Some of you know that 3.5 years ago, I got really sick. I was constantly tired. I couldn't walk anywhere. I couldn't speak. I passed out if I laughed too hard. My hair stopped growing. My periods stopped. I couldn't brush my hair without a break. I gained over 25 pounds in just over three months. My resting heartrate was sometimes around 130. My voice was raspy.
Then I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis. Basically, I was hypothyroid. For those of you who don't know a lot about the thyroid, the thyroid is like the thermostat of the body. And my thermostat decided it didn't need to tell my body to regulate itself. I was started on thyroid hormone replacement, and (as my endocrinologist predicted) it took me about 1.5 years to feel completely normal again.
Since I dropped my calc class, I've been exhausted. Not exactly how I expected to feel; I kind of thought I'd have MORE energy, be MORE rested, etc. I've noticed in the past few days that if I talk for more than about ten minutes, my voice gets kind of raspy. I've gained over four pounds in the past two weeks.
So I called the M.D. in my department at work and asked him to write a TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) order for me. He brought it to a meeting we had this af, and I went to the lab after the meeting. My blood was drawn and I'm waiting for the results now.
On one hand, if my thyroid is acting up again, that's a good result. It's the devil I know, and going back to taking Synthroid every day won't be a huge burden (considering how many other pills I pop every day anyway). But it'll be a bummer that things are acting up again since it will take awhile for things to get back to normal. OTOH, if it's NOT my thyroid, that will suck because it will mean it's something ELSE. Something NEW.
So I guess I'm rooting for my thyroid acting up. Yay.
Lab results should be in tonight or tomorrow.
18 June 2009
Candi Wrappers are here!
Go check out Cristi's (that's turtlegirl76 to you Ravelers) new sock pattern, released last night! She had a contest to name the pattern, and "Candi" featured heavily among the entries, as they were designed/created for her sister Candi.
The pattern is a Ravelry download for only $5.00! And 20% of the sales of the pattern will go to this charity. So you aren't just buying another pattern - you're donating to charity!
The pattern is a Ravelry download for only $5.00! And 20% of the sales of the pattern will go to this charity. So you aren't just buying another pattern - you're donating to charity!
15 June 2009
In which I throw myself a pity party
(Teal deer alert!)
Yeah, that's right. A pity party for one. Well, actually, you can join in if you'd like. Just bring something to knit or spin. Or eat. Preferably something cheesy (for eating, not for knitting or spinning).
Today at work didn't start out great. (Actually, those of you who are on the Chase forum on Rav can skip this part as I'm too lazy to type it all out again.)
(Note: Names were coded to protect the absent, the innocent, and teh studip)…
Yeah, that's right. A pity party for one. Well, actually, you can join in if you'd like. Just bring something to knit or spin. Or eat. Preferably something cheesy (for eating, not for knitting or spinning).
Today at work didn't start out great. (Actually, those of you who are on the Chase forum on Rav can skip this part as I'm too lazy to type it all out again.)
(Note: Names were coded to protect the absent, the innocent, and teh studip)…
Me: Who is going to do blah blah for Co-worker #1?
CW2: I will
CW3: Wha..?
Me: Okay.
I then hand CW2 the stuff for CW1 and CW2.
I hand CW3 the stuff for CW3.
An hour later…
CW3: What units does CW1 have?
CW2: Here’s the chart, but why?
CW3: Well, I was going to do her MDRO stuf.
Me: …
CW2: Oh. I’ve been doing it. It’s taken care of.
CW3: Oh, so you got this (confidential information) patient?
CW2: Where was that?
CW3: Here. See? EDAD.
CW2: Uh - that’s not (confidential information); that’s “Emergency Admit.” That’s your unit.
Me: …
CW3: Oh, uh-huh, yeah. Okay.
About a month ago, my boss and I made the decision to password protect some of the data and graphs that I am responsible for compiling, analysing, and interpreting every month. I campaigned for this because CW3 consistently goes into said graphs and changes things around. This stuff goes out to bigwigs over MY name. So I get very testy about people changing things around, especially when said things are reported to the CDC and PA DOH.
Well, about an hour after the above exchange, I discovered that CW3 decided to play around in some OTHER graphs that I put together every month. So now I'm going to have to spend time locking 18 more graphs because some people suck at life.
For exactly TWO WEEKS now, I've been asking for something we'll call DDs. Each unit is supposed to turn their DDs into my department every month. DDs are something that are counted each day. So if the units are doing this properly, they should be able to turn in their sheet of DDs on the first of the month. Until last month, the DDs went to our administrative assistant, who has since been laid off. So now the DDs have become my responsibility.
About a week ago, I started getting antsy about the DDs. I had about half of them, with no sign of the others. I NEED the DDs because they go into a document that I am responsible for turning in on the first Monday after the first two full weeks of the month (in other words, for June it was due TODAY). By the time I left the office on Friday, we were waiting for DDs from two more units - one was promised by 8:00 a.m. today (the person who had then was on vacation, but had been contacted and SWORE she'd get them to us as soon as she walked in the building today - she did). The other one (we'll call him K) said he had the DDs in his hand and would fax them right away.
Today rolled around. By noon, still no sign of DDs from K. To make a long story short, at 3:15 p.m., he finally said that "[his] clerk lost them." So now the data for his unit, all of the units like his, and the hospital will be fucked for this month, this quarter, and this fiscal year.
Then I go to the chiropracter for a follow-up visit from last week. This is a chiropracter I used to see a long time ago, but stopped when I started back to school and my health insurance there didn't cover him. However, last week, my hips started acting up again, so I went to see him. Basically, my sacroiliac joint is angry. This is the joint that moves when women give birth. It's at the back of the pelvic bowl and there's just to the side of the spine on each side. So I'm in pain whether I'm lying down, sitting up, or walking.
The chiro asked me how I was doing, and I told him that I hurt. A lot. He put heat on my back, then tried to adjust me. He adjusted one hip, then he asked me to roll over so he could do the other one. As has happened several times in the past week, I couldn't do it. I got to my back and was in too much pain to keep going. So he rolled me over and stretched my hip rather than adjusting it. In the end, he decided to ice me down for awhile. Then he scheduled me to come back tomorrow for some massage therapy before seeing him again. He told me to make sure I used plenty of ice tonight.
So on the way home, I picked up some water ice. That's what he meant, right??? (For you non-locals, water ice is sort of like a sno-cone, but much smoother in texture and a more intense flavour.)
(Side note: For those of you worried he's making me come back just to get my money - this is a doc who refuses to take your entire co-pay if your co-pay is over $15. And who rolls the massage therapy visit and chiro visit into one bill so you only pay one co-pay even if you see both of them.)
08 June 2009
Knitting Notes
You may remember that a few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to receive a Pop Rocks chocolate bar and some stitch markers from Mel. I won't rehash the backstory here and now, but it all originated with a Ravelry train wreck.
Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a great picture of Mel's stitch markers, but here's a mediocre picture of them.
I can only pray that Mel will forgive me for such a bad picture of her absolutely BEAUTIFUL and ADORABLE work! I really love the stitch markers that designate the left- and right-side of the work.
If you want to see good pictures of her work, please visit her etsy site, which is located here.
And speaking of Mel, she's just been through a bit of a mess on Ravelry. I am happy to say that it's been sorted out, thanks in part to TPTB (the powers that be). So why am I telling you about it? Because a yarn store owner behaved badly. And I want people to know about it. For the full details, see this entry in Mel's blog.
And in non-Mel-related knitting news, I thought some of you would appreciate this recent exchange between Brook and me on IM:
Brook: weavolution.com Like rav for weavers. Just for future reference. ;) (i just signed up)
me: I'm not a weaver!!! And you're not turning me into one!!!!!
Brook: you said that about spinning
me: Shaddup
Brook: :D
07 June 2009
Not all fun and games
I've been struggling with the decision of whether to post this. I wanted to because I tend to post about what's going on in my life and this definitely qualifies. But I was hesitant because I know someone people from Ravelry take a peek, and I'm not sure that a post of this ilk is what they'd expect. They probably expect to see some FO pics, some yarn pics, and hear some funny little knitastrophe anecdote.
So, I'll warn you now... if that's what you expect and you'll be disappointed by anything else, then you probably shouldn't keep reading this post. Because, in the end, I've decided that, dammit, it's my blog and I'll post what I want to let out into the world.
As many of you know, I am a rape survivor. I was raped by my mom's second husband, after several years of being molested by him. He had helped my mom raise me since I was four years old.
I've been in therapy for years, and I've dealt with the rape several times before. It tends to be an issue that shows up in waves - sometimes I need to talk about it a LOT and other times I can go for quite awhile without needing to process it.
Without going into a lot of detail right now (mostly because it's past 1:00 a.m.), I'll just say that some current events in my life have me reprocessing (yet again) the rape. I'm back to sitting in my therapist's office crying and processing and asking the hard questions that, really, have no answer. And never will.
I also decided to post this here because I've ALWAYS been very open about the rape and its effects on me (why hide from it when I kick-started a move to change Missouri law because of what happened to me and had to write in testimony for the legislative records?). I want other victims to know that it doesn't always have to be the bottomless pit that it sometimes feels like, and I want people who aren't victims to not pity me. I guess it comes down to wanting to be seen as a strong survivor, not as a weak victim.
Anyway, another reason for posting is because, frankly, I could use the support of my friends. It's not that I need to discuss the details with all of you individually, but I could certainly make do with an extra hug here and there, a meaningful "no, really - how ARE you doing?", and some understanding if I'm a bit... distracted.
xoxoxo
So, I'll warn you now... if that's what you expect and you'll be disappointed by anything else, then you probably shouldn't keep reading this post. Because, in the end, I've decided that, dammit, it's my blog and I'll post what I want to let out into the world.
As many of you know, I am a rape survivor. I was raped by my mom's second husband, after several years of being molested by him. He had helped my mom raise me since I was four years old.
I've been in therapy for years, and I've dealt with the rape several times before. It tends to be an issue that shows up in waves - sometimes I need to talk about it a LOT and other times I can go for quite awhile without needing to process it.
Without going into a lot of detail right now (mostly because it's past 1:00 a.m.), I'll just say that some current events in my life have me reprocessing (yet again) the rape. I'm back to sitting in my therapist's office crying and processing and asking the hard questions that, really, have no answer. And never will.
I also decided to post this here because I've ALWAYS been very open about the rape and its effects on me (why hide from it when I kick-started a move to change Missouri law because of what happened to me and had to write in testimony for the legislative records?). I want other victims to know that it doesn't always have to be the bottomless pit that it sometimes feels like, and I want people who aren't victims to not pity me. I guess it comes down to wanting to be seen as a strong survivor, not as a weak victim.
Anyway, another reason for posting is because, frankly, I could use the support of my friends. It's not that I need to discuss the details with all of you individually, but I could certainly make do with an extra hug here and there, a meaningful "no, really - how ARE you doing?", and some understanding if I'm a bit... distracted.
xoxoxo
06 June 2009
The Race That Wasn't: Part III
As promised, some of the pics of the people I met during Non-Race Day.
Here's Taz. I met him waiting for Scott Speed's autograph. He's a Junior fan. His wife is a Kyle fan. Their 14-year-old son is a Scott fan. (I like how James' trailer is in the reflection.)
Here's a Martin Truex, Jr., impersonator. I thought it was very gracious of him to decline to sign a boy's hat. After Not-Truex went into the trailer, several of us argued (in a friendly manner) about whether it was or was not Truex. We said that if it WAS, he had CLEARLY lost a lot of weight. And then Taz reminded us that the camera adds ten pounds. Then we decided it was NOT him when we sent a scout to the front of Truex's trailer where he saw of pic of Truex with Not-Truex. So, I present to you... Not Truex:
We also saw someone who likes Kyle WAAAAAAY more than I do:
During the rain delay, there was a ton of people watching to do. I present to you Dancing Cowboy. Mom and I first spotted him when he made his way to his seat whilst drinking his can o' beer. Yes, we're walking down the row to the seat, but Must. Drink. Beer. They played songs for a bit, and he and his brew had a little dance going on. Mom and I agreed that he seemed attractive... at least from the back. From the back, he reminded me of Hank Williams, Jr. Anyway, here he is:
At the end of our row and then in the seat in front of him were the two Tattoo Guys. Mom and I refer to each of them as Tattoo Guy; I guess they're interchangeable in our minds. I wasn't able to get a picture of them that showed everything. The guy with the suspenders had multiple piercings and a tattoo that spanned the entirety of his sizeable belly. I will say that these guys were extremely nice and polite. When Mom was making her way out of the seats with her bags, Tattoo Guy asked her if she needed help. When I came down the stairs and was making my way back to the seats one time (carrying at least three bags), he asked if he could help me. There were also people during the rain delay who asked to take their picture, and both Tattoo Guys were very good-natured about the whole thing. They posed for pics, they took pics, etc. I didn't realise this at the time, or I'd have gotten in line (Mom told me later). I was busy feeling clever about kinnearing everyone.
And Fred Flintstone was at the race:
I gave him the raised eyebrow look. He explained that when he started following NASCAR, he was told he needed a favourite driver. He didn't know who to choose, but said that his favourite colour is orange and his favourite number is 20. So he was told to pick Tony as his favourite. In the end, I let him have the fries. But, for posterity's sake, I got a pic of what his friends did to his back. Note to self: never let drunk people draw on me with a Sharpie.
Here's Taz. I met him waiting for Scott Speed's autograph. He's a Junior fan. His wife is a Kyle fan. Their 14-year-old son is a Scott fan. (I like how James' trailer is in the reflection.)
Here's a Martin Truex, Jr., impersonator. I thought it was very gracious of him to decline to sign a boy's hat. After Not-Truex went into the trailer, several of us argued (in a friendly manner) about whether it was or was not Truex. We said that if it WAS, he had CLEARLY lost a lot of weight. And then Taz reminded us that the camera adds ten pounds. Then we decided it was NOT him when we sent a scout to the front of Truex's trailer where he saw of pic of Truex with Not-Truex. So, I present to you... Not Truex:
During the rain delay, there was a ton of people watching to do. I present to you Dancing Cowboy. Mom and I first spotted him when he made his way to his seat whilst drinking his can o' beer. Yes, we're walking down the row to the seat, but Must. Drink. Beer. They played songs for a bit, and he and his brew had a little dance going on. Mom and I agreed that he seemed attractive... at least from the back. From the back, he reminded me of Hank Williams, Jr. Anyway, here he is:
At the end of our row and then in the seat in front of him were the two Tattoo Guys. Mom and I refer to each of them as Tattoo Guy; I guess they're interchangeable in our minds. I wasn't able to get a picture of them that showed everything. The guy with the suspenders had multiple piercings and a tattoo that spanned the entirety of his sizeable belly. I will say that these guys were extremely nice and polite. When Mom was making her way out of the seats with her bags, Tattoo Guy asked her if she needed help. When I came down the stairs and was making my way back to the seats one time (carrying at least three bags), he asked if he could help me. There were also people during the rain delay who asked to take their picture, and both Tattoo Guys were very good-natured about the whole thing. They posed for pics, they took pics, etc. I didn't realise this at the time, or I'd have gotten in line (Mom told me later). I was busy feeling clever about kinnearing everyone.
And Fred Flintstone was at the race:
And, finally... Drunk Guy. I met Drunk Guy when we came back to our seats when we THOUGHT the race was going to get started. FOOLS! I looked 
under my seat to find my French fries (they were in a baggie), but no fries. I was annoyed - I mean, who steals FRIES??? And Drunk Guy in a slow Southern accent. "Oh hey - I stole your fries." The guys he was with (in the row behind Drunk Guy and me) are going, "Give her her fries back, man!" I told Drunk Guy he could have the fries, and he said, "No, really? Are you sure?" I said, "Who's your favourite driver?" "Tony Stewart." And I snatched the fries back. The guys all laughed, I took a fry and ate it, then I sealed the bag back up, and told the guy he could have them. He said, "No - they're yours. Well played. But can I defend my choice?"
under my seat to find my French fries (they were in a baggie), but no fries. I was annoyed - I mean, who steals FRIES??? And Drunk Guy in a slow Southern accent. "Oh hey - I stole your fries." The guys he was with (in the row behind Drunk Guy and me) are going, "Give her her fries back, man!" I told Drunk Guy he could have the fries, and he said, "No, really? Are you sure?" I said, "Who's your favourite driver?" "Tony Stewart." And I snatched the fries back. The guys all laughed, I took a fry and ate it, then I sealed the bag back up, and told the guy he could have them. He said, "No - they're yours. Well played. But can I defend my choice?"I gave him the raised eyebrow look. He explained that when he started following NASCAR, he was told he needed a favourite driver. He didn't know who to choose, but said that his favourite colour is orange and his favourite number is 20. So he was told to pick Tony as his favourite. In the end, I let him have the fries. But, for posterity's sake, I got a pic of what his friends did to his back. Note to self: never let drunk people draw on me with a Sharpie.
02 June 2009
The Race That Wasn't: Part II
Okay, I know this is a one long-ass post, but stick with it. The end is pretty good. :)
Sunday: We got to the track shortly after 10:00 a.m. Mom was psyched that we got to park between the drag strip and the dirt track. She isn’t much for the dragsters, but she LOVES her some dirt track racing. Since the gates opened at 11:00 a.m., and they were handing out grab bags to the first 50,000 in the gates, I campaigned for walking straight to the gates and waiting in line, then checking out Souvenir Alley and the hospitality village. We decided to leave some of the stuff in the car (scanners, headsets, evening clothing such as jackets, etc.), which we would pick up later when we dropped off our buys and free samples.
We got to the gates and only had to wait about 20 minutes for them to open. We got our bags, then hit Souvenir Alley. People bought things. I’m sure you’ll be SHOCKED to hear that I bought something at Robby’s trailer and at James’ trailer. Sara was kind enough to buy me something at Kyle’s trailer. I bought Mom for Christmas a Mikey hooded sweatshirt that she picked out. I told her she could wear it that night, but then it had to go home to get wrapped for Christmas [cue more foreshadowing music].
As per usual, while strolling through Souvenir Alley, we saw the notices for the autograph sessions: Robby Gordon at 2:00 p.m., Scott Speed at 2:00 p.m., Toast at 2:00 p.m., David Ragan from 2:25-2:45. I planned my course of action: Scott Speed at 2:00 p.m., then a mad dash to Robby. Much as a I adore David, I only had my hat for him to sign, and he’d already signed it last year. And I didn’t feel like buying something at his trailer just for him to sign. Mom and Sara had exhausted Souvenir Alley, so I sent them on ahead to Hospitality Village and we agreed to meet up later after I was done being an autograph hound.
While I was in line for Scott, Sara texted me that Kyle was making an appearance at the Toyota exhibit at 3:00 p.m. By this time, the guy in front of me in Scott’s line and I were fast friends. Taz explained to me that his 14-year-old’s favourite driver is Scott, his favourite driver is Junior, and my favourite driver is KyleCarlJamesRobbyToddScott. So when Sara texted me, I called Mom, we came up with new meet-up plans, and I told Taz about Kyle’s appearance. He and I planned to sprint over to the Toyota exhibit together, but he later got a call from his wife, and he had to go somewhere else. Clearly, his wife is not as dedicated of a Kyle fan as I am! :P
I got Scott autograph on my hat and on a hero card. Taz took a pic of the two of us, and Scott was gracious enough to stand up and lean over the tall counter as much as possible to get both of us in the same shot. I thanked Taz, grabbed my camera from him, and literally ran to the street to cross to Hospitality Village. As I was crossing the street, I had my hat in my hand (no time to put it in the bag!) and several people commented on “what a busy girl [I’d] been.” Ha!
I got to the Toyota exhibit at 2:18 (sorry, Robby - sacrifices have to be made!). I asked Lisa, the nice exhibit lady where Kyle would be and if he would be signing autographs or if this was just a photo op. She said he MIGHT sign some stuff on the way in/out, but it wasn’t an autograph session. She also told me where to camp out to wait for him. Unfortunately, I had to wait through Denny Hamlin’s appearance, but it was relatively painless as he used the race simulators to race against fans - and he only won one of the two heats. *snicker*
Finally, Kyle’s timeslot arrived and we waited... and waited... and waited. (Note: next time Toyota people tell you Kyle may appear a few minutes early, remember the key word “MAY.”) Unfortunately, instead of Kyle, we got the rain. So the place I had painstakingly staked out for over 45 minutes was useless as they decided to move where Kyle would speak. The woman standing next to me and I got Lisa’s attention and made a big to-do about how we’d been there for over an hour waiting. She went to see what she could do for us, but came back and said that he wouldn’t be signing any autographs for anyone.
At that point, I decided to abandon the “And what about pictures since the people who have been dutifully waiting here in the back of the exhibit area to see him are now the furthest away from the staging area in the front” argument in lieu of using my petite size to wiggle my way into the audience. As several of you have seen from my Picasa album, I managed to get nearly 20 pics of him. It’s also nice to know that when you’re short and you’re literally doing the “if I jump and click at just the right moment, maybe I’ll get a decent shot” thing, people around you will offer to take pics for you. Yay for friendly, nice, tall, Kyle fans!
After that, we headed in to the track area to eat. We then found our seats (well, first we found someone else’s seat), which happened to seat me next to two people from Philly! And the woman’s family is from Wichita, Kansas! Small world, eh? I also met two nice people behind us from Mississippi. It’s one of the things I adore about NASCAR events - you meet all these wonderful people. True, you’ll probably NEVER see them again, but who cares.
We then sat through nearly TWO HOURS of pre-race festivities, exhibiting military... things. Mom and I were not happy that LMS ganked part of their stuff from last fall’s Kansas race, such as the aircraft carrier delivering the pace car, but whatev. And, as the NASCAR fans know, that was all we got to see. We never saw pace laps, we never saw a green flag, and we certainly saw no pit stops.
At 8:30 p.m. EDT, the race was called with a noon start on Monday. Mom and I both flew out on Monday. We talked and decided to go ahead and go home and file the event insurance claim to try to recoup some our money, rather than spend more money to change our flights. Getting money back trumps spending more money, see?
But the day ended with the discovery that the car keys had been lost along the way. When we got to the car, Mom called AAA, and they sent someone out to rekey Sara’s car. Locksmith got there at 2:00 a.m. Now, scroll back up to see what time they called the race. Go ahead; I’ll wait. Yep, that’s right - from the time the race was called to the time we got in a car - 5.5 hours.
In the interim, we sought shelter in a small hallway leading to a women’s restroom. Mostly we entertained ourselves, but we also inherited the duty of telling people, “Sorry, the bathroom’s locked,” which was generally followed by “Yes, we’re serious.”
Those of you who know me or who have spoken on the phone with me since then know I’ve spent some time crying about this trip. If it could go wrong, it did. Awesome Mother’s Day present, Min; well done.
Mom and I did get to sit in the airport together for awhile after we both checked in (different airlines, different terminals). And we concocted The Plan (with apologies to Brook and Alex). Mom even called Dale (her husband) to explain The Plan. (Small bit of background before I tell you about The Plan - once I told Mom her Mother’s Day present from me was a ticket to the Coca-Cola 600, Dale paid for her flight down and back as her birthday present.)
Mom called Dale and got the answering machine.
Mom to machine: Hi Dale, it’s me. Just wanted to make sure you’re coming to get me tonight. We didn’t change our flight so I’ll be at the airport tonight at 11:15 p.m. But Min and I have a plan for next year. We think you should take us to the All-Star Race and the 600 next year and we’ll spend the week in between going to the garages and touring the area, since I got robbed of my birthday present AND my Mother’s Day present this year..
Me whispering to Mom: And your daughter won’t stop crying
Mom to machine: And my daughter won’t stop crying. And you probably won’t even get this message until you’re home from the airport with me, so BYE!
Here’s where the story gets even better. I get to work on Tuesday, and my boss wants to know what’s wrong. I start to cry and she has me come in her office, close the door, and tell her the story of the Worst Mother’s Day Gift ever. She hugs me, tells me that as a mom, she knows that it meant more to my mom to see me for a few days than whether she got to see the race. She asks me when I’ll see my mom again. I tell her, “In October, for the Kansas race.” Boss gets weird look on her face. I say, “What?”
Well, it seems that because the nurses’ and techs’ contracts expire at the end of September, the hospital is planning for the event of a strike. Therefore, NO vacation days are being granted between 15 September and somewhere in the middle of November. If the unions approve new contracts before then, people can take vacation. I explained to the boss that I already had plane tickets, and she said that should be okay. SHOULD be okay. I explain to my boss that if I get screwed out of ALL THREE races in one year, I’m going to be one unhappy camper.
Then I pulled it together, explained The Plan for next year, and asked for a week and a half off to go to Charlotte. And she approved it. WIN!!!!
Next blog post: The more colourful people I met at LMS.
Sunday: We got to the track shortly after 10:00 a.m. Mom was psyched that we got to park between the drag strip and the dirt track. She isn’t much for the dragsters, but she LOVES her some dirt track racing. Since the gates opened at 11:00 a.m., and they were handing out grab bags to the first 50,000 in the gates, I campaigned for walking straight to the gates and waiting in line, then checking out Souvenir Alley and the hospitality village. We decided to leave some of the stuff in the car (scanners, headsets, evening clothing such as jackets, etc.), which we would pick up later when we dropped off our buys and free samples.
We got to the gates and only had to wait about 20 minutes for them to open. We got our bags, then hit Souvenir Alley. People bought things. I’m sure you’ll be SHOCKED to hear that I bought something at Robby’s trailer and at James’ trailer. Sara was kind enough to buy me something at Kyle’s trailer. I bought Mom for Christmas a Mikey hooded sweatshirt that she picked out. I told her she could wear it that night, but then it had to go home to get wrapped for Christmas [cue more foreshadowing music].
As per usual, while strolling through Souvenir Alley, we saw the notices for the autograph sessions: Robby Gordon at 2:00 p.m., Scott Speed at 2:00 p.m., Toast at 2:00 p.m., David Ragan from 2:25-2:45. I planned my course of action: Scott Speed at 2:00 p.m., then a mad dash to Robby. Much as a I adore David, I only had my hat for him to sign, and he’d already signed it last year. And I didn’t feel like buying something at his trailer just for him to sign. Mom and Sara had exhausted Souvenir Alley, so I sent them on ahead to Hospitality Village and we agreed to meet up later after I was done being an autograph hound.
While I was in line for Scott, Sara texted me that Kyle was making an appearance at the Toyota exhibit at 3:00 p.m. By this time, the guy in front of me in Scott’s line and I were fast friends. Taz explained to me that his 14-year-old’s favourite driver is Scott, his favourite driver is Junior, and my favourite driver is KyleCarlJamesRobbyToddScott. So when Sara texted me, I called Mom, we came up with new meet-up plans, and I told Taz about Kyle’s appearance. He and I planned to sprint over to the Toyota exhibit together, but he later got a call from his wife, and he had to go somewhere else. Clearly, his wife is not as dedicated of a Kyle fan as I am! :P
I got Scott autograph on my hat and on a hero card. Taz took a pic of the two of us, and Scott was gracious enough to stand up and lean over the tall counter as much as possible to get both of us in the same shot. I thanked Taz, grabbed my camera from him, and literally ran to the street to cross to Hospitality Village. As I was crossing the street, I had my hat in my hand (no time to put it in the bag!) and several people commented on “what a busy girl [I’d] been.” Ha!
I got to the Toyota exhibit at 2:18 (sorry, Robby - sacrifices have to be made!). I asked Lisa, the nice exhibit lady where Kyle would be and if he would be signing autographs or if this was just a photo op. She said he MIGHT sign some stuff on the way in/out, but it wasn’t an autograph session. She also told me where to camp out to wait for him. Unfortunately, I had to wait through Denny Hamlin’s appearance, but it was relatively painless as he used the race simulators to race against fans - and he only won one of the two heats. *snicker*
Finally, Kyle’s timeslot arrived and we waited... and waited... and waited. (Note: next time Toyota people tell you Kyle may appear a few minutes early, remember the key word “MAY.”) Unfortunately, instead of Kyle, we got the rain. So the place I had painstakingly staked out for over 45 minutes was useless as they decided to move where Kyle would speak. The woman standing next to me and I got Lisa’s attention and made a big to-do about how we’d been there for over an hour waiting. She went to see what she could do for us, but came back and said that he wouldn’t be signing any autographs for anyone.
At that point, I decided to abandon the “And what about pictures since the people who have been dutifully waiting here in the back of the exhibit area to see him are now the furthest away from the staging area in the front” argument in lieu of using my petite size to wiggle my way into the audience. As several of you have seen from my Picasa album, I managed to get nearly 20 pics of him. It’s also nice to know that when you’re short and you’re literally doing the “if I jump and click at just the right moment, maybe I’ll get a decent shot” thing, people around you will offer to take pics for you. Yay for friendly, nice, tall, Kyle fans!
After that, we headed in to the track area to eat. We then found our seats (well, first we found someone else’s seat), which happened to seat me next to two people from Philly! And the woman’s family is from Wichita, Kansas! Small world, eh? I also met two nice people behind us from Mississippi. It’s one of the things I adore about NASCAR events - you meet all these wonderful people. True, you’ll probably NEVER see them again, but who cares.
We then sat through nearly TWO HOURS of pre-race festivities, exhibiting military... things. Mom and I were not happy that LMS ganked part of their stuff from last fall’s Kansas race, such as the aircraft carrier delivering the pace car, but whatev. And, as the NASCAR fans know, that was all we got to see. We never saw pace laps, we never saw a green flag, and we certainly saw no pit stops.
At 8:30 p.m. EDT, the race was called with a noon start on Monday. Mom and I both flew out on Monday. We talked and decided to go ahead and go home and file the event insurance claim to try to recoup some our money, rather than spend more money to change our flights. Getting money back trumps spending more money, see?
But the day ended with the discovery that the car keys had been lost along the way. When we got to the car, Mom called AAA, and they sent someone out to rekey Sara’s car. Locksmith got there at 2:00 a.m. Now, scroll back up to see what time they called the race. Go ahead; I’ll wait. Yep, that’s right - from the time the race was called to the time we got in a car - 5.5 hours.
In the interim, we sought shelter in a small hallway leading to a women’s restroom. Mostly we entertained ourselves, but we also inherited the duty of telling people, “Sorry, the bathroom’s locked,” which was generally followed by “Yes, we’re serious.”
Those of you who know me or who have spoken on the phone with me since then know I’ve spent some time crying about this trip. If it could go wrong, it did. Awesome Mother’s Day present, Min; well done.
Mom and I did get to sit in the airport together for awhile after we both checked in (different airlines, different terminals). And we concocted The Plan (with apologies to Brook and Alex). Mom even called Dale (her husband) to explain The Plan. (Small bit of background before I tell you about The Plan - once I told Mom her Mother’s Day present from me was a ticket to the Coca-Cola 600, Dale paid for her flight down and back as her birthday present.)
Mom called Dale and got the answering machine.
Mom to machine: Hi Dale, it’s me. Just wanted to make sure you’re coming to get me tonight. We didn’t change our flight so I’ll be at the airport tonight at 11:15 p.m. But Min and I have a plan for next year. We think you should take us to the All-Star Race and the 600 next year and we’ll spend the week in between going to the garages and touring the area, since I got robbed of my birthday present AND my Mother’s Day present this year..
Me whispering to Mom: And your daughter won’t stop crying
Mom to machine: And my daughter won’t stop crying. And you probably won’t even get this message until you’re home from the airport with me, so BYE!
Here’s where the story gets even better. I get to work on Tuesday, and my boss wants to know what’s wrong. I start to cry and she has me come in her office, close the door, and tell her the story of the Worst Mother’s Day Gift ever. She hugs me, tells me that as a mom, she knows that it meant more to my mom to see me for a few days than whether she got to see the race. She asks me when I’ll see my mom again. I tell her, “In October, for the Kansas race.” Boss gets weird look on her face. I say, “What?”
Well, it seems that because the nurses’ and techs’ contracts expire at the end of September, the hospital is planning for the event of a strike. Therefore, NO vacation days are being granted between 15 September and somewhere in the middle of November. If the unions approve new contracts before then, people can take vacation. I explained to the boss that I already had plane tickets, and she said that should be okay. SHOULD be okay. I explain to my boss that if I get screwed out of ALL THREE races in one year, I’m going to be one unhappy camper.
Then I pulled it together, explained The Plan for next year, and asked for a week and a half off to go to Charlotte. And she approved it. WIN!!!!
Next blog post: The more colourful people I met at LMS.
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