t have to.  Pretty serious.  And I know…it’s just a frog.  But I liked him.  No frogs legs jokes here (believe me I’ve heard them all).  That night I cleaned the terrarium and every morning since then I have walked out of my bedroom and felt a very big THUMP of guilt when I see the empty cage.  Yes…GUILT.  I think I killed him.  I mean, my only job was to keep him alive and I only managed to do that for 5 years.  These guys are supposed to live on average 10.  I am not a model frog owner.  He was sometimes hungry.  His cage was not cleaned as frequently as it should have been.  He did always have water…but you know, I could have done better.  I guess I also could have done worse.  But that was the end, I think, of my frog-owning days.  Now I am cats and gecko mom.

Synopsis of lately things: sprained my ankle last Friday.  Lovely.  But AWESOME NEWS:  It is healing like a CHARM!!!  I sprained my ankle 5 years ago when I was mis-diagnosed with narcolepsy and it took 8 MONTHS in a walking cast to heal.  Same ankle, same inversion sprain…and I’m thrilled with the progress.  Of course no badminton for a while, and yoga is on hold (I see the fat cells rallying) but ever since my MMA surgery I heal faster and on top of that, actually don’t get hurt/sick as much at all.  A credit to oxygen and sleep.  Hooray!  I’m a fan.

Bad news (and maybe someone of doctor knowledge can help here):  My nausea and vomiting is back.  I notice now a very metallic taste in the back of my throat which I figured was post nasal drip or something, but I’ve had PND my whole life and never been a puking machine like I am now.  It’s very attractive, yes, but sometimes I want to be able to turn that whole projectile thing off.  You know?  I think I have something wrong with my stomach.  Maybe from too many NSAIDs which I cannot take anymore except in emergency and only if I am not going to lie down anytime soon.  So I am sitting here with a metallic taste in the back of my mouth and nausea though not so bad, and any moment I will mosey into the bathroom (I pretend it’s on MY terms), pull my hair back into a ponytail (eeww we know why) and get up close and personal with my newly repaired (thanks manager Dan!) porcelain pal.  Not happy, Bob.

On other notes: drinksapp.com go go go!  My car has cost me $2700 this year.  Sudoku is still addictive especially on the DS.  My birthday is on Friday.  I will be 24 again (12th annual).

Happy Saturday night!  I hope you have an awesome weekend and that you spend absolutely NONE of it unnecessarily communing with your commode.

My title is probably not funny unless you’re Cynthia.

This morning (Monday) I went to see Dr. Li, my favorite doctor in the world.  He looked in my throat and pronounced me stitch free.  I wondered why I still had sore throats after talking and he explained that while the stitches were in my throat was reacting to the foreign material and only now after the stitches are gone can the tissue fully heal.

I had emailed Dr. Li over the weekend and mentioned that my chin still hurt.  I found this out on Friday when I leaned on my chin…or did I lean on my hand?  I propped myself up with my hand on my chin?  Oh you know what I’m saying.  And I felt pain…only on the right side…where the screw that broke lives.  So Dr. Li prodded that area and shook his head…I’m sure he wishes at times that I just wasn’t so darned sensitive.  I said it was fine.  Something I would live with I’m sure.  And he said give it some time and we’ll revisit it.  But then…THEN…he said “Keep in touch.  Email me in a month. I don’t need to see you.”  Yowzah!!!  I mean, I know I will have a follow up sleep study at some point, but I guess it’s true.  He doesn’t need to see me again.  *tear*  Now what am I going to blog about?

Can I just say that 3 day weekends and the following short work weeks are awesome? I think I just said it.

Tuesday morning I got a desperate call from my boss…co-worker who was supposed to teach class was not feeling well, was there any way I could teach?  Sure.  Why not.  So, I went in to work and walked straight over to the classroom where I proceeded to talk to over 30 people for 1.5 hours straight.  Good thing I’d stocked up on iced coffee and ice water.  But alas, after class my throat was none so happy.  And then I had to do 3-4 more evaluations in Mission College no less (I hate shuttling around, in all honesty).  Needless to say, I was absolutely thrilled when 6 rolled around and I could stop talking until 7 when we walked down the street to Gin Mon for dinner.

Wednesday morning I woke up with…yes, a sore throat.  It actually woke me up a few times during the night too which was lovely.  I got to work and found out I was getting on the shuttle again midday to Great America, but being as it was my Friday, I wasn’t too concerned.  I stocked up again on iced coffee and water, and plunged in.  At the end of the day I STILL had a sore throat.  I mentioned this to my boss, because I noticed that next week has me teaching again, and I am a little not thrilled about that, but maybe next week will be better.  Best way to find your limits is to test them?  Well, that’s about where I am.

Yesterday (Thursday) I did not talk for over 8 hours.  Not even to the kitties.  And I feel MUCH better.  Lesson learned?  Probably not.  Next weekend is the MMA “reunion” of sorts in Sunnyvale, and what to want to bet I talk a little too much?  What else am I supposed to do?  Peeps from out of state are going to be there!  Must talk…must chat…  Talk to you later!