Semester 6.2

I really hope this works, because I've been having some serious problems with Blogger lately.

I consider it a miracle that I got 2 A's again this semester. My Copywriting class was great.
Here are some of the positive comments I got from my instructor in regards to my important Scrapbook Assignment (a collection of all the assignments we did over the semester):
Nice presentation. Outstanding effort. Good bite words. A natural ability to use words. Able to lead reader in. Able to play up benefits. A knack for copy. Good words-broke information down into easily read chunks. Love the headlines-Yearn to learn (one of the sub-heads I used). That's what parents want to hear (for the kid's school assignment). Very good sub-heads. Looks like you enjoy copy and the challenge of copy. Words come easy. Magazine is much better! It is readable. Love the catalog description.
You really worked on your copy. You put the process to work and guess what? It worked.
Super student. Good job, Kerry. You should continue to pursue your copy skills and ideas.

She is right: I love to write copy. I've been doing it for so long it's almost natural for me. I'd love to get a job where I am writing copy for other people. In the class they taught that someone who can write good copy can make more money than a regular Graphic Designer. And a Graphic Designer who can make copy is an Art Director.
That's what I would love to aim for. That would be great.

I did not do so well, at least I thought so, with the Print Production class.
We had little quizzes every 2 weeks that were worth 10 points. But like I learned in the 1st semester 10 points can make a big difference between an A and an A-. Part of the problem was miscommunication in the questions. I did the reading and understood the material that I read but the way some of the questions were worded got lost in translation.
Some of them were just dumb mistakes. We had one question where the instructor said, "If you miss this one...", meaning none of us should miss it. I missed it - because my eyes skipped over 1 word. Changed the whole meaning of the question so I got it wrong.
A lot of the problem was also anxious impatience. I wanted to hurry and take the quiz to prove that I knew the info. In my haste I made dumb mistakes like the last example and also didn't give myself time to think out the answer.
But in the end the quizzes didn't hold me back. What held me back... was surgeries. 4 of them.

First, my dad had been complaining for 3 months that his back and ribs were hurting him. Mom told him to go to the doctor and get a CAT scan. He went into the doctor but they gave him an X-ray instead. Dad didn't argue, saying an X-ray was cheaper, anyway.
They said he had a rib out, which he assumed was from coughing. He had caught a really bad flu from one of his grandkids that was quickly turning into pnumonia. He said that as he and mom were watching tv one night he let out a big cough and felt a pop in his back. He was sure that was the rib going out. The doctor gave him some instruction and he left alone.

However, 3 months later it was still hurting and getting worse. Mom made him go back in again and told him to tell the doctor to give him a CAT Scan, not an X-ray. Dad had to fight with them a bit because they provided other options but he finally got the CAT scan.
Turned out dad had a major cancer growth on one of his spine's vertebrae. It had practically eaten almost all of the bone away and was working on nearby bone.
Dad went in for immediate surgery. We were all on pins and needles but it turned out positively. The doctor said a few years ago they would have told him that he had 2 to 3 years left to live. Now, the possibility was as good as 10 years. The surgeon told him that they'll work to keep him alive to die to something else. It was a joke intended to be taken in good humor, which we did.
I went and visited my dad in the hospital. He was fine when I walked in and was telling his nurse the different projects I was in and such. Then they gave him some medicine. Then they added something to his morphine drip. Then they gave him some more medicine. What I was hearing my dad say and how he was saying it I'd never heard from him before. It was quite unreal, given his candor, elegence, and proper refinement. It sure didn't seem like my dad.
He eventually dropped off to sleep and I did my homework. I stayed until other family arrived, gave them my report, and left for school.
Unfortunately, I got caught in major traffic jam due to construction. I got to school just in time to turn in the assignment I finished at the hospital.

My dad is back home now and doing well enough. However, the chemotherapy is making him as sick as a dog. After the surgery but before the chemo he went back to working on the house and yard, feeling well enough to have put in a full 8 hour day of work. Now, he sits all day and hates it all.
He is under strict no-lifting or working rules and every day he is just trying to get by.
His spirits are up, though, and has seen these trials as some major faith building situations. We all hope he is able to get through the chemo well and back onto the road of some great recovery.
I recommended blue-green algae to my mom, which has been monumental in helping to keep my lypoma count down. I've fought with the little brutes most of my adult life. My eldest brother has, also. They are random cancer-like growths that develop randomly throughout my body and over time can cause some real pain. The products with blue-green algae help to support a higher stem cell count, which in turn, helps to not only support healing but also better cellular nutrition. However it works exactly, it has been only thing I've found that has functioned to keep my lypomas down without expensive surgery.
Time will tell if mom will adhere to any of my nutritional advice. I've been giving it, and having it be ignored, for years. Kinda like what I did to them as parents when I was a kid.

Secondly, my wife and I had bought a new treadmill over the weekend and had an adventure getting it home. We had our son in the car seat when it tipped over and threatened to squish him in his seat. My wife had to climb back there while I was driving and fight to get it off of him. She said she couldn't lift it when it was on the ground but somehow she managed to get it all set up so we could get home safely. It didn't help when the guy in front of us slammed on his brakes, forcing me to swerve into the next lane to hit him. We all could've been killed. I am very grateful that nothing bad happened. Especially since we were in her parent's van. The treadmill wouldn't fit in our vehicle.

I ran on the new treadmill that night and it really did me in. I thought my core muscles were hurting just because they had not been worked on for so long.
I stayed home from church the next day, not because I hurt, but because I had homework to do. I was already behind in the Print Production class on assignments and I wanted to make them up. So I was redoing many of my old assignments as well as finishing up my current assignment. I took me a good part of the day but I finished them all. I'm glad, too.
The next day's morning started out fine. I got to work ok and started my work but as I continued on the pain got worse. Two hours into the day I got the impression that I had to go home. I was shriveled up at my desk as I waited for the response to come by email from my supervisor that I could leave.
As I drove home it hurt too much to push on the pedals. I knew that if someone slammed on their brakes ahead of me again I would not be able to stop. The best I could manange on the freeway was to get it up to 40 MPH so that I could turn on the cruise control.
As I got off the exit there was a large diesle in front of me. I felt that I needed to follow the diesle but instead I decided to go down a side street so that I wouldn't have to wait for it. The side street was loaded with pot-holes. Every small little jolt sent shockwaves of pain through my gut. I didn't even have my foot on the accelerator; I just crawled through.
As I got home my pain was at level 10 and I had tears streaming down my face. I curled up in a ball on the bed after my wife took off my shoes and pants. My belt and pants were killing my gut like crazy. Still believing that it was just sore muscels I asked my wife to get me a heating pad.
Fortunately, she was smarter than that.

First, she called her mom, who used to be a CNA. Then she called her sister who had also been through similar problems. She then looked online for some quick answers. Finally she called our doctor.
When she came in and pushed gently on my abdomen I groaned in pain. She decided to take the doctor's advice: go immediately to the Emergency Room. My wife called her dad and off we went.
We were not there long when they got me hooked up on some fun-lovin' morphine. That's when I realized I didn't know what pain was.
After a few tests later it came back positive: appendicitis.
I was falling asleep like crazy; pain, drugs, and recuperation will do that to you. But I had homework that had to be turned in. I made my wife write down the instructions of what to take to my instructor that night to turn in. She said she'd hurry because she wanted to be back before I went in for surgery.
I was up in my room for 2 hours when they told me I had to wait for another 2. I was sure my wife would be back by then as I gave her mom a call. They immediately then came in and said they changed their mind-they were ready for me now. I gave the message to my wife's mom and they hurried me to surgery.

I woke up in recovery feeling much better already. Donna had successfully dropped off all of the homework and had been waiting for me to wake up.
I stayed the night, which was a few avalanches short of a bad dream, and about half of the day before they finally released me.
They said they had caught the appendicitis early, which was good. I asked them how long it takes to develop. One nurse told this story: a lady came in on Thursday and they couldn't find anything. By Saturday it had ruptured. I considered it a miracle that for me they found something but in the early stages. If they had sent me home I don't know what I would have done.

I was to not do any heavy lifting for 30 days (4 weeks) but I could return to work when I felt up to it. The timing was actually pretty good: it was coming up on finals. So, since I was stuck at home all day anyway I got to focus on homework. It just took me a week to get to that point. In between: lots of movies and lots of sleeping. By the time I could get to the computer it was only four hours at a time here and there.

I went in for surgery on Monday and came home Tuesday night. That weekend I was signed up to show my game at a local fantasy convention down the street from us. It almost killed me but I went anyway. I had someone to help me, gratefully. There was a lot to carry.
I learned then that I could only do things for 4 hours at a time. After that: crash and burn.
When I tried to go back to school the next week I had a similar experience. I went to meet with the Career Services counselor, Life Drawing lab, and run 2 errands. By the time class was about to start I was DONE. I had to tell the Copywriting instructor and then went home just as class was about to start.

By my third week I was back to work part time but moving very slowly. By week 4 I was back to work full time and going to school.

On the last day of Print Production class I asked the instructor what my grade was. She looked it up and told me B+. I accepted that: I missed a lot of school because of the surgery, I didn't do well on my quizzes, and felt that my assignments weren't really up to specs.
When I asked her if the quizzes were what held me back she said she'd check. After a while she said she was glad that I had asked: she gave me the grade of the kid whose name was below mine.
I had gotten an A.
She also mentioned that she was impressed that I had sent my wife in on the day that I was in the hospital to turn in my homework for me.
I thought it was interesting that my dad went in for surgery and 2 weeks later I did, too. It gave us similar things to talk about, too.

Third, about 2 weeks after my own surgery (I'm seeing a pattern here...) I was at home one night doing my homework. Suddenly, Donna was calling from the front room, yelling that our dear little ferret was freaking out. They are generally very quiet animals, so a ferret to be making any kind of noise is a surprise. Our poor, little Sally was screaming in uncontrollable fits, arching its back, and barking in pain. Donna paniced. She didn't know what to do as every 5 minutes or so, the poor dear would relive another episode. Donna indicated that it was having seizures and they seemed to be getting worse. Even between the episodes she was still shaking. Donna was in hystarical crying and neither of us knew what to do.
I held Sally and tried to comfort her while Donna called her sister, who also had ferrets. Ironically, it was the same sister Donna called when I had my appendix pain. However, she didn't know what to do.
I was trying to comfort both Sally and Donna I was suddenly inspired with how Donna looked online for me when my appendix was hurting. I quickly did the same for Sally to find out she was going into the ferret-equivilant of hypoglycemic low-blood sugar count shock. The info online said it was caused by a swollen gland that affected their blood sugar. It recommended giving honey via a Q-Tip and a high-protein diet. It said it would help but didn't say it was an overall life-saving remedy.
Taking matters into my own hands I looked up pet stores online and called to see if they had any soft, high-protein ferret food. The stores were basically closing but their manager said soft cat food was good enough. Donna's parents didn't have any more so I grabbed the bare minimum that I needed and rushed out the door.
I believe this was the first time I'd tried to drive since my surgery. I couldn't even wear real pants yet and a sprint for me was a slow shuffle to everyone else.
I got to the store, found some some puppy food instead, and made my way back. I got woozy once on the return trip to the car and fought the urge to run.
I still made it back in generally well enough time. We sucked the soft food into a feeding syringe and began to alternate between honey and the soft food. Sally was still having her poor screaching fits every 5 minutes but after a while they seemed to decrease in potency.
Donna was in such poor shape that both of her parents came to give what comfort they could. Her mom helped to feed the poor thing, too as we held her loosely in a soft towel. We did everything we could to make her feel as comfortable as we could. Even our little boy tried to give what little comforts he could to his distressed mom.

It was nearing midnight and Donna knew she couldn't go on like this for much longer. She began searching our contacts for a pet store that could help us when her eyes were draw to a magnet on our refrigerator by inspiration. It was the same place we'd taken our previous ferret when he was really sick, too. Unfortunately, he had passed away there. Donna was not about to avoid the fact that not too much could be done for Sally but she quietly hoped that we could at least decrease her pain and make her comfortable so that she could pass away in peace.
We left our boy with grandma and grandpa and drove our poor ferret to this little emergency pet vet. Donna callced them and they said to come immediately. Donna drove this time, gratefully, and the drive seemed to both distract and calm poor Sally. She had one more attack before we arrived at the vet and it was the smallest one yet.
When we arrived we were told we were in luck; the vet on hand was familiar with ferrets and he was only at that location half of the time. We explained the situation and he did a quick check-up. He said that her blood-sugar count was slow enough that he could not rule out the fact of hypoglycemic shock. That made me feel good; that maybe we were able to make a difference with the honey and protein food.

The doctors put Sally on a ferret morphine and muscel-claming drip to take away her pain and attacks. Her eyes looked tired and droopy as we said goodbye. The doctored wanted to keep her there overnight to see how she reacted.
Donna was in a bit of a panic regarding funds to pay for the visit. We did not have insurance when I went in for my surgery and now she was worried about having to pay for our Sally. She told me that she knew we could afford $300 but that was it.
On our way out they gave us the bill: $299.00. We saw that as a bit of a miracle.
We drove home and tried to look at the situation positively: the doctor familiar with ferrets was there that night, it added up to the amount we could pay, we were able to find info online, get food that could help, find peace for herself, and I didn't have any problems either in the process.

When morning came it brought good and bad news. Sally had sleep peacefully through the night without any more pain, spasms, or crying. However, she passed away peacefully that morning.
Just as Donna wanted.
Donna and her dad gave her a quiet, private funeral in dad's back yard, burying her next to her good friend Jack. We had gotten her as a present for him our first Christmas together and now they were both gone. Jack and Sally-the two characters from Time Burton's, "A Nightmare Before Christmas."
We missed them both and Donna was heartbroken.
In the end she was very appreciative of what I was willing to do to help and the good in how it turned out.

Fourth, and last, my uncle's wife has recently been diagnosed with cancer in her overies. However, she is a very large woman with prior surgery experience that could create additional complications. As a result, the doctors have decided to not operate on her.
It's a dire situation and no one is sure what to do. I feel impressed to give them a call and tell them also about my blue-green algae situation. Who knows if it will help.

So, lots of painful and tough situations this semester. Even my Print Production class' instructor had a surgery in their family. Her husband got in a car accident and broke 3 ribs. She said that at any moment they could puncture a lung so things were hard for them, too.
In the end school worked out well for me. I feel much better now. I got A's in both of my classes. I am enjoying our hard earned 3 weeks off between semesters. The recuperation time off helped me with the Finals. And I finished healing in time to enjoy the 3 weeks summer time off.
Now we just need to find a way to pay for these bills...