BuenoBaby

Don't Call My Tumor Fat

Meredith — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 02:21:28 +0000

Fourteen years ago, just weeks after Lexi was born, I noticed a lump on the inside of my left thigh. I was twenty-four at the time, severely sleep deprived and hormonally poisoned so when I first stumbled upon the lump I naturally thought I was going to die. But my doctor reassured me the lump was just a lump and so did every other doctor who I insisted check out my lump. Yeah, that dental appointment. SO AWKWARD!

In the past couple months, the lump has gotten bigger so I decided to schedule an appointment with my dermatologist.

Dr. N is a short, efficient man who likes to talk about things I’d rather not think about like puss. He runs his practice old-school style. He fetches his own patients in the waiting and doesn’t bother with things like nurses. He just walks you on into the exam room and is all: What?

So I was all, "Well, I have this thing. It's like...you...know...on...my leg."

Dr. N replied, "Yes?"

Just yes, that's it? Help me out here, Dr. N! No nothing? Just continue uncomfortably babbling?

Then I said, "I have to take my pants off."

And then he said, "I'll wait outside."

Once Dr. N left, I pulled off my pants and set them on the chair next to Heidi. Yes, Heidi was with me and thank goodness because she looked over at me sitting on the examination table, a paper blanket across my lap and told me I looked like an “Egg McMuffin.” A what? An “Egg McMuffin.”

At first I thought it was because I was covered in a paper wrapper. But then she pointed towards my feet and I realized I was wearing two different socks. Mother of...can I not make it through one day, ONE DAY, without humiliating myself? Then it occurred to me she was calling me a ragamuffin.

Phew, thank goodness that humiliating moment was over. Now, on to the next!

Dr. N spent longer feeling my lump than I would have liked. Once he finally looked up, I'd already gone to worse case scenario. He began telling me some medical gibberish, and then told me I have a fatty tumor, and then he went on to say a;lskdfj;alkdsjfa klsdjf;lkasjdfkjuhyuweg hrwb;3kefvj’i b[oa h;lwkejf skjdfaksd jfkajsdf;kj a;lskdfj;alkdsjfa klsdjf;lkasjdfkjuhyuweg hrwb;3kefvj’i b[oa h;lwkejf skjdfaksd jfkajsdf;kj!!!!!

All I heard was tumor.

It is my sincere hope that medical schools will begin teaching their med students that when explaining to their patients that they have a non-cancerous tumor they throw their arms into the air and shout BENIGN. A BENIGN TUMOR. Not a fatty tumor, not some other Latin word for a benign tumor, just plain old benign tumor. The kind that isn't going to kill you!

Finally, I interrupted his mesmerizing explanation of skin layers and asked if I was going to die.

He looked at me like, No duh, that's what I was just saying.

OK then! Get on with the damn point, man! Forget the medical mumbo-jumbo and give it to me straight, even if straight means you’re calling a part of me “fatty.” Just call it a benign tumor from the getgo.

Actually, just call it what all the other doctors have called it: a lump.

Ben and I Have Something ALMOST NEW To Tell You!

Meredith — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 17:56:56 +0000

So Ben and I have officially decided to ruin our marriage...I mean work with each other. Although, in the past, we've collaborated on some projects together, we've never done so with intent. What I mean is that up until now, we've worked on the random project together but never considered working together on a regular basis. It's been more like...O.k., just this one project together, this one time together...which then turned into...We'll just work on a this second project together, this second time...and so on and so on, which turned into me asking for a company car.

What we do: Ben and I design and develop Drupal websites. Some Drupal sites you might be familiar with are Grammy.com, WhiteHouse.gov, Dooce.com and of course BuenoBaby.com. I'll be doing all the web design while Ben will be developing the actual sites. Ben will also continue to consult on other Drupal projects while I'll continue to design other stuff like logos, banner ads and mastheads like the new one I just finished for SprocketInk.com.

Speaking of SprocketInk.com and their new masthead....have you been over there? You should, my buddy Jules of Michon Michon and Jarred of Never Had One Lesson founded and run the snarky, news site. (Jules and Jarred also founded StudioThirtyPlus.com.) Here's their new DropFoundry designed logo...

We're still putting the finishing touches on our new business site...it's still a 'work in progress,' but it's UP and LIVE....BY...GOD!

Come check us out!

It's The Post About Well Water You've Been Waiting For

Meredith — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 19:48:17 +0000

I'm going to the dentist next month, and I only tell you this so that you'll hold me to it and make sure I don't reschedule (or just get up out of the dentist's chair and walk out).

When I was growing up, we had well water, and if you're not familiar with well water, consider yourself lucky! That is of course unless you like rust stains in your toilet and dry, brittle hair courtesy of well water's natural minerals. Because if that's the case, you city-water folks are missing out!

Yes, well water and their rascally wells are some fun. Listen to this party: A few years back, my dad called to tell me that his well had gone and went dry. People, your wells can run out of water. For real. And then what? Get more water for your well? Fill that hole right up with some water! Nope, turns out you un-dry a well by digging an even deeper hole. How much deeper? I don't know...two feet...twenty feet? I never cared to know thought to ask.

The other downside to well water, it doesn't contain fluoride as does city water. Fluoride is a flavorless something or other added to drinking water to help teeth from decaying. Cities are very worried about your teeth, everybody. Cities don't give a shit about their schools, but by god they care about your teeth.

I however, did not grow up with city water. I grew up with well water (I also grew up without receiving fluoride treatments since fluoride treatments are poisonous, carcinogens so says my mom) and I have the rotten teeth to prove it. Here, lean in close to my mouth and check out the dozens of thirty-year old fillings I'll be replacing at the tune of a gajillion dollars over the next several years, but first, you'd better get something to protect your eyes from the metallic glare reflecting off my fillings. Something suitable for the job, like a welding mask.

Now my kids, they're growing up with well water, but they also get fluoride treatments and I'm glad to say they haven't had a single cavity.......

.....yet.

The Delight

Meredith — Tue, 10 Apr 2012 21:36:55 +0000

I spent most of my childhood wanting to grow up. What kind of stupid thinking was that?