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This was written about a month after the surgery to remove a ruptured ectopic pregnancy back in may of 2010....
I've tried and failed to write about this for the better part of a month now.
I've even managed to get up an - extremely - shortened/highlights reel version of what went down.
I had ordered a copy of my medical chart and the notes/chart/whatever the fuck they call it where the Doctors wrote down what happened during my surgery. I thought maybe if I could see it all laid out, nice and neat, in black and white (hell, the thing even had page numbers) that it would all fall into place and make sense. What a bunch of crap. Well, anyway, the thing finally arrived at moms house yesterday, but since I don't have the money/gasoline to drive out to get it, I had her read it for me over the phone. She was....well,....reluctant to do it. She kept saying that it would be better if I just waited until I could come look it over, but I pushed and she caved... Didn't know at the time WHY she didn't want to do this over the phone....
....I guess she must have skipped ahead to the end.
But before any of that will make sense to anyone else, allow me explain the events that led up to this colossal steaming pile of fucked-up that's currently festering in my brain....
May 17: Around 4pm.
I noticed I was bleeding again.
Not a lot, not even enough for a tampon. My underwear was a little pink. That was it, but I was still a little worried. Two weeks before I'd had about two and a half days of bleeding, like a sort of half period, with intense cramps. I'd been pretty freaked out, but every doctor I talked to said it didn't sound like cause for concern...I was still early on and light bleeding was normal. Nothing to worry about, wait until your appointment next month...etc....
I called mom and asked her if she would drive me to BAMC, just to get checked out. Just for a little piece of mind. It was probably nothing, but over the past month and a half I'd read so many articles and books about the things that could, one in 2 billion people sort of chances, go wrong I was panicking over anything and everything. It was probably nothing, right?
So I went in. They had me pee in a cup (big surprise, apparently the past time of choice when you're pregnant is to pee on, or in things and when you're not doing that you're either thinking or saying you have to pee or wondering if there's something wrong because you don't.) and drew blood for a rainbow test, so called because there are eight vials each with a different color lid to show what test is what. It took the the nurse two tries, one on each side to find a vein. They also took my history, and family history, heart rate, oxygen level, and pulse.
Having completed triage by 5pm I sat down to wait....
BAMC is a military hospital, like most hospital ER's the more serious your case, the faster you get in. I knew I was pretty low on the totem pole so I grabbed a magazine and settled in. What differs in military hospitals is that if you're next in line (a non emergency) and someone in uniform (a.k.a. Active duty member) walks in, it doesn't matter if it's a splinter in is big toe, active duty in uniform are bumped to the front. Obviously. I'm actually okay with this seeing as how they're the ones putting their ass on the line and all that.....waiting.
9 pm rolls around. Justin has taken over waiting with me and mom's gone home. I've started to notice that NO ONE not even the folks in uniform are being taken to the back. For those of you who've never been there, let me say : That's not normal. The nurse on duty tells me that because I'm pregnant I have to wait for the OB/Gyn room to open up....I go back to waiting.
10:30pm. The waiting room is full. Not crowded, not backed up, FULL. I'm starting to get mad. I inform the nurse (a smart ass 20 year old who doesn't seem to take anyone in the fucking room seriously) that I don't care if they have to do a pelvic exam in the middle of the floor. I don't care what room they put me, just tell me my baby is okay so I can go home. I see an older nurse, a guy with gray hair and a nice smile (not nearly as tempting to rack repeatedly as the asshole I'm currently speaking to) by the doors to the actual ER. I ask him what the heck is going on, why aren't they admitting people and he says in a quiet voice that there's a flight of burn patients on their way from Iraq...all beds reserved.....It would be another couple of hours before I had even a chance of getting seen.....
It's pretty much ver-boden for them to actually tell you should leave the ER. It opens them up for malpractice suits and such.
I tell him why I'm here, what my symptoms are, and I ask him "If I was your daughter, standing here, would you tell me to go somewhere else to get treated or to go home?" He looks at me funny for a minute, finally, "yes...I would say go somewhere else."
I tell him thanks, take my name off the rolls and Justin and I leave for Wilford Hall.
We drive 90 the whole way there, like maybe if we're fast enough we can outrun whatever it is that's going wrong.......
We sign in at Wilford Hall around 11:20pm, they do the usual vital signs and according to my charts, the people at BAMC processed the labs they took and posted them so I shouldn't need to have any more blood drawn. I sigh in relief (I'm a fucking nightmare to stick....) We wait for an hour and then I'm admitted. No one has yet put a name to what might or might not be wrong. They hook me up to the vital monitor and my nurse explains that they want to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. I practically pour the gel on my own stomach in anticipation. Somehow I know that seeing the heartbeat, fast and tiny though it would undoubtedly be, would make everything okay again.
I lay still, ignoring how much the ultrasound probe tickles, and crane my neck to try to get a look at the screen, I'm the daughter of a top notch X-ray tech, and I've been around hospitals all my life, I figure I can recognize a heart beat on screen when I see one....but I don't see much of anything. Must not be at the right angle to see. That's what I kept telling myself.
The tech says he's looking for the heartbeat. I ask to see it. He frowns. He tells me that I may not be far enough along to see it transversely (on my belly scan), and that they'll have to do a vaginal scan. Okay, not fun, but it would be worth it to finally see something. To confirm that this baby isn't just a figment of my overactive imagination....
Then they tell me that the folks at BAMC never tested me for blood type. Great. Ask him how good he is. I tell him, I'm a hard stick, that if he's not super confident he can get it in one try, I don't mind waiting, I won't even say why I wanted someone else.
"No worries, I do this all the time, you'll barely feel anything." I point out a likely spot, just to the side of where the BAMC tech stuck me. "If you can avoid the exact same place that's great but if you need to I can deal with it." I say.
He tries that first. Miss....nothing.
Then where I suggested.....a drop of blood, nothing more - he's gone completely through the vein to the other side.
I ask if he can use a butterfly needle for the next try (can you tell this happens to me a lot?) but he says they only have them in Anesthesiology. Great. Just fucking beautiful. I imagine the monster bruises I'm gonna have, grit my teeth and tell him to try my hand. (my I.V site of choice...at least in the hand he can see what he's aiming for and there by increases his chances...I'm hoping)
"Most people don't like the hand, they say it's more painful"
"I don't like getting stuck. I don't care if it's more painful, I just want this over with"
He manages to get several drops this time before his wiggling pushes it through. I feel my veins blow and my hand starts to bruise.
"Give me just a minute. Let me go get Joan, she's the best one we've got." He returns with Joan. Just like always she tells me she's confident. I roll my eyes. She's going for my wrist just below my left thumb. That's new....maybe she's actually good at this?
"Slight pressure" She's in. No wiggling. I don't look. "Do you have it now?" I ask. "Oh yeah, I've got it." I release my breath and she digs the needle around in the flesh searching for a vein. Justin grabs my hand just in time for me to reconsider breaking her nose. I could have held still if that's what she needed, I know not to tense up, not to move my fingers...but I don't like being lied to.
That ordeal over with, they wheel me into an OB/GYN room. Justin comes with me. I tell the two (female) nurses who accompany us that I don't need a chaperon. Even if Justin hadn't been there the fewer people examining and commenting on my crotch, the better in my opinion. Hospital policy. They stay anyway. Okay. Whatever.
Several more people enter, actually five more, one doctor, one ultrasound tech and three guys whose presence no one is willing to explain when I ask why they're there. I ask for the extras (all five of the newcomers are male) to step out for the actual exam.
The doctor snaps that "This is a teaching hospital. That's what you get." Excuse me? When did my crotch become a teaching tool? I ask repeatedly, and finally ask them individually to leave. No one's listening. I clench my jaw and put my feet in the stirrups. There's more poking and prodding and a probe (for some unknown reason they put a condom on it before it goes it...WTF? A. I'm already pregnant, b. WHY THE FUCK WOULDN'T THE DAMN THING BE CLEAN?????) and start the scan.
I don't look at them, I don't look at the screen. The take pictures at several angles, have one of the extras step up and locate the same angles. They called the next guy but I think he took pity on me as I was glaring death and dismemberment at him. He and his buddy excused themselves.
The lights come on....
I can sit up.
I can put my underwear back on.
I have a large cyst on my right ovary.
My pregnancy is most likely ectopic.
Another scan will be done by a - and I quote - "professional ultra sound technician" to confirm the results.
I can have water only.
I am told all of these things in that order, in the same tone of voice as one might comment that it was raining and perhaps the picnic should be postponed. It - this thing gone wrong inside of me - finally had a name...ectopic pregnancy. Survival statistics flashed in my mind. I feel proud that I do not smack my doctor as he and the rest leave the room. God I hate hospitals.
More waiting. It's somewhere around 2am on the 18th now. I'm not really sure. They give me a vicky since I'll probably be in "discomfort from the scans". The second scan went about the same. Only this time the room I was taken to was not frigid, the tech was a woman and she even let me cover up with a blanket once the probe was in. I asked her what she saw.
"You know I can't tell you, I have to wait for the doctor to interpret the results." It's weak and we both know it.
"This is what you do for a living. Day in and day out. No one in this fucking room believes that you don't know exactly what you're looking at."
She looks at the screen and changes the angle a couple of times before looking back at me. She has this sad look on her face, both sorry for me and glad that it's me not her on the table. My dad was an Xray tech....He told people to wait for the doctor..... I know that look all too well. I turn towards the wall so that I can pretend I'm not crying as she finishes the pictures. The doctor arrives and confirms the original diagnosis.
My eyes are open, staring at the ground. I make no noise, but I can feel the tears running down the sides of my face. Everything was over before it had a chance to get started. I wasn't going home tonight.
Justin walks over and puts is arms around my shoulders. He didn't say anything. It wasn't until that point that I really started to sob, my tears and makeup staining his shirt. It was ironic really, I had become one of those fascinating statistics that I loved to read about on the web.
I was to be admitted, in patient, while they monitored my hormone levels and condition, and debated what the best treatment options were. Since Justin would have to hop between home and hospital (animals to feed and all) We asked that I be transferred back to BAMC. it was closer, not by much but closer. They tell us that I will not be permitted to ride with Justin back to BAMC. Ambulance transport only. I snort. I'd sat in the waiting room for over six and a half hours, what the hell was another fifteen minutes going to do. The Wilford Hall OB/GYN came in and tried to explain....tubal pregnancy....dangerous.....possible rupture.....bleeding....hemorrhaging.....I don't look at him. I don't care.
The ambulance crew arrives. My lead EMT is a fucking sarcastic son of a bitch. I snap comments and yell at him that I can adjust my own damn harness and he yells right back that he's just fucking checking. He smiles while he says it and I like him more. I like medical people with a spine. If I can scare you off treating me you've got no business in this field.
They drive me to BAMC. He tells the charge nurse in 2 WEST (my unit) that they found me on the floor in pain. I open my mouth but he's already wheeling me into a private room as he tells me it get's me a better room and more prompt attention and I can shut my damn mouth about it.
I sit down for about 40 seconds. by this time it's almost 6am. I'm exhausted in every way possible and I'm fucking HUNGRY! I'd been told when I first came into BAMC no food, nothing but water. Just in case. Just in case could go fuck a goat, my stomach was threatening to eat it's own way out of my abdomen. I check my purse and wolf down a packet of Ritz Cheese Crackers. Still hungry, but slightly more bearable.
A nurse comes in.
"I just need to draw a few more labs...." I can see the rainbow test vial on her tray along with a few new ones thrown in for good measure.
I am not a good patient. I am actually a horrible patient, I usually send my doctors staff chocolate or flowers or cards after a visit to apologize for anything I've called them. But normally even I wait until they actually screw something up to start. This poor woman was just in the wrong room at the worst possible time. Something inside of me snaps under the weight of the past several hours.
NO!" My voice is loud, "I'm not donating any more blood until I see a goddamn doctor! I'm NOT putting on this ridiculous gown, I'm not doing anything! I'm sorry but I want to see a doctor."
She frowns. "We need another set of labs, the doctor ordered-"
"-I don't care if you've got orders to chop my freaking head off, I'm not doing it!! You're welcome to try to hold me down, but honestly, I've got probably 50lbs and a foot of height on you, so I wouldn't recommend it."
She tosses her head and looks down her nose at me. The "patient". The one who's probably going to die and create a lot of trouble doing it, then turns on her heel and marches out. No doubt to tattle on me to the big bad doctor.
I lay down to try and sleep. Maybe I'll get a half hour or so -
The doctor (Dr. Rumsey I later learned) charged into the room. "Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you can talk to my interns this way? Who is responsible for you? I want your fathers name and the name of his commanding officer!"
Well, at least this one had a spine. I glare at him. "I'm responsible for me. My dad is disabled. He had a stroke. I can give you his number if you really want to call and yell at him, but I don't think it'll do any good. I want my discharge papers. I'm done with this, I'm going home!" At that moment I meant it too. These so called professionals could go fuck themselves.
"Do you have any idea what happens in an ectopic pregnancy when it ruptures? Have you ever seen someone bleed out internally? Because I have. This isn't going to get better without treatment. If you go home, it's almost certain that you are going to die. You'll either bleed out quick or you'll bleed out slow but either way you'll be gone before anyone can get you back here." He was still shouting.
"I'm done. I'm going home. NOW."
He shook his head and walked out of the room. I called my mom. she begged me to stay. I know it was the right thing, but it felt so much like her begging me to just be quiet when I screamed as she had me tossed into South West Mental health as a kid. I said I was going home. I called Justin next. He tried to talk me out of it, or at least get me to agree to stay in town at Mom's house. I wanted so badly to just go home, I could fall into bed wrap the comforter around me and forget everything that had happened. I would wake up and it would be gone.
Dr. Rumsey came back. I clenched my teeth and waited for the lecture.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. It seems the report I got was more than a little exaggerated."
I later learned that the nurse was actually an intern and had said I was completely irrational and shouting profanities at her for simply asking me to sit down so she could check my arm for draw sites....she neglected to mention my request to speak to the doctor FIRST...... I REALLY HATE interns....
"Look I understand that you're frustrated. You're tired and you're not feeling too good, and you've been bouncing back and forth between doc's and hospitals. I know you feel like you've gotten pretty shitty care so far."
I nod. Well, it was true....
"I went into medicine because I got shitty care, and so did my family and I try to redeem the rest of us by changing that. So, what we know so far... It's highly likely you've got an ectopic pregnancy, probably tubal. You've got a larger than average pregnancy cyst on your right ovary. Your HCG levels put you at nearly two months, but we've only got one set of labs. Normally we take them over a two day period."
I think I had actually started sobbing at that point.
More labs.
more sticks.
more hopeless trainees jabbing into my arms and wrists and hands and digging until I thought my tendons would rip.
It's not that I'm afraid of needles. I'm not. I have lots of tattoos... I take my intramuscular shots no problem and I usually chat with the tech while they're doing it. I donated plasma for a year. I'm fine with IV's being in me, that's not what I hate, what I hate is the part where they have to dig. I'm not an easy stick. At all. In fact I'm a fucking nightmare to stick. But everyone, every trainee, intern, and nurse tells me how confident they are and that they're more than capable.
I try to explain. It's not that they're not good, I'm sure they are. It's MY body that's fucked up, my veins that roll, dive, disappear and blow at the slightest touch of a needle. My veins, that are coated in scar tissue from a year of plasma donation, are fucked up beyond belief. My arms and wrists and hand that swell like ripe mellons after the first blow, and darken to the color of ripe plums by the second. But no one ever fucking listens to me, because I'm not the medical guy who went to school for four years plus to learn to stick needles into people.
Slowly, trying to stay calm. I explain to Dr. Rumsey all of these things. I tell him that I don't mind waiting on someone who's actually good at drawing blood, hell, I'll walk across the hospital for someone who can do it in one try and carry the labs back up myself. I tell him that both arms hands and wrists have been stuck, more than once..... I tell him that they threatened to go for the big vein in my thigh because no one could stick me. I try to make him understand how much I hate it when they dig.
He smiles and tells me that he'll have them take me up to anesthesiology to get the labs done. Better techs, butterfly needles and good freaking drugs. I could have kissed the guy. He tells me no food but I don't mind. I've got more crackers in my bag. Things crawled along from there.
I had to pee in a bowl when I went so they could monitor my imput/output and was allowed ONE glass of water to prevent dehydration until some brilliant individual managed against all odds to coax an IV line into me. They wheeled me down for another pelvic exam and a third scan. I was used to it by then. It felt so strange being in the regular out patient portion of the hospital, sitting in a wheel chair, wearing a (nicer than paper) cloth gown with a blanket drapped over my legs. I sat in the OB/GYN clinic waiting room. The normal patients, all there for routine procedures, kept stealing looks at me like I might start bleeding or screaming or fall over dead at any moment.
I ignored them.
When they wheeled me back out after a third confirmation that something was wrong and there was no baby growing in my uterus (No shit? How the hell did you guess, Doc?) I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the mirrored window glass of an office. I didn't look like me. My face was pale and slightly red at the nose and eyes from crying, and completely devoid of make up (NOT my natural state) I had pulled my hair back into a loose pony tail at some point , or maybe Justin did, I couldn't remember, but by some miracle it was actually staying in place instead of sticking up at odd angles or falling out like a good hospital patients hair should.
I studied myself for a moment. I didn't recognize the girl looking back at me. She was too old to be me. If it were really me, the girl would have looked scared and angry and cheated. She would have been weaving back and forth from the waves of exhaustion that tugged at me. (I had even fallen asleep during the pelvic exam. the females reading this have some idea of how tired one would have to be for that to happen) This girl was older, obviously, and wiser because she wasn't scared or angry or sobbing or weaving. She wasn't anything. She simply starred back at me. Neither smiling nor frowning. not sad or happy, or angry. She was empty. She was resigned. I didn't want to be her. I felt like I should do...something, how could she be me? I wanted to do something, but we both knew that we were just too tired to care.
By then it was 9:30 maybe 10 am on the 18th. A quick layover in the ward and then down to anesthesia for them to try their hands on my tricky, squirmy, slippery veins. They were actual doctors...doctors who studied techniques and locations and had to stick people with needles in very tricky places day in and day out... so I was actually hopeful that maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
A male nurse, a different one this time steps in to wheel me down. I keep telling people I can take myself there but they don't listen. He tries to talk me into letting him try to stick me for the IV so we don't have to "make the trip down there".....
....translation: I don't want to haul your ass down all those long hallways and wait around for an hour until they're done with you.
I don't bite. I don't even have to put up a real fight this time: we both know that for once I've got signed doctors orders on my side.
He wheels me out towards the elevator.
Anesthesia is busy, it's always busy. People coming in, people going out, people trying to figure out where the person they've got is supposed to be coming in to or out of.... They find me a section and the nurse puts the breaks on the chair.
A young nurse? Doctor? I can't tell, walks up, she's got an name tag and a tag that identifies her as an anesthesiologist on her shirt. I smile. here's to hoping.
"So you're Kathryn?" she has me read out my social and birth date, it's a double identify down here so no one gets the wrong drugs... She explains that I'll have a rainbow test panel done and that they want another for my HCG levels and.... she trails off when she noticed the bored look on my face.
"Why don't we get started."
I offer her my left arm. "Is there any chance you can use a butterfly needle? Or maybe something smaller than what they've got in the ward?"
She ties the tourniquet off and starts cleaning and tapping. She tries three times and manages to get one vial done. I'm trying not to cry because I know it'll only make me shake which will make her job harder. The insides of my elbows feel like someone has ripped out most of the ligaments. Doctor after doctor comes over to comment, critique and finally make their own failed attempt.
Eleven sticks in. My elbows are starting to swell, right hand is numb on top, but I sure a fuck can feel it when they dig between the bones. The woman who first stuck me seems to realize that I can't deal with much more of this before I snap and stab someone with one of the sharps from the growing pile on my lap. She pulls out a VERY tiny needle.
"Novocaine" she explains, "It'll be a small sting and maybe a slight burning sensation, but you won't feel the big needles nearly as much...." she offers quietly. I nod emphatically. I'd still feel pressure but the horrible pulling, twisting tearing sensation would be gone.
For more sticks. Each one is preceded by the burning pinch of the novocaine but it dulls the pain and makes it slightly more bearable. It seems like half the anesthesiology department is in my little section, the curtains are pulled back to make room for the crowd as they examine, poke, prod, pinch, pull and finally puncture my elbows, forearms wrists and hands. Nothing like bunch of doc's to make you feel like a freak....
Around the time my escort admitted he was sorry for trying to talk me out of coming, someone wheeled in a portable ultrasound machine.. WTF???? Transmitter gel was smeared onto my arm, one doc to scan, one to numb the site, and another to stick me. I had lost long since lost my battle with sobbing...tears rolled down my face, I kept sniffling so my nose wouldn't run and I tried to hold as still as possible, but I just couldn't stop. There is only so much a person can take in a finite space of time, and I had reach my breaking point.
I snatch my arm away.
"NO. NO MORE!" I shriek at the gather of doctors and nurses who for all I could tell had come to see the spectacle. "I AM DONE! DO YOU HEAR ME???!! NO FUCKING MORE!! I'M DONE! NO MORE TRIES, NO MORE SECOND CHANCES, YOU'VE USED UP ALL YOUR FUCKING TRIES! NO! MORE!"
They all try to explain how it's required, I can't have surgery without it, I need the IV they need more labs, if I have a line in they can draw blood from that....I don't care. I'm tried of people telling me they can do it. I'm ready to strangle each of them and their ego's that won't let them admit they can't. I close my eyes and turn up the volume on the noise in my head to drown them out. They could sit there and shout at me until I bled out and died in that wheelchair in the middle of their clinic. I really didn't care.
My original doctor has disappeared some time before, now she returned with an other woman. She was a nurse, I could tell by her dress. She was also the oldest one their. White hair and slightly hunchbacked. Doctor number one explained that Doris (her's is the only name I can remember, which suits me just fine) is a dialysis nurse. That sticking people who can't be stuck any more is all she does.
Doris kneels down by my chair. "Listen to me, I know you're tried, and I know you're sick to death of people sticking you, but I know I can do it. This is what I do. I'll use a very small needle and I'll put the IV line in at the same time. I'm telling you I can do it."
I start to refuse to explain that I just wasn't interested.
"Look, they ARE going to keep sticking you until one of them get's lucky. Right?"
I nod know that eventually they'll sedate me if they really want to get a needle in me and I refuse.
"Well I'll make a deal with you, you let me try once just once and if I can't do it, no one will try again."
"Yeah right." she didn't have the authority. She was just a nurse, an old one, but still a nurse. I noticed that the crowd had slowly cleared out until it was just Doris and Doctor number one and me in my chair with a pile of sharps on my blanket.
I'm sobbing again. I'm so fucking tired, I just want to sleep....
"Fine!" I moan, "Once, one try, just one. No more, if you don't get it I'm DONE!"
she smiles and picks up my left hand. It's only been stuck twice. She pokes at the tattoo in the center of it. She picks up the novocaine and I look away as she numbs it. She doesn't even tie a tourniquet before going for the next needle. That was new.
This time I watch as she studies my hand, taps it once, then kneels down and slips the needle directly under the ink. Blood gushes into the vial on the other end. The IV catheter tiny and plastic slides in as the needle comes out and she tapes the whole thing into place against my skin.
"You're done."
I look at her not quite understanding. "The IV's in, I've got the labs. If they need to they can draw blood from that."
I thank her. and this time I even mean it.
I'm still sobbing as my nurse wheels me back to the elevator and into my room at 2 West. Dr. Rumsey and Dr. Vroon, the one who did my third pelvic exam and scan, are waiting for me....
11 am, May 18.
I've got options. I've got lots of options. All my options really fucking blow.
I can't have the shot. Not for another week. They said that it was to make sure that there was no chance this was a normal pregnancy because they were not authorized to preform an abortion.
I wanted to ask Dr. Rumsey if he could hear himself, if he understood what he was saying. These people had spent so much time and effort to tell me that something was wrong, there was no baby in my womb. there was no chance for a normal pregnancy. there was no chance for anything but death. What the hell else was there to make sure of??
I could wait, but I might rupture, and bleed and die.
They wanted to monitor my levels, there was a slight chance that I had already miscarried and that they would drop in the next two days. I might even be able to go to mom's house until they knew more...
I could wait, but I might rupture and bleed and die.
Did I have to choose right now? Couldn't it wait, just a little so there would only be just a little risk? I had sent Justin home to feed the cats, and ferrets and my ridiculous dog and to sleep until he was sentient again when they had transferred me back to BAMC. Dr. Vroon wanted me to go straight to surgery. He was quiet and reserved and everyone said he was very thorough....
I had already called Stephy, she'd told me to stay when I wanted to leave, told me that the surgery they wanted to do, laproscopy was very safe, very easy recovery. I'd be walking around the unit a couple of hours after they were done. I was scarred shitless.
The only other surgery I'd ever had was a tonsilectomy. I was 12, but I have vivid memories of it. I was fine going in, coming out? another matter entirely. They had trouble bringing me back and when they did I was so confused and terrifed that I couldn't tell which way was up or down or where I was....it took four large men to hold 12 year old me down long enough for them to tied me to the bed. I left them with god knows how many bruises and on broken nose. mom took me home and I slept for three days. I wonder sometimes what were the odds that I might not have woken up?
I couldn't go yet. Even if I had to go today, I couldn't go yet, not until he came back. I asked about thursday, just 12 measly hours? Please? I swear I'll be nice! I won't call the interns names or threaten to throw things at people who get to close to touching my precious IV lest they accidentally bump into it and cause it to blow a vein. Please?
2 West didn't have any scheduled surgery time on thursdays, I'd be tacked on to the very end of the day at best.
I glared at them, and they glared back at me. "Fine, but not until Justin comes back. I'm not going under before I get to see him." deal. Neither side was particularly happy, but we'd both have to settle.
I call him and he's on his way. He says he'll try to make it in time to see me. I tell him not to rush. I'm not going anywhere before he get back, and God help the poor soul who tried to tell me otherwise.
12:05pm a nurse walks in (new, again) and tells me that they're ready for me in surgery as a bed is wheeled in behind him. I snort. I tell him I'm not going yet. The Doc said I could wait. Thankfully Justin came in at that point, ending the conversation. They take my IV line off the stand and help me move to the bed, Justin is telling me that Nekochan is on her way up from the front of the hospital and the nurse says we're going so he tells her to hurry. She catches up to us just outside the O.R prep room. in time to wish me luck and watch as I'm wheeled inside.
Only one visitor.
Justin comes with me. It wouldn't matter either way now, I'm stuck with it, I'm stuck to the bed now, even if they force him to leave, my options dried up when I climbed on board.
He holds my hand as they open my line to give me the good stuff..."to help you relax about the surgery". Good God does it kick in FAST! I can feel my bones turn to warm pudding as my skin melts away and so does any anxiety I might have felt. Justin is smiling and I know I look like a loon, laughing at nothing and giggling into my pillow while the drugs work their magic. He kisses my forehead while the doctors tell him that the procedure should only take about an hour.....
Someone tells us it's time and my bed starts to move toward the double doors of the surgery. I lose his hand. I know he's still back there but I can't lift my head to look.
What are the odds I won't wake up?
Under the lights, they slip a mask over my mouth and nose.
"Is this the stuff?" I ask, holding my breath.
"No, just oxygen, take a few deep breaths..."
I breath in.
Blackness rolls over everything....
I hate it when they lie.
My surgery took over 3 1/2 hours from the time I was wheeled in until I was taken to post op. The cyst on my right ovary had ruptured and they drained the excess fluid. I was told that the pregnancy was on the left side though, it had as they put it, already done damage to the tube and though they tried it couldn't be saved....
...The tube that is, there was never any intention of trying to save the pregnancy.
Both had been cut out as a single piece.
I came out from under the anesthesia much quieter this time. My eyes itched and they kept taking my hands away when I tried to rub but nothing like the first time. Later, Dr. Vroon would explain that my lungs had not fully come out thou. They had not fully woken up....I was given a sort of tube to breath through several times an hour to help re-inflate them. All it seemed to do was make me cough.
my recovery was normal and within a few hours I was hobbling around the ward asking questions and getting in the way. Stephy, her mother, my mother and Justin's parents came to visit me. I was given a plant and several cards and Stephy explained how to get hospital privileges so we could go out to the smoke hut for the two cigarettes she brought for me.
I was finally allowed food. I ate three sandwiches, a salad, a baked potato, four juice cups and a piece of pie. The nurses said I would vomit. I ate every crumb.
I was discharged on the 19, with lots of pills and instructions and a pillow to hold to my stomach so coughing wouldn't hurt as much. I was also to keep the water mug and breathing tube.
Light duty.
No heavy lifting.
No intercourse for 6 weeks.
I could ride at a walk or slow jog. No jumping no trail riding. (That last bit was from Dr. Rumsey. His daughter apparently rides at Retama, so he'd given me extra instructions when he found out I was a horse person.)
I laid in bed. I ate pills and water and shuffled around the house.
What else was there to do?
It hadn't been my fault, nothing I did or didn't do could have caused this. Nothing was wrong with the baby, it just wasn't meant to be.
Not meant to be this time, that's what everyone said. And that's what I kept telling myself. But that's not it, maybe if it was, it would have been okay, I would have gone on and forgotten. It would be a sad memory of something that just hadn't been meant to be.
Somehow something just didn't seem right. They had mentioned seeing the damage before they opened tube, seeing the placenta growing on it....
That wasn't right.....
It hadn't ruptured, had it?
He shouldn't have been able to see it.....
You see, in a tubal ectopic pregnancy, it's not the pregnant part that kills you, or the baby....it's not really even where the baby is, it's more than capable of getting adequate nutrition, blood and everything else from the placenta implanted in the tube....it's the bleeding that happens when your tube ruptures that's supposed to kill you. Supposed to, anyway...
When the baby get's to a certain size, the tube can't stretch any further and it ruptures. This causes severe pain and massive internal hemorrhaging. If you don't get to the ER for emergency surgery you bleed out...sometimes in under half an hour. That's what's supposed to happen.
I say supposed to like that means something. I guess it should but it didn't. Because I know now that absolutely NOTHING happened like it was supposed to.
"pre-op rupture of left fallopian tube, placenta clearly visible, minimal bleeding"
That's what the doctors put in my chart, my little file where they describe the surgery and what they found. They weren't quite sure when it happened. But I am.
The part that everyone was so fucking concerned about, the horrible, painful bloody death....? Not forth coming. Not even close. Two days of bleeding and a slight case of cramps.... that was it. My tube had ruptured and the pregnancy had moved outside into my abdominal cavity.
"detectable fetal heartbeat....."
The really fucked up part? It turns out that because of that little miracle, because I hadn't curled up into a little ball of pain and died like a good statistical average should, I could have carried the baby abdominally and delivered via c-section.....
....But it was against hospital policy.
....Too high a risk.
....The end didn't out weigh the means by a large enough percentage for this statistic to beat the odds.
....The part that should have killed me was over. Painful, bloody death had not been forthcoming and we were both still alive and fine... It says so right in my chart, laid out in black and white. "patient condition - stable"
But what the heck? The Doc's had come all the way down. They were there and I was there. They were all cleaned up and scrubbed down, I had a IV pushing the best pharmaceuticals money could buy directly into my veins and the tubes and instruments were already in place....Why waste the drugs?
Everything was already set, might as well cut something out, right?
You will never get to know what would have happened if you didn't go in to surgery. Maybe the baby would have been viable. Maybe the pregnancy would have injured you or killed you. I'm sure the not knowing is horrible and eating you alive. I hope time allows you to let go of your regrets and find peace. In the mean time you have a right to be angry, sad, and hurt as you mourn the loss of your child.
I am so sorry for your loss. I couldn't imagine going through that myself and I'm sorry that you had too. The what ifs are a bitch that's for sure I still have them with my miscarriages. But for them to do that without first consulting with someone like your honey is so far beyond wrong it's not even funny. I just love the:
part. I hope that you start to feel better soon. I have chosen to look at my miscarriage in April 2008 this way. I look at my youngest son (who was conceived 2 weeks after I miscarried) and think of how increadably amazing he is, sweet, kind, loves to give hugs and kisses and is generally a happy baby and then I think if I didn't lose that baby I couldn't even imagine how my life would have changed. That child could've been just as happy and wonderful but it could've also been sick where it would've been like my brother, severally handicapped, and I count my blessings everyday that although one, correction two, children were taken from me I have in return one amazing little boy who I would miss if he wasn't here.
Much love, light and calming peace to you my sister Pagan. Remember all things have a purpose even if it doesn't seem like it at this moment. *HUGZ*
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text:
Salomon Kalou's early goal helped Ivory Coast book their spot in the African Nations Cup quarter-finals and consign opponents Burkina Faso to an early exit.
The Chelsea striker opened the scoring after 16 minutes and a late own goal from Bakary Kone sealed the victory as the tournament favourites, having beaten Sudan in their opening match, guaranteed themselves a top-two finish in Group B.
Today's loss signals the end of Burkina Faso's hopes, as they remain rooted to the foot of the standings having also lost 2-1 to Angola.
Burkina Faso had their chances in a entertaining encounter in Malabo, with Beli Moumouni Dagano hitting the crossbar late on and Alain Traore a regular threat with his long-range thunderbolts, but Ivory Coast also had a raft of opportunities and they will hope their finishing improves in the latter rounds as they seek only their second Nations Cup title.
Burkina Faso felt they should have been awarded a sixth-minute penalty when Jonathan Pitroipa went down in the area following a challenge from Souleymane Bamba, but that was waved away and 10 minutes later they found themselves trailing.
Didier Drogba sent over a cross from near the right corner flag which, after Yaya Toure had just failed to collect, found its way through to Kalou in the middle and he drilled home a sweetly-struck
left-footed strike past Daouda Diakite.
Ivory Coast would have hoped that was the start of a comfortable night's work, but Burkina Faso proved no easy opponents and Traore twice went close with efforts from the edge of the box as they sought an equaliser.
Ivory Coast almost doubled their lead on the stroke of half-time when Diakite did well to deny
Drogba and Gervinho in quick succession, although the Arsenal man's effort would not have counted anyway due to offside.
Gervinho spurned a decent opening to increase his side's advantage at the start of the second half, before the left-footed Traore saw two good efforts saved by Boubacar Barry.
Gervinho blazed an even better opportunity over when unmarked six yards out in the 60th minute and soon after he produced a good parry out of Diakite after bending a shot around a defender.
Kalou helped set Gervinho up for that chance but the Chelsea man suffered what appeared to be a hamstring injury in the build-up and he was replaced by Max Gradel soon after.
Ivory Coast survived a huge let-off in the 72nd minute when Dagano got on the end of a superb deep cross from Charles Kabore before powering a header goalward, but fortunately for the Elephants the ball smashed against the crossbar and went over.
Dagano then saw another header comfortably saved by Barry before Ivory Coast sealed the win with an own goal in the 82nd minute.
Arthur Boka launched a long ball forward into the Burkina Faso area and, as team-mates Kone and Mamadou Tall challenged for the ball without an Ivory Coast player involved, the former
succeeded only in sending a looping header over Diakite and into his own net.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Deadlines and Important Dates
Your degree application, including receipt of all transcripts, must be received by the following deadlines to be considered complete.
- June 30 for fall semester admission
- October 31 for spring semester admission
- March 15 for summer semester admission
New students are encouraged to complete the FAFSA by March 1. Please visit the Office of Student Aid website for more information about applying for financial aid and recommended deadlines.
Evaluations of degree and financial aid applications may not be completed in time if received beyond the above deadlines.
Admissions Help
Thank you for your interest in applying to this program. Contact an admissions counselor to discuss your educational goals, financial aid options, and application deadlines.
To apply for this program, you must be a high school graduate, or have completed your GED.
Admission Process
Admission to the Bachelor of Arts in Psychology offered through the World Campus is dependent upon meeting a set of Entrance-to-Major requirements (ETMs — see below). When applying, begin by selecting the BA/BS degree in psychology. If you meet the ETM requirements at the time you apply, you will be admitted directly into the program. However, if an assessment of your previous work determines that you have not met the ETM requirements, you will automatically be considered for admission to the College of the Liberal Arts (with an intended major of psychology).
If you are admitted to the College of the Liberal Arts, you will work closely with your World Campus academic adviser to learn how to fulfill the psychology ETM requirements. Once you have successfully met these requirements your adviser can help you change your major to psychology.
Entrance-to-major (ETM) Requirements for Psychology Degrees
Once you are admitted to the liberal arts program, you will work closely with your academic adviser to gain entrance to the BA or BS degree in psychology. Upon completing your ETM requirements, your adviser can help you change your major to psychology.
To change your major from liberal arts to psychology, you will have earned at least 27½ credits and a C or better in the following courses:
- STAT 200 or PSYCH 200
- a 3-credit General Quantitative Course (not including STAT 200)
- a 3-credit Social and Behavioral Science Course (in addition to PSYCH 100)
Application Materials
Official high school transcripts or GED transcript along with records from high school. High school and GED records are required regardless of the length of time that has passed.
Official college or university transcripts, if you attended another institution, and/or official military transcripts (if applicable). (All college or university transcripts are required regardless of the length of time that has passed, the grades earned, or the accreditation of the institutions attended. Acceptance of transfer credit toward your degree is subject to final approval by the academic department. For detailed information, see the Transfer Students page.)
Transcripts can be sent by mail or electronically through Parchment, eScrip-Safe, or the National Student Clearinghouse directly to Penn State from the college/university where coursework was attempted.
Submit official documents by mail to:
Undergraduate Admissions Office
The Pennsylvania State University
201 Shields Building
University Park PA 16802
Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL) or International English Language Testing System (IELTS) scores must be submitted by all international applicants unless otherwise specified. Score requirements are found in the "English Language Proficiency" section of the Undergraduate Admissions International Requirements page. Visit the TOEFL website for testing information. Penn State's institutional code is 2660.
How to Apply
Former Penn State students may not need to complete the admissions application. Please visit our Returning Students page for instructions.
If this is your first time applying to Penn State, you'll need to complete the following steps:
- Review the application instructions before beginning.
- Complete the online application and submit all official documents.
- Pay the application fee.
Checking Your Status
You can check the status of your application by using the same login information established for the online application form and choosing "MyPennState — Check Application Status." Your decision letter (confirming your acceptance or denial) will be mailed four to six weeks after receipt of all application materials. An admissions counselor will contact you if additional information is required.


text:
Shamim Adam
Saturday, Sept 27, 2008
Asia's central banks have started to cut interest rates, judging they need to counter the effect of the U.S. financial crisis on their export-dependent economies as inflation peaks.
Taiwan cut borrowing costs on Sept. 25, joining China, Australia and New Zealand in easing the price of money this month. Inflation rates have slowed in Thailand and Sri Lanka, and policy makers in the Philippines, India and Indonesia forecast price gains will cool before the end of the year.
Lower borrowing costs may spur growth as the economies of the U.S., Europe and Japan weaken and the deepening credit crisis threatens to tip the world into a recession. Still, some analysts say the inflation fight isn't over and that loose monetary policy or a surge in oil costs may spark another bout of higher prices.
(Article continues below)
"The bias may be shifting too quickly to growth and that is not wise," said Jan Lambregts, head of Asia research at Rabobank International in Hong Kong. "It's too early to declare victory over inflation."
The credit crisis led Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. to file for bankruptcy and prompted the sale of Merrill Lynch & Co. to Bank of America Corp. this month. U.S. regulators have seized at least nine lenders since July, including Washington Mutual Inc. yesterday, the fastest pace in 15 years.
While the contagion from the turmoil isn't likely to infect Asia's banking systems, the credit crisis is hurting exports.
Fewer orders for made-in-Asia goods are cooling industrial production in China, Singapore and Taiwan among others. Bank of Korea official Kang Myung Hun, who opposed a rate increase last month, said the nation's slowing economy is more of a concern than accelerating inflation.
This article was posted: Saturday, September 27, 2008 at 3:52 am


text:
Nature Coast Festival Singers present Christmas concert: 3 p.m., Nativity Lutheran Church, 6363 Commercial Way, Weeki Wachee. The concert will include the Christmas choruses from Handel's The Messiah and other seasonal songs. Free admission; an offering will be accepted during intermission. (352) 597-2235.
Thanksgiving Weekend Bluegrass Festival: 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., Sertoma Youth Ranch, 85 Myers Road, south of Spring Lake. Prices vary. (352) 754-3082.
VFW Men's Auxiliary breakfast: 9 a.m.-noon, VFW Post 9236, 3436 Shoal Line Blvd., Hernando Beach. Includes eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, pancakes, biscuits and gravy and other items. $6. (352) 596-9236.
Nature Coast Festival Singers present Christmas concert: 7 p.m., Brooksville Wesleyan Church, 8168 Jasmine Drive, Brooksville. The concert will include the Christmas choruses from Handel's The Messiah and other seasonal songs. Free admission; an offering will be accepted during intermission. (352) 597-2235.
Chinsegut Nature Center medicinal plant walk: 10 a.m. to noon, 23212 Lake Lindsey Road, north of Brooksville. Led by Sid Taylor, a botanist and Division of Forestry employee. Free. (352) 754-6722.
"Florida-Friendly Holiday Decorating" class: 6:30 p.m., East Hernando Branch Library, 6457 Windmere Road, Ridge Manor West. Free. Provided by the Hernando County Cooperative Extension Service. (352) 754-4433.
Hernando County Legislative Delegation's annual meeting: 1 p.m., commission chambers, Hernando County Government Center, 20 N Main St., Brooksville. (352) 688-5005.
Hernando Symphony Orchestra presents "A Modern Holiday" Christmas Concert: 7:30 p.m., Springstead Theatre, 3300 Mariner Blvd., Spring Hill. Featuring Mannheim Steamroller arrangements of Deck the Halls, Christmas Lullaby and Stille Nacht (Silent Night). Other selections include Candles and Dreidels, Have a Holly Jolly Christmas, Let There Be Peace On Earth, Bells of Christmas, Winter Wonderland, God of Our Fathers and Farandole, as well as other holiday favorites. Tickets are $12 for adults, $5 for students in grades K-12. Season tickets are $30. (352) 597-9555 or visit hernandosymphony.com.
"Florida Bugs: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" horticulture class: 10 a.m., Spring Hill Branch/Harold G. Zopp Memorial Library, 9220 Spring Hill Drive. Free. Provided by the Hernando County Cooperative Extension Service. (352) 754-4433.
Hernando County Sheriff's Office South Brooksville Community Center dedication and grand opening: 10 a.m., 601 Dr. M.L. King Jr. Blvd., Brooksville. The building will be dedicated to former deputies Willie James Brooks and Lee Lawson, the first African-American deputies hired by the Sheriff's Office. (352) 754-6830.
Brooksville Elementary hosts Winter Festival: 5:30 to 7:30 p.m., 885 N Broad St., Brooksville. Presale tickets are five for $1; the cost is four for $1 on festival day. There will be inflatable rides, food, games and a silent auction. (352) 797-7014.
Christmas on Main Street/Courthouse Christmas Tree Lighting Program: 6:30 to 7:30 p.m., in front of the old courthouse at the Hernando County Government Center, 20 N Main St., Brooksville. Includes local talent performing holiday music. Bring lawn chairs. (352) 754-4000.
Fall Celebration of Poetry: 7 to 9 p.m., Pasco-Hernando Community College North Campus, 11415 Ponce de Leon Blvd., Brooksville. This is an open-mike poetry reading. Refreshments will be served and a door prize awarded. Poets wishing to read one or two of their works must sign up in advance. (352) 797-5132 or (352) 797-5109. If time permits, those who do not sign up in advance may have an opportunity to read.
Festival of Trees: 10 a.m. to 7 p.m., Heffernan Hall, St. Anthony Catholic Church, 20428 Cortez Blvd., Brooksville. Includes vendors, decorated trees, pictures with Santa, entertainment and other activities. (352) 796-6026, (352) 848-7988 or (352) 796-2096.
Floral City Heritage Days 2009: Starting at dusk (about 6 p.m.), along U.S. 41 south and State Road 48 (Orange Avenue), Floral City. There will be a fish fry, horse-drawn wagon rides, caroling and walking under century-old oaks among 1,000 luminaries. (352) 650-0013.
Hernando County Fine Arts Council's Winter Gala fundraiser: 7 p.m., Rogers' Christmas House Village, 103 S Saxon Ave., Brooksville. Tickets are $20 each or $30 for two. Includes hors d'oeuvres, desserts and wine. Entertainment provided by Shawn and Jessica Doolittle, a Hernando Symphony Orchestra string quartet, Regina AaMacha and Jonny Maduro. There will be a silent auction of artwork donated by area artists. (352) 754-4788.
Hernando County Water Awareness Series presents "Why Sinkholes? Why Here? What You Need to Know": 10 a.m. to noon, Hernando County Utilities Department, 21030 Cortez Blvd., Brooksville. Presented by Ann Tihansky, hydrologist with the U.S. Geological Survey. Refreshments will be served. Free. Sponsored by the Utilities Department and Citizens for WATER. Reservations requested, (352) 754-4705.
Moon Over the Mounds: 8 to 10 p.m., Crystal River Archaeological State Park, 3400 N Museum Point, Crystal River. Interpretive guided tour by torchlight. Free. (352) 795-3817.
Spring Hill Calvary Church yard sale: 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., 235 Cobblestone Drive, Spring Hill. Proceeds will help restock the community food pantry. (352) 683-0587.
Stage West Golden Revue Gala Holiday Cruise: 8 p.m., 8390 Forest Oaks Blvd., Spring Hill. The show features entertainers 50 and older, including dancers, singers, comedians and other entertainment. Tickets are $10. (352) 683-5113.
Withlacoochee Rockhounds' 35th annual Gem, Mineral and Jewelry Show: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., SNPJ Hall, 13383 County Line Road, Spring Hill. $3 for adults, $1 for teenagers and free for children 12 and younger. Visit withlacoocheerockhounds.com.
Bark Island: 8 to 10 a.m., Alfred A. McKethan Park, 10800 Pine Island Drive, Pine Island. Dogs and their owners are invited to the park. The cost is $5 per car or walk-up patron. Pet owners must provide proof of current vaccination records to enter the park. All dogs must be on leashes. (352) 754-4031.
Block Party Fundraiser for the Dawn Center: 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., Spring Hill Retail Center Plaza at Anderson Snow Road and Spring Hill Drive. There will be a DJ and Christmas tree lighting, face painting, food vendors, pictures with Santa, business vendors, raffles and Dawn Center representatives on hand. Alice Pirola, (352) 686-9230, or Kimber at Danielle's Hair Studio, (352) 799-6993.
Boy Scouts Troop 459 breakfast: 8 to 11 a.m., Brooksville Elks Lodge, 14494 Cortez Blvd., west of Brooksville. Varied menu offered. Donations accepted. Angie Balderson, (352) 585-2730, or the lodge, (352) 596-2582.
Brooksville Elks Christmas dinner-dance: 14494 Cortez Blvd., west of Brooksville. Cocktails from 4 to 5 p.m., dinner at 5, followed by dancing to music by Take Two. Dinner choice is ham with pineapple or roast beef. Tickets are $12. Reservations required by Tuesday. Doris Cloman, (352) 796-9784.
Brookridge Social Dance Christmas dance: 7:30 to 10:30 p.m., Brookridge Clubhouse, 8150 Hampton St., Brookridge. Music provided by Mixed Bag. Coffee and ice available throughout the evening. Doughnuts served at about 9:30 p.m. Tickets are $5. Dot, (352) 597-0723.
Candlelight Christmas Tour of Heritage Museum: 6 to 9 p.m., Hernando Heritage Museum, 601 Museum Court, Brooksville. Christmas trees will be displayed in each room, along with candles throughout the old Victorian home. Tickets are $5 each. (352) 799-0129.
Central High School DECA Bowl-A-Thon: Check-in at noon, bowling at 1 p.m., Spring Hill Lanes, 3447 Commercial Way, Spring Hill. $20 per bowler includes three games, shoe rental and lunch. There will be raffles and door prizes. Sponsorships available. Funds raised will help support Central High DECA member Michelle Venezia's national campaign for DECA president. Nick Catroppo, (352) 585-6527 or firstname.lastname@example.com.
Charity Golf Tournament to benefit Lea's Prayers and Postage: 9 a.m., Hernando Oaks Country Club, 5230 Delacroix Drive, Brooksville. The event, presented by Legends Pub and Grill, will include the Pledge of Allegiance with veterans color guards; a moment of silence for all active and fallen soldiers; lunch; all-you-can-drink beer, soda and water; raffles; contests for hole-in-one, putting, longest drive, accuracy and closest to the pin, as well as a hula-hoop contest against one of the Legend Girls. $80 per golfer. (352) 686-8980.
Fairgrounds outdoor flea market: 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., Hernando County Fairgrounds, 6436 S Broad St., Brooksville. Vendors welcome; cost is $10 per day or $15 per weekend. (352) 585-1062.
Festival of Trees: 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., Heffernan Hall, St. Anthony Catholic Church, 20428 Cortez Blvd., Brooksville. Includes vendors, decorated trees, pictures with Santa, entertainment and other activities. (352) 796-6026, (352) 848-7988 or (352) 796-2096.
Floral City Heritage Days 2009: 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., along U.S. 41 south and State Road 48 (Orange Avenue), Floral City. Includes the Blue Banner Tour of Historic Homes ($10 per person), Heritage Hall Museum, demonstrations by local artisans, storytellers, Florida Cracker Cowboy exhibit and demonstrations, food, entertainment and a country store. (352) 650-0013.
Hernando Performing Arts Guild Christmas concert with the New Dawn Singers: 7 p.m., Hernando Performing Arts Center at Hernando High School, 700 Bell Ave., Brooksville. Doors open at 6:30 p.m. Tickets are $25 each. (352) 799-5577.
Hernando Sportsman's Club Gun and Knife Show: 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., Hernando County Fairgrounds, 6436 S Broad St., Brooksville. Includes new, used and antique firearms, knives and accessories. $6 admission; children 16 and younger admitted free with adult. Randie, (352) 799-4446.
Holiday in the Gardens: 9 a.m., Nature Coast Botanical Gardens, 1489 Parker Ave., Spring Hill. Groups will decorate the trees. Refreshments will be provided. There will be a contest for the best-decorated tree. The trees will remain on display through January. More participants welcome. To reserve a tree, stop by the gardens Wednesday or call (352) 683-9933.
"Joy, Joy Joy" Christmas Cantata: 7 p.m., First United Methodist Church, 9344 Spring Hill Drive, Spring Hill. Musical director is Jack Evans. Featuring the 90-voice chancel choir, live orchestra, drama and children's choir. Written by David Clydesdale. An offering will be taken. (352) 683-2600.
Stage West Golden Revue Gala Holiday Cruise: 8 p.m., 8390 Forest Oaks Blvd., Spring Hill. The show features entertainers 50 and older, including dancers, singers, comedians and other entertainment. Tickets are $10. (352) 683-5113.
Standing Tall For Veterans presents Michael Ray in concert: 5 to 8 p.m., on the square in front of Beef O'Brady's, 14136 Seventh St., Dade City.
Walk With the Mayor: 8 to 10 a.m., Tom Varn Park, 306 Darby Lane, Brooksville. Mayor Joe Bernardini will lead a walk through the park and the Quarry Golf Course. Participants will have an option of walking 1.5 or 3 miles. Registration is free; the first 100 to register will get a free T-shirt. Prizes will be awarded to the sportiest "pink" female, best dressed "pink" male and best dressed "pink" child. The event is in support of breast cancer and cancer awareness. (352) 540-3835.
Wine and cheese fundraiser for Ethan Raske: 2 to 5 p.m., Stolte Eye Center, 1115 County Line Road, Spring Hill. Includes refreshments, door prizes, entertainment and a raffle basket worth $150. Proceeds will go to family of 4-year-old Ethan Raske, who needs stem cell treatment. (352) 666-9990.
Winter Craft Sale Flea Market to benefit Central High's Navy JROTC: 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., West Hernando Middle School, parking lot, 14325 Ken Austin Parkway, west of Brooksville. Vendor spaces are $10 each, $15 for two. Santa will be available for free photos from 9 a.m. to noon (bring a camera). All proceeds benefit NJROTC. (352) 279-3969.
Withlacoochee Rockhounds' 35th annual Gem, Mineral and Jewelry Show: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., SNPJ Hall, 13383 County Line Road, Spring Hill. $3 for adults, $1 for teenagers and free for children 12 and younger. Visit withlacoocheerockhounds.com.


text:
Former Missouri State, Saint Louis and UNLV coach Charlie Spoonhour died Wednesday morning in North Carolina. He was 72.
Next to Norm Stewart, no major college basketball coach probably had a greater influence in Missouri than Spoonhour.
At Missouri State _ then Southwest Missouri State _ and Saint Louis University, Spoonhour created winners with a defensive brand called "Spoonball."
Spoonhour nurtured the Bears through their early years of its Division I membership and they never had a losing record in his nine seasons as coach from 1983-92. There were five NCAA Tournament teams and players such as Winston Garland and Kelby Stuckey helped the program win four league championships.
The highlight came in 1987, when Southwest rolled to a 28-6 record and upset Clemson in the first round of the NCAA Tournament. Only Danny Manning's 42 points prevented Kansas from becoming the Bears' second upset victim.
Spoonhour's jump to Saint Louis stunned Springfield in 1992. As a Bears fan put it at the time, "He's an Ozarker coaching in the Ozarks." Indeed, Spoonhour, a native of Mulberry, Kan., attended the University of the Ozarks.
But Spoonhour also loved challenges _ it's why he interviewed for the Kansas job that went to Roy Williams in 1988 _ and the St. Louis Cardinals.
Billikens games became a happening, and after a losing record in his first season, Spoonhour had Saint Louis in the NCAA tournament three of the next five years.
Spoonhour retired after the 1999 season, but returned to the game in 2001, taking over UNLV. It was an odd marriage, the old country coach at glitzy Vegas. Spoonhour guided the Rebels to two NIT appearances and resigned before the end of his third season, turning over the team to his son Jay.
Spoonhour finished with a 373-202 career Division I coaching record. Missouri State and Saint Louis have had one NCAA Tournament season each after Spoonhour left.
"My first year as A.D., we hired Coach Spoonhour, and in my mind I knew he was going to be the most ideal candidate we could have," said Bill Rowe, former Missouri State athletic director. "He was the best thing that could have happened to our program."
Spoonhour, who is survived by his wife, Vicki, and two sons, Jay and Stephen, received a lung transplant in 2010 after being diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.
According to a news release from Missouri State, Jay Spoonhour said his father died peacefully Wednesday morning surrounded by his family and was able to spend his final moments with them at the family's condo near Raleigh-Durham, N.C. He had recently returned home from the hospital.
Arrangements are pending. A moment of silence was to be observed at Missouri State men's basketball game against Wichita State on Wednesday night.
(c)2012 The Kansas City Star (Kansas City, Mo.)
Visit The Kansas City Star (Kansas City, Mo.) at www.kansascity.com
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The risk in titling a book "Astonish Me" is that it won't.
This one doesn't, but it's clear by the end that author Maggie Shipstead, a sometimes Coronado resident, was never aiming for the amazing or the sensational. She's after something deeper.
It's a quietly mesmerizing novel, set in the world of top-level ballet and full of the kind of keen observations about people and relationships that made her first book, "Seating Arrangements," one of 2012's most delightful literary surprises.
"Astonish Me" isn't as funny as that earlier one, which may disappoint readers who enjoyed the satire she used to skewer WASP privilege. It covers some of the same terrain, though — especially the question of what makes love real and lasting — and its truths resonate longer.
About that title: It comes from Sergei Diaghilev, founder of the widely influential Ballets Russes, who used to say it to his dancers. Étonnez-moi. Astonish me. His productions were sensations in Paris in the early 1900s.
Paris is where important things happen in this book, too. It's where Joan Joyce, a ballerina, first sees Arslan Ruskov, a Russian comet of extraordinary brilliance, at a rehearsal. He seduces her with his artistry. She knows she will never be that good.
"All her life," Shipstead writes, "she has wished for more talent, for better feet, longer arms, and the fact that her wish has gone unfulfilled now seems like vindictive cosmic spite."
Joan helps Arslan defect, never quite sure why he chose her for the job, and later when she asks he avoids the question. For a while, anyway. Narcissism is part of his package; the singular focus on greatness doesn't leave much room for empathy.
Arslan and Joan wind up on different sides of the country, with different lives. He's a star, admired and coveted. She's a wife, married to a high school friend who always had a crush on her, and she's a mother. She teaches ballet, too, her own dreams resurrected in her students, one of them her son, another the daughter of neighbors.
The characters twirl in and out of each other's orbits, their dance with art, love and life told in chapters that shift narrators and go back and forth in time and place. It feels a little gimmicky at times, as if Shipstead is staging the story instead of telling it, and it's more confusing than it needs to be. Where are we? What year was that?
What eventually becomes clear, though, is that Joan and Arslan will meet again, bringing their memories and their pain and their ambition with them. And their secrets.
Like the ballet she writes about, Shipstead is an elegant writer, nimble and sophisticated. Here's Joan about a former roommate, also a dancer: "Her impulse is to tell Elaine to find a nice man to marry, but Elaine never will. Joan would not like it if she did. She prefers Elaine to remain fixed in her old life like an obsolete weather instrument gathering data no one ever sees."
Shipstead finds meaning and eloquence in unexpected places, and her observations are sharp and memorable. You don't have to be a fan of ballet to be thrilled by her description of some of the dances, especially one Nutcracker where a key character is more Sugar Plum Fury than Sugar Plum Fairy.
In a U-T San Diego interview last year, Shipstead said she became a writer almost by whim; bored with her job in a law office, she applied to the prestigious Iowa Writer's Workshop and got in, an early hint of her natural gifts.
Her first novel won the 2012 Dylan Thomas Prize, awarded to the best English language book by someone under the age of 30. And now this gem. So much for the sophomore slump.
"Astonish Me," by Maggie Shipstead, Knopf, 288 pages, $25.95


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Talk:Third-party Addons
From Gramps
A lot of these plugins are part of the GRAMPS codebase. Do they really classify as "third-party"? --Lcc 18:09, 12 March 2009 (UTC)
Perhaps "3rd party" is not the best description, but none of these come with gramps (except for Check.py which is an update). They are all extensions of the installed base. Getting source from SVN does give you some, though. --Dsblank 20:15, 12 March 2009 (UTC)
Would it be ok to sort these? I don't see any ordering yet. I'd like to sort them alphabetically at least. --Lcc 02:26, 3 April 2009 (UTC)
They should be in some order. What about by type, then by name? I think that the Plugin Manager Gramplet doesn't care. Just keep the formatting! Thanks --Dsblank 02:43, 3 April 2009 (UTC)


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Win: Squirrel Pack Mini Backpack | Alite Design
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Art Therapy for Psychosis presents innovative theoretical and clinical approaches to psychosis that have developed in the work of expert clinicians...
The ISPS Executive Committee (ISPS EC) is composed of eight members who are elected by ballot, by the ISPS membership, every three years. The current chairperson is Jan Olav Johannessen. The ISPS EC is made up of people with a wide range of interests and experience, all of whom donate their time voluntarily, and all of whom are highly committed to the common aim of advancing education, training and knowledge of mental health professionals in the treatment and prevention of psychotic mental disorders for the public benefit.
Debra Lampshire is an experience-based expert at the University of Auckland and project manager for Auckland District Health Board in New Zealand. Debra is the current chairperson of ISPS-NZ and joined the ISPS Executive Committee in May 2012.
Ingo Lambrecht is a Senior Clinical Psychologist from New Zealand. He works for Maori Mental Health Services ADHB and also has a private practice. He has a long history and strong interest in working with people who have cultural and/or spiritual concerns. Ingo joined the Executive Committee in March 2015.
Jan Olav Johannessen is Professor of Psychiatry at the Faculty of Social sciences at University of Stavanger, Norway. He is chief psychiatrist at the Division of Psychiatry, Stavanger Universtity Hospital. Jan Olav is the current chair of the ISPS Executive Committee and past chair of the ISPS Norway Executive Committee.
John Read is a clinical psychologist and Professor at the University of Swinburne, Australia. He has been a member of the Executive Committee since 2003. John is Editor of the ISPS Journal Psychosis: Psychological, Social and Integrative Approaches.
Julie Kipp is a Clinical Social Worker/Therapist from the USA who works with people who have been given challenging diagnoses including psychotic disorders. She co-chaired the ISPS 2015 congress in New York. Julie joined the ISPS Executive Committee in March 2015.
Klaus Lehtinen is a Psychiatrist and has training in family and psychoanalytic psychotherapy. He has been a member of the Executive committee since 2006. He is the current Treasurer of ISPS and is also co-editor of the ISPS Newsletter.
Margreet de Pater specialises in work with families. As a member of the Executive Committee (2006-present) she is involved in the development of the ISPS website learning tools pages and the email discussion groups.
Rachel Waddingham is a survivor who manages Mind in Camden's London Hearing Voices Project and is also an independent trainer, speaker at conferences and trustee for the UK National Hearing Voices Network. Rachel joined the Executive Committee in March 2015 and is also Vice Chair of ISPS UK.


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Isotope Geology
Out of Print
- Author: Claude J. Allègre, Institut de Physique du Globe de Paris
- Translator: Christopher Sutcliffe
- Date Published: December 2008
- availability: Unavailable - out of print August 2017
- format: Hardback
- isbn: 9780521862288
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Radiogenic and stable isotopes are used widely in the earth sciences to determine the ages of rocks, meteorites and archeological objects, and as tracers to understand geological and environmental processes. Isotope methods determine the age of the Earth, help reconstruct the climate of the past, and explain the formation of the chemical elements in the Universe. This textbook provides a comprehensive introduction to both radiogenic and stable isotope techniques. An understanding of the basic principles of isotope geology is important in a wide range of the sciences: geology, astronomy, paleontology, geophysics, climatology, archeology, and others. Written by one of the world's most respected and best-known geochemists, this full color textbook will be invaluable for all undergraduate and graduate courses on the topic, and is an excellent reference text for scientists. There are problems at the end of each chapter, with password-protected solutions available to instructors at www.cambridge.org/9780521862288.Read more
- Written by a superb, world renowned author
- Includes both radiogenic and stable isotopes
- Comprehensive but accessible: other texts tend to be far too long and advanced
Reviews & endorsements
'A prospective buyer of Allègre's new book on Isotope Geology will immediately want to know if it might supplant the classic and long-time favorite of the similar title by Gunter Faure. While similar in coverage, many recent advances are only to be found in Allegre's more recent book. Importantly, Allègre's book utilizes a novel and very effective use of "worked problems" … an extremely useful pedagogical approach. This textbook will be useful for a wide audience, from undergraduate generalists, to graduate students learning the nitty gritty tools of the trade, to senior practitioners such as myself who need a refresher in some forgotten arenas.'
- Stanley R. Hart, Woods Hole Oceanographic InstitutionSee more reviews
' … written by one of the leading geochemists for over four decades. No stone has been left unturned, whether it comes from the interior of the Earth, from the oceans, or from other planets. It is written in Allègre's unmistakable style, inordinately clear and sharp. Difficult concepts are presented without concession but are made accessible to a broad readership. A bridge between foundations and the cutting edge. A must-have for any classroom and personal library.'
- Francis Albarede, Ecole Normale Supérieure de Lyon
'This book, written by a most prominent geochemist, is an excellent book for anyone (from serious researchers to the upper-level undergraduate students) who wishes to learn the history, principles and applications of isotope geochemistry to geological problems.'
- Hiroshi Ohmoto, Director of the Astrobiology Research Center, Penn State University
'This exceptionally detailed, comprehensive work translated from the original 2005 French edition will be an asset to many readers, given the ever-increasing use of isotopes in the geosciences. ... Geochemist Allègre (Institut de Physicque du Globe de Paris, who has designed the book based on years of thoughtful teaching of the subject, offers and enthusiastically written text ... Allegre provides numerous vignettes on the history of isotope geology, illustrates important concepts through landmark case studies, and provides useful worked problems for students. ...the perfect all-in-one resource on the subject. Highly recommended." - CHOICE
'I can rave about many … aspects of this book. The most striking is Allègre's amazing ability to articulate concepts through simple and elegant figures and prose … Allègre's book represents a long-awaited contribution, which complements those by Faure and Dickin… This book is accessible to all, not just geochemists, but also geophysicists. last, I much prefer the purple-laced Kadinsky cover of the original French edition, as it looks much prettier on my bookshelf.' - Elements
'… written by one of the most recognized and appreciated scientists in the field of geochemistry … Allègre always stays in close connection with geological or cosmic processes, thus making a reader immediately aware of the relevance and significance of isotopes in earth and planetary sciences.' Robert Anczkiewicz, Polish Academy of Sciences, Kraków, Poland
This is one of those all-too-rare books where a prominent scientist captures both the broad historical context of a particular field, along with many facets of current research in the field. ...it is very readable considering the specialized technical subject. It will undoubtedly become a standard text in the field." The Leading Edge
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Product details
- Date Published: December 2008
- format: Hardback
- isbn: 9780521862288
- length: 512 pages
- dimensions: 254 x 178 x 29 mm
- weight: 1.19kg
- contains: 8 b/w illus. 279 colour illus.
- availability: Unavailable - out of print August 2017
Table of Contents
1. Isotopes and radioactivity
2. The principles of radioactive dating
3. Radiometric dating methods
4. Dating by cosmogenic isotopes
5. Uncertainties and results of radiometric dating
6. Radiogenic isotope geochemistry
7. Stable isotope geochemistry
8. Isotope geology and dynamic reservoir analysis
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Giving your RSS feed a little Style (Sheets) can go a long way. Apparently it is not really that difficult either!
As more and more non-techie websites offer syndication feeds, a growing number of non-technical readers are clicking on the links and filling their screens with confusing XML. The current method of subscribing to a feed–copying the URL from the link and pasting it into your newsreader application–isn't obvious to the new user. Filling their screens with markup or malformed text doesn't help endear your readers to your site's new feature.
But syndication content doesn't have to look like geeky markup or malformed text in your browser. You can make it look quite pretty, and give clues to what the feed is actually for. [Read the rest]


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A new scientific report says that food products made from livestock that eat biotech crops do not present a risk to consumers. These are the findings of a three-member task force of the Council for Agricultural Science and Technology.
''Meat, milk and eggs produced by farm animals fed biotechnology-derived crops are as wholesome, safe and nutritious as similar products produced by animals fed conventional crops,'' says John M. Bonner, CAST's executive vice president.
CAST brings together agriculture experts from around the world to assemble, interpret and communicate scientific information and gets funding from its members, which include biotech companies.
The issue paper is part of a series on animal agriculture's future through biotechnology. Richard H. Phipps, chairman of the task force that wrote the paper, says production of biotech crops, including corn, soybean, canola and cotton, has increased dramatically during the last decade, and that biotech crops ''are an important feedstuff in livestock production systems.''
The task force reviewed regulatory assessments on genetically modified crops, looked at results of feeding studies in farm animals and examined what happens when animals consume various proteins and DNA, among other areas. The majority of the information it reviewed was from the late 1990s through last year.
To learn more about the CAST report, go to; http://www.cast-science.org/cast/src/cast_top.htm
CAST news release, Associated Press


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Estimated Time Required: 10 to 14 hours
Estimated Distance: 6.75 miles
Elevation loss: 2500'
Mandatory Rappels: 5
Rating: 4B
Salamander Canyon will most likely leave you with great memories and absolutely no desire to go back. The canyon has at least a dozen nice technical features, beautiful falls, deep pools, interesting formations and challenging down-climbing. However you will pay for the fun. At least two thirds of the travel is a nasty, off trail slog. Despite that, the canyons jewel, 160' Tanrverdi Falls, makes it all worthwhile. It will surely be on every advanced canyoneer's "to do" list soon.
I rated this canyon 4b because it requires difficult and exposed down-climbing, and/or advanced problem-solving and anchor-building skills at peak flows. At least one member of your party should have advanced skills to deal with these challenges. And don't even consider bringing a beginner into this canyon.
The canyon will certainly be the most enjoyable in wet, cooler months. However the shorter winter days will limit the daylight hours so be sure to get a early start. During the summer months the canyon may be dry making the down-climbing significantly easier. But the heat, bugs, stagnate water and ever present poison oak will make your life hell. During the winter be sure to wear a full wetsuit to protect yourself from the elements,(you'll be wet most of the day)debris and the poison oak.
Don't under estimate the amount of time this canyon will consume (as I did). While the canyon is only 6.75 miles long, most of the time your progress will be measured in "hours per mile", not the typical "mile's per hour." Strong canyoneer's should expect to spend 10 hours plus in this canyon, average folks 12 hours plus.
The key to this canyon is efficiently! Remember down-climbing will usually be faster then repelling. Set up simo-raps on the on the smaller waterfalls. Have scouts constantly leap-froging ahead to set up the next rap. And try to limit rest stops to the repels and gear changes. It's going to be a long day, move fast, and try to avoid the pain of doing the lower canyon in the dark.
Getting ThereTake I-5 to Ortega Highway exit( CA 74 )and head east on Ortega Highway about 12.5 miles to the intersection with Hot Springs Canyon Road. Turn left here. Hot Springs Canyon Road is signed as "Lazy W Ranch" and is just west of the San Juan Fire Station and a Park Ranger Station. You'll find a large dirt parking area (the San Juan Trailhead) about 0.7 miles from Ortega Highway, along with bathrooms. A Forest Adventure Pass is required to park anywhere in this area. Drop your recovery car here and head back to the Ortega Hwy.
Parking is not allowed at the Lazy W Ranch and is very limited near the camp's entrance.
Drive east on Ortega hwy until you reach Main Divide Truck Trail (its called a trail, but its a paved road)and turn left there. Follow this road a few miles just past the upper San Juan Trailhead and access the Falcon trailhead from either end . The Falcon Trail is a short trail which connects the Blue Jay and Falcon Campgrounds and can be accessed for either campground.
Head down the trail a couple minutes and you'll see an obvious use trail to the northwest heading down canyon, parallel to the beginnings of the creek. That will take you to the first drop.
Red Tape
A Forest Adventure Pass is required and parking is not allowed at the Lazy W Ranch and is very limited near the camp's entrance.
Section Break DownUpper Canyon – Approximately a mile plus approach on a poor use trail.
Upper Tech Section – Three significant drops close together
Mid-Canyon Slog – Something less then a mile, with a few fun features, but mostly bushwhacking.
Lower Tech Section – Four repels, including the best drop I've done.
Lower Canyon Slog – About three and a half miles of nasty bushwhacking.
Exit Trail – A mile plus of "heavenly easy" hiking back to your car.
Route DiscriptionLeave the Blue Jay or Falcon Campground using the Falcon Trailhead. After only a couple minutes you'll find the Upper Hot Springs Canyon use trail to the northwest and start heading down canyon.
The approach trail could stand to be trimmed back a bit, but you shouldn't have much trouble following it. You'll be getting your feet wet real quick so be prepared. The approach trail bypasses the first fall, Calius's Cascade, and continues down canyon. As you approach the second fall the use trail appears to end. You'll have a choice here: Gear-up and rap into a deep pool or bypass it on an exposed use trail high on canyon right.
Just after the second waterfall you'll enter narrow passage I named Frank's Single Track Rut. The Rut leads you to a short waterfall called Single Track Falls. Building an anchor here will be a challenge. We used a meat anchor and I down-climbed to canyon right. The down-climbing wasn't as bad as it looked, even at the peak water flows we encountered.
In a short distance you'll find the next obstacle, a very sweet, two stage waterfall called Life Raft Falls. The first stage was a 15' low angle cascade that poured off to the right, then fell vertical for another 12' and finished by again cascading left for another 30'. There was a good anchor in place off a tree; also there was an old, braided nylon, fixed hand line there.
During low water flow, skilled canyoneers, utilizing the fixed hand-line at Life Raft falls, may be able to complete the upper and mid sections of this canyon without deploying a rope.
After the three significant falls in the upper technical section you enter the semi-technical mid-canyon section. While this section had several nice down-climbable water features, it was mostly tough travel through a debris clogged, slippery, watercourse. No trail at all, and travel outside of the watercourse was mostly impractical. In this section we down-climbed and /or jumped the 20' Mid-Canyon Falls.
At the end of the mid-canyon slog the canyon opens-up and you'll notice a large drop ahead. You've reached the top of Tanrverdi Falls, the 160' jewel of the canyon and the beginning of the second technical section. This fall is near vertical with one short free section. The water flow was great when we were there. The rap is anchored on a big rock out-cropping just to the left of the falls and requires a short, exposed, and uncomfortable, swing-out onto the face to weight the rope. The repel goes free for a short distance near the top. As you continue to lower you inch closer and closer to the water flow. About two thirds of the way down you move into the water and become completely immersed in the flow by the bottom. I have to say it's the most exciting rap I've ever done! Anywhere!
The big rap was quickly followed by 3 other 20' to 40' raps: Lower Tanrverdi Falls, a short unnamed fall, and Last Falls.
The Lower Tanrverdi Falls anchor, consisting of a rock chock and a knot chock found very high, canyon left/center, was a little dubious. I inspected it, the rock chock was loose, so I reset it. The knot chalk seemed solid in the direction of pull and the two were well equalized. I considered replacing the anchor with a couple pins, but time was starting to run short and we were a little cold so we used the existing anchor.
The next fall had a sun faded, manky, single strand of webbing for an anchor. We quickly replaced it with a new redundant anchor.
The Last falls rap basically had the same simple anchor as the last rap. This time we just used it.
Bad news; you've had only covered 1/3 of the canyon. Good news; all the technical canyoneering of the canyon behind you. Travel in the lower canyon is still very tough. No trail at all and it's seldom that you can put together a few easy steps. Most progress is still in the watercourse where your foot either slides on slippery rock, slips on uneven footing, or gets hung-up on some unseen obstacle. When you do get an opportunity to move to dry land you'll be bolder hoping or bushwhacking.
Towards the end of the day, when you're about a half mile away reaching the Lazy W Ranch, look for an exit trail canyon right. Then continue down the road to the San Juan Trail parking area to recover your car.
Anchors and Bolting
I'd prefer to see the route left wild and natural. Because of the difficultly, length, and with a 4b rating this canyon will never become a trade route for newbie's and noobs. The current anchoring challenges enhance the route for the seasoned canyoneer and bolts will just dumb down the route to a class 3 canyon.
We added a third strand of webbing on the T falls anchor, shortened it a bit, and added a second quick link to expedite the rope recovery. It wasn't that scary swinging out to weigh the rope, and even with the increased lateral forces from the shortened anchor it's still plenty strong.
The anchor on lower Tanrverdi Falls could/should be improved. But the entire area was wet and I was very cold when I was down there. I think in time a better anchor will be devised. And the anchor on Last Falls needs to be replaced and upgraded to a redundant anchor.
Oh!Did I say this is in suburban Orange County!!
LInksLink to trip report


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ITN has appointed Dan Rivers as correspondent at ITV News.
Rivers is senior international correspondent at CNN. He joined the news channel in 2006, covering South East Asia from Bangkok.
Returning to ITN in September, Rivers will be responsible for covering a broad range of news stories and producing special in-depth reports, primarily focusing on Wales and the West of England. He was previously crime correspondent at ITV News.
Rivers can be found tweeting @danieljerivers.


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Believe it or not, I actually love running during the frigid New York City winters! If you're properly prepared it can be a beautiful way to appreciate your city, whether it's decked out in winter white or just cooler and crisper.
Tonight, during our weekly work run club, we discussed the importance of preparation for winter running. While I find that I have more PR's during the winter months than summer months, running in cold weather without taking the proper steps can be plain miserable! Before you head out on your next winter run, check out the below for 5 tips to make your next run more enjoyable!
In addition, if you're looking for some new winter running gear, check out my post on winter running essentials!
Do you prefer winter or summer running?


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Discussion in 'Just Dance' started by lyndwode, Sep 18, 2008.
Any comments? Positive or negative!
Well, I overall enjoyed the congress and I'm still kind of buzzing from it. Depending on my dance partner and our decision, we might be back next year.
But some workshops were a bit too crowded and also I missed some 'intermediate on2' workshops, as nearly everthing was 'advanced on2'. And the party on sunday was at the beginning too crowded so that you had a hard time finding some dancing space. Thankfully the problem got better as times passed. On the positive side I enjoyed the wide offer of workshops, ie. afro-cuban, chacha, etc. Also the DJs and their music selection was fantastic.
i didnt really like the venue on the sunday. although i didnt know there was a third room open . there was also a time period of at least 45 minutes (maybe an hour) with no salsa in any room - when the rap music was played downstairs, upstairs the music was merengue/bachcata - maybe the dj's could have been in touch? but it did end up being my best dancing night (after 2am). these are only minor points as i really enjoyed the congress
I really enjoyed the congress! It was well organized and I felt taken care of in terms of directions, maps etc. All the volunteers seemed pretty friendly and helpful too.
As opposed to nowhiteshoes I liked the location on Sunday. It was a little crowded at first but after all rooms were opened I liked the fact that I could wander around the different rooms with different music.
And as chrisk had already said, I also felt that some of the workshops were too crowded but I guess that's often the problem with popular workshops/teachers.
Yes the problem with overcrowding was quite obvious in some classes we are looking at new locations for next year, but it is just so nice there !!! Unfortunately, the Sunday party is just the "regular" sunday night party + the congres people. There were the local DJs upstairs and the congress DJs downstairs. We have no influence on that, and they have no connection, unfortunately...the other room was awsome, Mauri announced it, but since he had no microphone, not everyone heard it I left as well, when Mauri started with the Hip hop/Indie thing, but just cause I was beat, and had to start a new job on monday! I was told that the party went on till around five, till the location manager had to throw everyone out! Crazy! It was still full!
yeah the music was awsome after the hip hop, that and the dances were probably the highlight of my weekend
Separate names with a comma.