In My Not So Humble Opinion

I'm a beta tester!

2008-03-18T18:39:00.002-07:00

I was accepted as a beta tester quite some time ago, for software and computer goodies. I've enjoyed it immensely. So, what has me so excited at this new beta testing opportunity? It's for the geek's elixir of the gods...coffee. Nothing could be better. I am so excited to have the opportunity to test this out. (More coming soon, I hope!)

This has got me thinking about other exciting possibilities. So, I'll put it out there for anyone else who is looking for a beta tester. I'll give special preference to chocolate, dark chocolate, chocolate with caramel, chocolate with caramel and nuts, and of course, anything from the other, less important food groups (you know, the healthy stuff).

The rest of the secret

2008-02-25T21:14:00.002-07:00

The excitement around "The Secret" is waning, because people are finding that just chanting "I love money and money loves me" doesn't do anything. They're all disillusioned because something magical and mystical is supposed to happen if you just will it into being. These people have missed the whole point.

When you decide what you want, and put energy toward it, you've just started the process. You're creating a mindset that makes the dream possible. It is now up to you to act accordingly. That means, when you recognize the opportunities that arise, you need to do something with them. It's not that the opportunities wouldn't be there if you hadn't "put energy to it", it's that by determining what you want, and staying on task, you will now recognize those opportunities for what they are.

It's not about sitting back and waiting.

I talk to some people who say, "Wow, I said I wanted X, and now, look, here is the opportunity to get it!" Like they willed it into existence. It's more practical than that. Say, for example, you want to move somewhere else. You have a particular place in mind. So, you start looking for houses there, start reading the want ads. You find a couple of houses there BECAUSE you're putting action to your affirmation. You find an amazing dream job to apply for, BECAUSE you put action into looking for that job. You get offerred the job BECAUSE you spent years building up your resume, connecting with the right people, and because you put yourself in a position to find it.

Had you not wanted to move to that area, you wouldn't have found that dream job there. It's almost too simple for some people to understand. It's about making an affirmation, putting your soul into it, and taking action to see it through.

While I'm at it, here's another thing to chew on.

It occurred to me tonight as I was deep in thought (after registering for Trump University) that if you say, “If I had a ton of money, I wouldn’t change anything." Or, "I wouldn’t do anything different.” You know what that means to me? You don’t really want the money, or you don’t really need it. In order to get money, you need to create space for money to grow, and a reason for it to be there. So, something HAS to change. The next time you’re thinking about attracting wealth, think about what it will do for you. What opportunities it will bring. How your life will change. Then it has a purpose for being. And you'll have a reason to do what you need to do to get it.

Limelife on You Tube

2008-02-07T21:25:00.000-07:00

I posted about my nephew's band (Phil is the drummer) on Dec. 2. They were in a contest run by Rock 98.7, for best video, and they ended up in 2nd place. Not bad. Now their video is back up on You Tube, so you can see for yourself how awesome they are, and that they should have won! Here you go

I am walking!!!!

2008-01-24T15:16:00.000-07:00

After 4 1/2 months of non-weight bearing, keeping my right foot aloft while ambulating via crutches or rollabout knee walker, I am finally allowed to put my foot down. Literally. I am, as of 9:00 this morning, walking with a walking boot. Sweet freedom!

Giant Dancing Condoms

2008-01-24T11:19:00.000-07:00

I do't know what to say, other than it's the best laugh I've had all day.

Beck Surgery Goes "Horribly Awry"

2008-01-04T11:54:00.000-07:00

By now, you've probably seen the Glenn Beck video on YouTube: VIDEO: Beck from the dead. He, like me, and so many of other unfortunate victims, fell prey to some bad doctors, and will be talking about his experience on his show this coming Monday. It's about time someone in the limelight shares a story of bad doctors and the ways they nearly kill us.

If you want to hear his story, you can find the station in your area that airs his radio show, here: http://www.glennbeck.com/content/radio/. His television show airs nightly on Headline News at 7, 9 ET. I'll be tuning in. I want to hear what happened to him, and who nearly killed him. It's time to start naming names.

In case you've lost the link, here's the story of the doctor who nearly killed me: http://tameirahollander-nearlykilledmywife.com

In the "good to know" department

2007-12-13T21:52:00.000-07:00

FYI: If you have a cast on your leg for three months, the hair will grow about 29/32". Or at least, mine did.

Another great video from Limelife

2007-12-02T21:22:00.000-07:00

View it on Rock 98.7

If you like the band, the music, or the video, vote for them here: http://star987.com/pages/rockstar2/voting1st.php

Why aren't these guys famous already? They're a great, fun band.

Officer sues for broken knee

2007-10-12T15:12:00.001-07:00

You've heard the story by now: Baby falls into pool, mother calls 911, officer slips in the water on the floor that dripped off the poor child, and intends to sue the family for not cleaning up the water before she got there.

The attorney, the gentle, kind soul that he is, said, "It's a situation where the Cosmillos have caused these problems, brought them on themselves, then tried to play the victim," he said.

Right.

I can't get a malpractice attorney to take my case because I didn't die. Now I know why. They're all busy suing grief-stricken parents.

Since the law will not punish the doctor who poisoned me (IMHO, giving two conflicting medications is poisoning) I'm taking things into my own hands. I'll post the URL to a new website, giving people helpful information that should help them to stay away from the incompetent care of doctors such as the one who couldn't be bothered to figure out what was truly wrong with me, as soon as it's ready. In the meantime, feel free to stop by the site my husband created: http://tameirahollander-nearlykilledmywife.com, where he tells the ugly tale from his POV.

Twitter

2007-09-28T15:12:00.001-07:00

Do we really need to know what everyone else in the world is doing right this minute? Evidently so. Right now, I'm typing with a purring kitty on my lap. She's trying really hard to interrupt my productivity. Must stop and pet her, that's the fuel that keeps the purr motor running.

I am hooked on you tube

2007-08-23T22:52:00.000-07:00

After watching every (or all I could stand) of the Chocolate Rain videos, I headed over to Linkin Park (my current favorite band) and watched all their videos. And then, cool, here's a video of my nephew's band: Limelife. Good music, and a fun video. Please say something nice.

Chocolate Rain

2007-08-16T20:57:00.001-07:00

It's been awhile since my last post. Not that nothings been happening; quite the opposite. Too much to talk about.

But I had to stop a minute to talk about Chocolate Rain. I don't get the popularity of the youtube video, actually. It's a love it or hate it kind of thing, and I'm stuck right in the middle. I think it's a terrible song, and an unspired video, but I think it takes a lot of guts to do your own thing and put it out there for public critique.

There are a couple of parodies, however, that are priceless. Like:

When I first heard about the song, but hadn't seen the video yet, I thought chocolate rain was about raining, you know...chocolates. Imagine my disappointment. I guess, because of that, the first parody is my favorite.

Boner

2007-02-15T10:28:00.000-07:00

I have two girl dogs, Flipper and Simba.

Flipper is an old girl, probably 11-12 years or so. She was fully grown when we saved her from certain death at the dog pound, so her age is approximate. She moves like an old lady; slowly and with complaints. She's loyal and protective, and loves nothing better than a long walk with a treat at the end.

Simba is five. We got her from the pound as a puppy. She was all the things a puppy should be: small, adorable, wiggly and full of energy. Her companionship has kept Flipper young, or at the very least, has given her a friend to keep life interesting. Simba loves to play ball with a passion that overrides all other needs and desires. She will fetch and return the ball until she drops from exhaustion.

Simba's least redeeming quality is that she loves to eat poop. Fresh-from-the-factory steamers are her favorite, although she won't turn her nose up at something that is a day old, if the weather is warm enough to keep it fresh. She's sweet and friendly - just don't let her lick your face.

One thing they agree on is bones. They love their bones. Big, disgusting dead cow knuckle bones are their favorites. Bringing home a couple of fresh bones is just like doggie Christmas. They'll chew on those suckers until there's nothing left but a couple of shards.

The girls seem to have a real affection for this latest bone. I wonder what makes it so special? Hmmm...

Wall nipple

2007-02-01T22:25:00.000-07:00

	Funny, the things you notice when you're sitting naked under a paper gown.

Cold Feet, er... foot

2007-01-28T17:30:00.000-07:00

I don't know why this initially struck me as odd. Weirder still is that I took the time to take a picture.

I wonder what happened to the owner of this shoe. It was a cold day; not a good one for going barefoot. There was snow on the ground outside.

How long would it take to discover the shoe was gone? Surely the height disparity from left to right would be noticeable right away.

Perhaps the owner changed her clothes, or at least shoes before heading out into the cold.

If you're missing a size 7 black pump with a 2-2/2" heel, I can tell you where you left it. It's still there, one week after the first sighting. If it moves, I'll let you know.

Nice Cold Beer!

2007-01-16T20:32:00.000-07:00

In case you missed it, we've been getting a LOT of snow lately. It's piled up in big heaps everywhere. It has caused school closings, and businesses to lose big gobs of cash from people staying home to keep warm. It hasn't, however, slowed things down at Denver's Old Hole. Even when the furnace went out.

We were there Friday, and the temp was a nice, crisp 47 degrees. Inside. People stayed bundled with coats, hats and gloves, and the beer kept flowing. At least we didn't need to worry about the beer getting too warm.

I took a couple cellphone pics for evidence. They're a little blurry. I was shivering just a bit.

The poster in the girl's can kind of summed up the quality of the group that usually hangs there. I thought DUI laws might interfere with such a promotion, but what do I know?

Oh yeah, I figured you'd ask about the bananas. Let's not go there.

No Dead Babies

2007-01-06T23:44:00.000-07:00

Behind the Starbucks at 8th and Colorado in Denver are some dumpsters. Don't know if they are for Starbucks, or one of the other businesses on the block. It might help to mention that they are within walking distance to the U of C Medical Center. I don't know how to comment on the dumpsters themselves. Take a look for yourself.

Happy New Year, Happy Feet

2007-01-02T21:36:00.000-07:00

I suffer from near-terminal cold feet. That's why this Christmas gift is my favorite.

Big, purple feet make me feel like a muppet, though.

If I were going to be a muppet on purpose, I think I'd rather be Statler or Waldorf. You know, the cranky guys in the balcony.

I'm almost there, except I'm not a puppet or a guy, or quite that old. I'm not even in a balcony. The cranky I have down pat.

See Dad, I told ya

2006-12-22T21:51:00.000-07:00

We got dumped on, as I mentioned in my previous post. Didn't hear the usual phone call from Dad: "How's the snow up there?", so I called and left him a voicemail. 24 hours later, he called. Never heard the message, but as predicted he asked about the snow. So we're now on the same page. I have snow, and I've admitted it to him.

It wasn't a little snowstorm, either. I think we got 30" of the stuff. Here's some pictures to prove it. With more snow on the way this weekend, a White Christmas is guaranteed.

Woo hoo.

Yep, we have snow

2006-12-20T20:53:00.000-07:00

We have lots and lots of snow. Big, heaping drifts. Could barely open the back door so the dogs could go out to pee. Not that they wanted to go out there, but I was in no mood for the alternative. They walked out the back door, turned right back around and looked at me, like, You have got to be kidding.

I'm in Colorado, so snow is nothing new. It's just that, unless you live in the mountains, the snow doesn't stick around. Try telling that to my dad.

Every time it snows, Dad calls from Texas: "How's the snow up there?" And, of course, by the time he calls, it's gone. I tell him that, and he doesn't believe me. I think he thinks I'm either nuts and just can't see it, or lying for some reason. Like now I'm old enough to not get in trouble for telling a fib.

So, today's the day. Snow everywhere. "State of Emergency" and all that. Everything is closed. Even Super Walmart, and they never close.

I know he's sitting in his leather la-z-boy watching the weather channel. The phone still hasn't rang. I'm ready to tell him stories about going out to the store for food in case we get snowed in. I can share tales of the idiot drivers who think they should speed up when they start to slide. I can even mention the hundreds of people stranded at the airport.

I'm going to miss my chance. He'll call in a couple of days when the skies are clear again. So, here's a picture out my back door, just in case he asks. I took it before the snow started getting serious.

Happy now, Dad?

Hair today, gone tomorrow

2006-12-18T08:58:00.000-07:00

My recent hospital escapade has had an effect on my hair. According to the dermatologist, the stress my body went through caused all my hair to go into a "rest" phase at the same time. He said that I should start to notice significant regrowth in 6-12 months.

I've never had a full head of hair. It's always been baby-fine and thin. It didn't strain the eyes to see my scalp underneath. Now, the scalp is taking over.

I have this very thin spot in back, which my husband lovingly refers to as a "monkey butt." (For those who didn't catch the reference - think: babboons)

If I go entirely cue ball, I have a great many options. I'm not into wigs, scarves or hats. I think I'll paint my head like an easter egg.

Here's some good ones:

I'm still not sure how I'm going to fit my head in the mug.

Maybe I'll just do foil.

To Hell and Back

2006-12-03T23:38:00.000-07:00

I just looked in here to see how long it's been since I posted. Seven months. Wow. It's been a long, long time. As I share, briefly, my journey between the last post and this one, I hope it helps at least one other person. Maybe that person will be you, or someone you love. It might even save a life. I hope so. This is not a light-hearted post, so if you're looking for a smile, you'll want to leave now.

Two days after I made my last post, I was poisoned. Not deliberately, or with malice (as far as I know). I was poisoned by an incompetent, worthless excuse for a doctor. She was my doctor for a couple of years, so she knew me and my history. She knew all the medications I was on. They were written into the chart every time I saw her. Nevertheless, she prescribed a drug that is NEVER supposed to be prescribed at the same time as one I had been taking for years. When she prescribed the new drug, I asked her specifically about interactions. She said not to worry; there were none.

She was very wrong. That one error, and the errors she compounded on top of that one nearly killed me. Literally and completely.

Over the course of the next 2 1/2 months, the new medication slowly increased the blood level of the original medication to a dangerous, and then critical level. I went back to see her several times complaining of extreme fatigue. She ordered a sleep study, and then a CPAP machine. It didn't help, because the sleep problem was caused by the new medication she had me on. She never considered that as a cause, even though I asked.

I complained of diarrhea and nausea. She recommended Immodium and a bland diet. My condition continued to worsen. Even though diarrhea, nausea and extreme fatigue were indicators of dangerous blood levels of the medication I had been on for years, she never saw the signs.

In June, after the worthless sleep study, my husband went to my appointment with me, to share his concerns with the doctor. He told her that my brain function was affected. I was having problems tracking conversations, and my reaction time was so slow, I was no longer able to drive. She said to give the CPAP machine 90 days to straighten everything out.

At the end of July, after several worthless appointments with the doctor, my husband demanded I be seen right away because I was so weak I couldn't stay out of bed for more than an hour or two at a time, and all my symptoms had advanced to where I could no longer keep any food down, and I had constant diarrhea. I couldn't take care of myself, couldn't walk up and down stairs, couldn't even sign my own name.

When I was seen by a Physician's Assistant, she determined I was extremely dehydrated, and decided I must have a "bug." I stayed in their office the better part of the day while they administered intravenous fluids. At the end of the liter of fluids, she asked if I'd like another, as if she was a waitress asking if I'd like a drink refill. Since I was feeling somewhat better (not completely, but at that point not at death's door) she sent me home with prescriptions for compazine and lomotil, and ordered bedrest. She said I should call the next day, Friday, for results of the blood tests they ran. She repeated that several times, stating that if I wasn't feeling better, or if the results indicated something wrong, I should be seen in the office on Friday, so as not to need to go to the Emergency Room over the weekend.

No one would return our calls on Friday. I called for results, and so did my husband. No one called back while the office was open. My husband called the answering service that evening and insisted that they have the doctor call me asap, as I was not feeling any better.

The doctor called that evening and said they didn't have the results yet. We have since learned that that was a lie. Since I told her I was not feeling any better, she told me to double up on the medications they had ordered.

I did, and went to bed. What happened next is a hell that I hope no one ever goes through.

During the night, I went into a delirium. My brain, so swollen in reaction to the poison in my system no longer registered rational thought.I didn't recognize my surroundings. I believed I was being held captive. Any noise outside the room was interpreted as sounds of my captors. I was more frightened than I had ever been before. It was only going to get worse.

The next morning, Saturday, my husband, who was at work, called the doctor's office and insisted that someone call me with test results, and determine what needed to be done next. When the doctor called me, she said she didn't have the results, but my husband had insisted she call me. She asked me to come to her office to see her. In my delirium, I was convinced that my husband was dead, and I told her so. The only thing this butcher did right during this entire ordeal was to call 911 and have the police check on me.

The police came, saw the condition I was in, got in touch with my husband, and called an ambulance. My system was so toxic when I got there, a toxicologist was called in to consult on my case.

I was hospitalized for 3 weeks. During that time, my kidneys failed, my lungs filled with fluid, and my heart slowed to a near full stop. The called a Code Blue on me. I was put on a respirator. I had a heart catheterization. They were pumping so many drugs into my heart to keep it going that they put a "direct line" in my neck that went straight to my heart. I had tubes going into and out of places all over my body. And during it all, because my brain swelled in reaction to the poisoning, in my mind I was in Auchwitz.

The doctors and nurses in the hospital were wonderful. Because of them, I lived. I learned to talk again, and walk again, and take care of myself. My husband was a rock. He showed me his love that is too deep to measure. He was constantly by my side. Because of him, I made the journey back from the hell in my mind. I owe him my sanity.

In the final accounting, there are scars that will be with me for a long, long time.

In the still of the night, when I'm waiting for sleep, all those things that I know absolutely didn't happen, come back to me in a flood. And they feel as real as I had originally believed them to be.

What I tell you next is what I believe to be the most outrageous.

The "doctor" who doesn't deserve the title was removed from my care the day I went into the hospital. Five days later, when my husband was finally able to take a moment to call their office to demand the test results that were never provided to me, and to reinforce that she was not my doctor, this woman had the audacity to call the hospital to demand my records. She called immmediately upon hanging up from speaking to him, claimed she was my physician, and demanded that my records be sent to her. She said that my husband was "very upset that he hasn't been kept advised of his wife's condition and care." This was more than an outright lie; it was a criminal act. She lied about being my doctor. She stole my medical records for what I can only believe were for her use to cover her ass.

This call of hers opened the floodgates. Before her call, no records were sent. From that point on, and long after my discharge, this doctor continued to receive copies of my records, and initialled them as they were placed in my chart in her office. She knew she wasn't supposed to get them, yet she did nothing to stop them from being sent to her. Of course not; she asked them to be sent, in violation of HIPAA law.

Once home from the hospital, we ordered copies of my medical records. Interesting to note, she never wrote in the chart that she prescribed the offending med. Or she removed the notation. The only record is the copy of the original script that we obtained from the pharmacy. The test results that "never arrived" were actually there before their office opened Friday morning. She made notes in my chart about the dangers of my medication interaction after the fact. This was evidenced by what she, and her office wench said to the 911 operator.

Their office staff lied when my husband asked them about the call to the hospital. They lied when he asked them about the records being sent to their office. They also lied and said they wouldn't charge us for the office call that Thursday. They actually had the nerve to send the bill to our insurance company, and then lied and said they never said they wouldn't charge us. Then lied some more.

We have filed complaints with our insurance company, the state medical board, every agency that may have any interest, and nothing has been done to make this doctor, her supervisor, or anyone involved responsible for any of the willful or careless acts committed. Malpractice is one thing; the practice has insurance to cover that. Criminal misrepresentation and theft of private records is another.

If you live in Arapahoe County, Colorado you may come in contact with this person. She's licensed to practice Internal Medicine. But this can happen anywhere.

Don't trust your doctor on face value. Research every medication they prescribe before you take it. Research every side effect, containdication, and things to watch for. If things seem to be going from bad to worse, get another opinion. Your life may very well depend on it.

Is that fair?

2006-05-02T10:50:00.000-07:00

I lost 3 pounds when they took out my gallbladder. Doesn't seem like enough. My daughter and I agreed that when they remove anything, it should count for a weight loss of at least 10 pounds, just to make it worth it. If they take out my thyroid (which I sincerely doubt, but results are pending), it won't even be a half a pound. If they can't do better than that, I'm keeping it.

B

What are you afraid of?

2006-04-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

Some things that frighten me:

High places.
The reason: I'm pretty sure I'll lose control and jump. Or I'll lose my balance and fall. But mostly the jumping thing. I've heard the story time and again of how my uncle threw me into the air when I was an infant and alsmost didn't catch me. Sounds like a good basis for fear.

Falling.
Really a subcategory for high places. But I also fear falling on ice in winter, falling when walking up or downhill, and falling on slippery floors when I'm wearing nice shoes and nice clothes, and everyone will see me fall.

Driving on bridges over large spans of water.
It feels as if I will fall through. Especially if the bridge is made of wood, or has spaces where I can see between to the water below. I don't even like walking over cattle grates or grates in the sidewalk. I'm pretty sure they won't hold my weight and I'll fall through.

Spiders.
I'm getting better. I used to freak out so bad I couldn't function, and then have icky dreams for days after seeing a spider. Now I think they are repulsive, but I still wouldn't be in a room with a spider on purpose.
But then, my mind says...
How about when a spider drops from the ceiling by a thread, right in front of your face?
Or when you are outside and a spider thread goes across your face or body, so you don't know if that was the middle, or the end, meaning a spider crash-landed on you?
Or how about when you put on a jacket you haven't worn for awhile, and there's a spider in the sleeve?

One time when I was a kid (don't these things always start there?) I picked up an ice cube tray to drink the water from it. It was one of those copper trays where you pulled the handle up on the aluminum cube-separator thingy to break the cubes apart. Someone had taken the cubes and left the tray on the counter. The residual ice chips had mostly melted, so it was nice, frosty water. As I started to drink, I saw a spider doing the backstroke. Eeesh.

Spiders aren't the only creepy bugs, by the way. Last year, I left my gardening gloves out on the deck rail. When I put them on, I squished a yellow-jacket in one finger. It still makes me feel creepy to think about it. I never ever leave gloves outside any more. I have also been known to hammer them a time or two to make sure nothing is alive inside.

Pain.
Not just that I will have pain, because I live with pain every day. But the fear comes from not knowing if the pain will ever stop.

Common Scary Things that don't frighten me:

Death.
Either mine or a stranger's. (Although I don't want any friends or loved ones to die) I don't like seeing mangled bodies or watching people die, but being dead is no big deal.

Snakes.
I respect the poisonous ones, but the rest are just slithery things. Not slimy, either, BTW. Although some smell pretty bad, that's not scary. And as long as I pay attention and don't piss them off, they won't bite me. (Please don't tell me I'm wrong.)

Things that alternately frighten me and piss me off:

Abuse of power.
This isn't limited to our elected officials. It's anyone and everyone who fights to curtail free speech, to limit our freedom to choose, or to exercise control over others to their own gain.

Stupid people.
Seems like a silly thing to be afraid of, but in my mind, stupid people are responsible for most of the daily crap that accumulates around us. They do stupid things like cut people off in traffic, engage in road rage. They say stupid things like "I'm not prejudiced, that (insert minority group) shouldn't be allowed to live. Everybody knows they (Pick one or several:) breed like rats, use up all our government aid, are ungrateful, have no morals." Etc. Wars start because of stupidity. Wars continue because of stupidity. Gangs, hate crimes, domestic violence, in fact, violence of all sorts, looting, cheating, the list goes on. All these things are the result of some stupid asshole not using his brain for its intended purpose, and doing just as he pleases without considering the consequences to himself or others.

Let's find these stupid people and give him an education. Perhaps that's something they should be afraid of.

Hey Doc, did you miss something?

2006-04-12T09:50:00.000-07:00

I've been going through GI troubles for about 20 years, maybe more. No one ever checked my gall bladder. I've taken pretty blue pills, the purple pill, pink pills, green pills, and an assortment of colors I don't recall. I've drank gallons of pepto-bismol, maalox, milanta, etc. I keep a box of immodium in each bathroom, and my purse. The list goes on and on. Turns out any or all of the previous symptoms could be due to a very sick gallbladder. The multiple lesions and adhesions most likely began years before the gallstones started forming.

There's the chest pain, back pain, shoulder pain and neck pain that has been bothering me for several years, which also goes along with gall bladder problems. I've had upteen series of physical therapy, that didn't do the trick.

I've spent thousands of dollars on treatments that didn't fix the problem. My insurance companies over all this time have paid even more. I can't believe no one took a closer look at the real problem.

Now, the gall bladder may not have been the only cause. But it certainly was a cause. I'm not angry or vengeful, but I am frustrated that I was so ill for so long for no reason.

I am thankful for how well I feel now. Even with the post-op disomfort (aka: pain) I feel much, much better.