Tuesday, June 29, 2004
SECRET OCTOBER
By now it is no secret that Brian and I are expecting our child in October. I've not posted much because it is the main topic of mind these days, and I have all kinds of fears about bad juju brought on by talking about it.
Never realized how stupidly superstitious I could be. But, to be fair, it is equal parts stupidity and reluctance at taking the chance that something goes wrong and I have to tell everyone about it.
But now the baby is just about viable. VIABLE. This is incredible. At 22 weeks post-conception. This would not be an optimal situation by any imagining, but it is certainly a notable threshold.
Plus the amnio and ultrasound came back good. Big hurdles past now, more hurdles coming.
I am still staunchly pro choice but I now understand the case against late-term abortion more than I ever have. I would consider the case against late-term abortion, and in lieu, advocate induced labor as the preferred method. There is something more humane about giving birth to a nonviable preemie than puncturing its skull in utero and sucking its brains out in a D&E (Dilation and Extraction) procedure.
In fact, a D&E would be unthinkable to me at this stage unless the foetus was not viable. And even then, it would be tough for me to do. This doesn't mean it should be a choice for other women.
However, having experienced pregnancy to this stage so far, the only option with which I feel comfortable is termination up to the point of viability. Beyond that, abortion is murder. It seems pretty clear to me. If you can take the baby out and it can survive without you, then you are basically killing a living person. Up to that
Now that viability keeps getting pushed back through technological advances, that narrows the window of choice.
Or does it? Comments?
By now it is no secret that Brian and I are expecting our child in October. I've not posted much because it is the main topic of mind these days, and I have all kinds of fears about bad juju brought on by talking about it.
Never realized how stupidly superstitious I could be. But, to be fair, it is equal parts stupidity and reluctance at taking the chance that something goes wrong and I have to tell everyone about it.
But now the baby is just about viable. VIABLE. This is incredible. At 22 weeks post-conception. This would not be an optimal situation by any imagining, but it is certainly a notable threshold.
Plus the amnio and ultrasound came back good. Big hurdles past now, more hurdles coming.
I am still staunchly pro choice but I now understand the case against late-term abortion more than I ever have. I would consider the case against late-term abortion, and in lieu, advocate induced labor as the preferred method. There is something more humane about giving birth to a nonviable preemie than puncturing its skull in utero and sucking its brains out in a D&E (Dilation and Extraction) procedure.
In fact, a D&E would be unthinkable to me at this stage unless the foetus was not viable. And even then, it would be tough for me to do. This doesn't mean it should be a choice for other women.
However, having experienced pregnancy to this stage so far, the only option with which I feel comfortable is termination up to the point of viability. Beyond that, abortion is murder. It seems pretty clear to me. If you can take the baby out and it can survive without you, then you are basically killing a living person. Up to that
Now that viability keeps getting pushed back through technological advances, that narrows the window of choice.
Or does it? Comments?
Monday, April 26, 2004
FINALLY, SOME GOOD NEWS
Humans, being a miserable lot, focus on the negative side of things all too often. I speak from what I know. But I am not a misanthrope or absent of any hope. When good news stares me in the face, I can't and won't ignore it.
Last week was chock full of good news.
Winner of the greatest news in recent memory: Sunshine's tumor responded to the chemo, and has shrunk from 6cm to 3cm. In all, this result is the best of any anticipated scenarios.This means more chemo, as least a few more rounds. I suppose the ultimate goal is to shrink it down as much as possible. surgery to resect what remains is still a possibilty, although Sunny would be pleased to forego if she could. I am hoping fofr her sake that the remainder of her therapy is as "painless" as possible.
Last, my friend Kim was kind enough to send me a link to the Good News Network, a website that publishes positive stories. Unsurprisingly, the site is not super-current, as good news is tough to come by.
Humans, being a miserable lot, focus on the negative side of things all too often. I speak from what I know. But I am not a misanthrope or absent of any hope. When good news stares me in the face, I can't and won't ignore it.
Last week was chock full of good news.
Winner of the greatest news in recent memory: Sunshine's tumor responded to the chemo, and has shrunk from 6cm to 3cm. In all, this result is the best of any anticipated scenarios.This means more chemo, as least a few more rounds. I suppose the ultimate goal is to shrink it down as much as possible. surgery to resect what remains is still a possibilty, although Sunny would be pleased to forego if she could. I am hoping fofr her sake that the remainder of her therapy is as "painless" as possible.
Last, my friend Kim was kind enough to send me a link to the Good News Network, a website that publishes positive stories. Unsurprisingly, the site is not super-current, as good news is tough to come by.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
NOW FOR THE REAL THING, MATE.
Yesterday I spoke with a colleague who informed me that a lot of people in our office do not like commuting downtown.
We are located at Federal Reserve Plaza, across the street from- you guessed it- the Federal Reserve. Maiden Lane and Nassau Street. Personally, I like it down here. The commute is very easy from downtown Jersey City. The streets are interesting and narrow. Many of them get closed off during lunch, and people are free to use the entire area as one big promenade.
Ah, but here is the rub. We are a stone’s throw from the open maw of the World Trade Center site. It is to this station that I ride the PATH every morning. For a while it felt very odd. The station layout is almost identical to how it used to be, except that it is “open air”. The light comes pouring in from all sides, with strategically-placed signage designed to distract from the massive construction going on around the station.
Every morning, as we pull in, I see 90 West Street, the building I was working in prior to 9/11. It is the only building in the area that still looks ragged. This is because it is an historic landmark and, as such, its fate hung in the balance for a long time. To restore the building to its former neo-gothic glory will require more money than building something from scratch. Only recently was it decided that 90 West would be rehabilitated into luxury lofts. Now that’s weird to me. People died in the elevators and in other spots throughout the building. I guess if we ceased building where people have died, we wouldn’t have anywhere to put ourselves. Still, that spooks me.
But surprisingly, it does not spook me to go into the WTC site every morning. Oh, it did at first, but now I feel like it is an act of defiance and overcoming fear. I will not be intimidated! Then again, I was not actually there on the morning of 9/11. I only made it as far as Exchange Place on the Jersey side before my train was stopped. Rationally, I am grateful that I was spared the horror close up. However I got a spectacular view of the second plane going into Tower 2. Rational mind notwithstanding, I still harbor guilt on some level that I should have been there. I should have been at 90 West helping my friends escape. Maybe that’s why I don’t mind coming here every day. Maybe I’m paying penance.
Yesterday I spoke with a colleague who informed me that a lot of people in our office do not like commuting downtown.
We are located at Federal Reserve Plaza, across the street from- you guessed it- the Federal Reserve. Maiden Lane and Nassau Street. Personally, I like it down here. The commute is very easy from downtown Jersey City. The streets are interesting and narrow. Many of them get closed off during lunch, and people are free to use the entire area as one big promenade.
Ah, but here is the rub. We are a stone’s throw from the open maw of the World Trade Center site. It is to this station that I ride the PATH every morning. For a while it felt very odd. The station layout is almost identical to how it used to be, except that it is “open air”. The light comes pouring in from all sides, with strategically-placed signage designed to distract from the massive construction going on around the station.
Every morning, as we pull in, I see 90 West Street, the building I was working in prior to 9/11. It is the only building in the area that still looks ragged. This is because it is an historic landmark and, as such, its fate hung in the balance for a long time. To restore the building to its former neo-gothic glory will require more money than building something from scratch. Only recently was it decided that 90 West would be rehabilitated into luxury lofts. Now that’s weird to me. People died in the elevators and in other spots throughout the building. I guess if we ceased building where people have died, we wouldn’t have anywhere to put ourselves. Still, that spooks me.
But surprisingly, it does not spook me to go into the WTC site every morning. Oh, it did at first, but now I feel like it is an act of defiance and overcoming fear. I will not be intimidated! Then again, I was not actually there on the morning of 9/11. I only made it as far as Exchange Place on the Jersey side before my train was stopped. Rationally, I am grateful that I was spared the horror close up. However I got a spectacular view of the second plane going into Tower 2. Rational mind notwithstanding, I still harbor guilt on some level that I should have been there. I should have been at 90 West helping my friends escape. Maybe that’s why I don’t mind coming here every day. Maybe I’m paying penance.
HIGH TIME.
Some Blogger I turned out to be. Typically overestimating the amount of things I can accomplish in a day, I started the Blog with the best of intentions. How boring am I? Don’t answer that.
Some Blogger I turned out to be. Typically overestimating the amount of things I can accomplish in a day, I started the Blog with the best of intentions. How boring am I? Don’t answer that.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
IT'S BEEN A WHILE.
But I am back. And today the name of the game is anxiety management for myself and others. It is the scourge of existence, a gnawing pang in the stomach that is a near-constant companion. I've wondered for a long time - at what point is anxiety a clinical condition that requires medication versus a state of existential angst? It can be a fine line.
Today's anxiety is about Sunny getting Draino put into her veins, the insecurity of a new job and the schoolwork that awaits me.
Coupled with the anxiety is the guilt that I cannot commit to staying endlessly at Sunny's bedside. It's not that I want to leave her, but the anxiety around leaving her is outweighed by the anxiety of keeping a job. Right now, life feels like it is comprised of evil choices and painful compromises.
I say this with the full knowledge of my good fortune at not being at HK anymore. That place was an anxiety factory.
But I am back. And today the name of the game is anxiety management for myself and others. It is the scourge of existence, a gnawing pang in the stomach that is a near-constant companion. I've wondered for a long time - at what point is anxiety a clinical condition that requires medication versus a state of existential angst? It can be a fine line.
Today's anxiety is about Sunny getting Draino put into her veins, the insecurity of a new job and the schoolwork that awaits me.
Coupled with the anxiety is the guilt that I cannot commit to staying endlessly at Sunny's bedside. It's not that I want to leave her, but the anxiety around leaving her is outweighed by the anxiety of keeping a job. Right now, life feels like it is comprised of evil choices and painful compromises.
I say this with the full knowledge of my good fortune at not being at HK anymore. That place was an anxiety factory.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
THE JOY OF SWEATPANTS. One of the great things about working from home is the amount of stuff I can get accomplished. I am saving 2 hours a day on commute alone, and a higher quality of life will increase my productivity, guaranteed. Getting anything done at HKW was hard on a good day, hellacious otherwise. I had to laugh at my new boss, who asked me if the 2nd day on the job had blown my mind. I said, "I don't think I adequately explained my life in the other job very well..."
MENTAL BLOCH. So with all this newfound time to manage, I did some more cancer research for Sunshine. Found a bunch more trials to check out. One of the challenges of her kind of cancer (endometrial stromal sarcoma, for the morbidly curious) is its rarity. Not a lot of current data available. But today I learned about what little exists by way of stats and resources. Lots of good stuff out there, and I was particularly heartened by the RA Bloch Foundation, a foundation started by a guy who survived cancer after being given 3 months to live. His approach is pragmatic but totally and unequivocally committed. The core: one must decide to do whatever it takes to live. Now that may sound stupidly obvious, but I see in this experience the ease with which people retreat to their comfort zones and put up resistance to new information or change. Understandable, but it'll kill you, the site basically says. And it wasn't too sappy. Which brings me to my next point....
PUT ME DOWN LIKE A DOG if I ever get publicly over-sentimentalized and drippy and leaky about my sister's illness. I find it irritating in others, and I realized over the past week a very important thing about myself: I'm more stoic than I ever realized. Now don't get me wrong. I've privately cried endlessly about Sunny, her suffering, the fact that I can't take the bullet for her, the fear of death, all of it. I've carried on and on. But I can't stand cheap sentiment. No trinkets, no prayer circles, no huggy, touchy public displays for me, thank you. I hug, I touch, I go for any mystic voodoo that might work, but when I catch the whiff, the hint, the j'ne se quois of people making someone else's suffering about their OWN suffering, I have to get away from it.
BUYING MY CONDO ON THE LAKE OF FIRE. Brian and I, in order to be eligible as godparents, recently joined Our Lady of Czestochowa Catholic Church. A nice parish in a nice neighborhood with a nice priest. But if the events of recent times have taught me anything, they have shown me that I do not turn to my faith of origin during hard times, and I do not anticipate that I will. I am intrigued by Christianity on philosophical and ethical levels, but the mystery of faith eludes me. It is simply not part of my cosmology. Done. End Of Story. I talk about karma, and making merit and calling things into being. It's like a mixture of modern family systems therapy and Buddhism (which if you want to learn more about this connection, try this, a truly fascinating study of this very subject. I'm going to hell. But I plan to seek inner peace before I get there.
MENTAL BLOCH. So with all this newfound time to manage, I did some more cancer research for Sunshine. Found a bunch more trials to check out. One of the challenges of her kind of cancer (endometrial stromal sarcoma, for the morbidly curious) is its rarity. Not a lot of current data available. But today I learned about what little exists by way of stats and resources. Lots of good stuff out there, and I was particularly heartened by the RA Bloch Foundation, a foundation started by a guy who survived cancer after being given 3 months to live. His approach is pragmatic but totally and unequivocally committed. The core: one must decide to do whatever it takes to live. Now that may sound stupidly obvious, but I see in this experience the ease with which people retreat to their comfort zones and put up resistance to new information or change. Understandable, but it'll kill you, the site basically says. And it wasn't too sappy. Which brings me to my next point....
PUT ME DOWN LIKE A DOG if I ever get publicly over-sentimentalized and drippy and leaky about my sister's illness. I find it irritating in others, and I realized over the past week a very important thing about myself: I'm more stoic than I ever realized. Now don't get me wrong. I've privately cried endlessly about Sunny, her suffering, the fact that I can't take the bullet for her, the fear of death, all of it. I've carried on and on. But I can't stand cheap sentiment. No trinkets, no prayer circles, no huggy, touchy public displays for me, thank you. I hug, I touch, I go for any mystic voodoo that might work, but when I catch the whiff, the hint, the j'ne se quois of people making someone else's suffering about their OWN suffering, I have to get away from it.
BUYING MY CONDO ON THE LAKE OF FIRE. Brian and I, in order to be eligible as godparents, recently joined Our Lady of Czestochowa Catholic Church. A nice parish in a nice neighborhood with a nice priest. But if the events of recent times have taught me anything, they have shown me that I do not turn to my faith of origin during hard times, and I do not anticipate that I will. I am intrigued by Christianity on philosophical and ethical levels, but the mystery of faith eludes me. It is simply not part of my cosmology. Done. End Of Story. I talk about karma, and making merit and calling things into being. It's like a mixture of modern family systems therapy and Buddhism (which if you want to learn more about this connection, try this, a truly fascinating study of this very subject. I'm going to hell. But I plan to seek inner peace before I get there.
RISE TO POWER. Things I’d Do if I Ever Became an Evil Overlord: The Horror!
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
I PROMISE THIS WON'T BE CANCERBLOG. However, I can't guarantee that it won't dominate many future posts. Cancer now seems to be like that SNL sketch from a hundred years ago about the nightmare guest that won't leave. Eating all your food, taking away the channel changer, calling their friends up (long distance) - and all you can do is gape and watch. That's kind of it.
Brian's little horror announcement about Sunny went out to some folks today, and the responses have been heartfelt. I want to note that our friends are trying to show up for this and I am very grateful to you all. Just let that be noted.
THE NEW GIG. Today I started my new job. I am working for a cousin of mine who is just like me, only older, male and not into therapy. So imagine that, mon freres! But in all, it is a haven because we've worked together well in the past. I get to hide out behind a lot of admin work under the rubric of "business development." Don't be fooled. It is, indeed, admin. Good for now. Good for school time. It will permit me schedule flexibility to run around and deal with whatever. I do not have to manage people. I do not have to wage epic corporate battles for power. For those of you who mistake my commitment and focus for ambition, please note that I consider the change a huge relief.
MIDTERMS. And on Friday, Analytical Techniques, where I will be tested on scintillating topics such as linear regression. Despite the feeling that I am trying to learn 4 languages simultaneously, school is very rewarding. In the past I eschewed pragmatism in my education. I was always somewhat of a romantic - 'gee, let's read the existentialists...' Very useful, just like my film degree. But now I realize that I enjoy the pragmatic stuff too. It does help to know the time value of money, or how to calculate what you are really paying for that car. Or how to read those financial thingies that you get when you hold stock. It is very satisfying to be operating in the "real world" in terms of what I am learning. Everything now is applied theory - how do you use this in the context of your life? Fantastic. I see how Sartre fits into things, but that pales in the face of balancing your checkbook. There's room for all of it in my life, and by the time I am done, I will be running back to the things I am used to learning about. But I am not ashamed to say that business school is incredibly useful and actually **interesting**.
Brian's little horror announcement about Sunny went out to some folks today, and the responses have been heartfelt. I want to note that our friends are trying to show up for this and I am very grateful to you all. Just let that be noted.
THE NEW GIG. Today I started my new job. I am working for a cousin of mine who is just like me, only older, male and not into therapy. So imagine that, mon freres! But in all, it is a haven because we've worked together well in the past. I get to hide out behind a lot of admin work under the rubric of "business development." Don't be fooled. It is, indeed, admin. Good for now. Good for school time. It will permit me schedule flexibility to run around and deal with whatever. I do not have to manage people. I do not have to wage epic corporate battles for power. For those of you who mistake my commitment and focus for ambition, please note that I consider the change a huge relief.
MIDTERMS. And on Friday, Analytical Techniques, where I will be tested on scintillating topics such as linear regression. Despite the feeling that I am trying to learn 4 languages simultaneously, school is very rewarding. In the past I eschewed pragmatism in my education. I was always somewhat of a romantic - 'gee, let's read the existentialists...' Very useful, just like my film degree. But now I realize that I enjoy the pragmatic stuff too. It does help to know the time value of money, or how to calculate what you are really paying for that car. Or how to read those financial thingies that you get when you hold stock. It is very satisfying to be operating in the "real world" in terms of what I am learning. Everything now is applied theory - how do you use this in the context of your life? Fantastic. I see how Sartre fits into things, but that pales in the face of balancing your checkbook. There's room for all of it in my life, and by the time I am done, I will be running back to the things I am used to learning about. But I am not ashamed to say that business school is incredibly useful and actually **interesting**.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
Weclome to Jennifer K's new blog. My impetus for starting this is to document some big life events as they are happening, for reflection or entertainment at some later date.
The significance of the name Monstababy is that it is the nickname of my sister, who is currently gravely ill. I have named this blog in her honor.
My friends have been asking, so here's the scoop:
-I just left my crazy-making job of 4.5 years on Tuesday 2/10
-My sister is back in the hospital to remove a tumor the size of a football
-I have a new job that I am starting on Tuesday
-Midterms are this week
There is a lot to be said on each of these points, and I will as the mood strikes. Obviously a lot is happening right now so it may take a bit of time. Feel free to say hi or check in.
The significance of the name Monstababy is that it is the nickname of my sister, who is currently gravely ill. I have named this blog in her honor.
My friends have been asking, so here's the scoop:
-I just left my crazy-making job of 4.5 years on Tuesday 2/10
-My sister is back in the hospital to remove a tumor the size of a football
-I have a new job that I am starting on Tuesday
-Midterms are this week
There is a lot to be said on each of these points, and I will as the mood strikes. Obviously a lot is happening right now so it may take a bit of time. Feel free to say hi or check in.
