Worth Reading... |
Steve's Page
Peter's Page
Frigax
EFF
Fark
TNDF
Packing
Freenet
Politech
Recipe Barn
All of 'em
GlockTalk
Cryptome
The Daily WTF?
Where's George
Me Elsewhere...
/.: ShaunC
Fark: Frigax
NANAS: Canned Ham
...cheers!
319359
|
Tonight I was listening to Memphis Mayor (pro-tem) Myron Lowery, during the replay of his radio appearance this morning with Drake and Zeke. He gave out his email address on the air, so I thought I'd write about a traffic signal issue.
For some time I've thought there should be a left-turn arrow for eastbound traffic on Walnut Grove to turn northbound on Sanga; the traffic here only seems to be getting worse during the evening rush hour. I sent Lowery a brief email at 8:49PM, asking who I should contact about these matters. He replied at 9:01PM, telling me that Wain Gaskins was the man for that, and he CC'd Wain on the message.
Only time will tell whether or not I get a follow-up, and certainly I'm aware that one complaint isn't going to get a new traffic signal installed. But I emailed the mayor of my city at almost 9PM, and had a meaningful response within about 10 minutes. As a resident of Memphis for the last 25 years, allow me to describe the ways this surprises me:
- I emailed the Mayor of Memphis. No big surprise there, I guess.
- The Mayor responded to my email. Whoa! really? And it's not a form letter?
- The Mayor's reply correctly delegated my inquiry to the appropriate city official, and CC'd that official. This wasn't just a token thank-you, he actually read the message and took the time to redirect it to the right person.
- It was almost 9:00PM. I think our previous Mayor would have been getting his swerve on around that time of night.
- The reply only took 11 minutes. Is this for real?
I realize the man's campaigning to keep this job, so he's going above and beyond in order to impress his constituents. That said, consider me impressed. Myron Lowery earned my vote tonight. |
|
|
"How are you?" I'm doing well, how are you?
I must answer this question a dozen times a day or more, passing coworkers in the hall or engaging in idle chat on the elevator to bide the time. The butcher at the grocery store, the cashier at the gas station, the waitress at lunch, the neighbor across the street when I'm opening the mailbox. They all ask the same question, but they rarely mean it. And I almost always give the same answer, because I rarely mean it either. The question (of which I'm just as guilty of asking insincerely), or the answer.
The biggest lies, somehow, are the easiest to tell. And why not? It's only a few words, simple enough to pawn off as fact. Standing and facing someone, not feeling at the present moment as though you're about to faint, it takes surprisingly little effort to tell them that life is good and you're doing just fine.
Truth is, the last time I remember doing just fine was in May.
It's frustrating how a heart problem can manifest itself in so many stealthy ways. You have trouble swallowing, you suspect a cold or perhaps strep throat. You can't breathe, you wonder if it's asthma or - as a smoker - something worse. You get light-headed, you probably just need to eat something, or maybe you didn't sleep quite long enough the night before. Eventually you have all of these symptoms at the same time, and your physician responds with nonchalance and yet another new prescription.
Then comes the day when despite every physical effort and all mental command, your body refuses to obey. You attempt to stand out of your chair, and find that doing so is entirely beyond your capability.
That was me, June 24th, 2009. I couldn't stand up.
I couldn't fucking stand up.
Since that day, I've received infinitely better medical care. I owe a great deal of thanks to Dr. Michael Pruett, Mid-South Internal Medicine; and Dr. Ray Allen, Cardiology Specialists of Memphis. Were it not for your time and your help, would I be able to write this today?
Over those same months, I've watched my quality of life decline rapidly, only to rebound but not yet to normalcy. I haven't driven on the interstate in more than a month, because driving at that speed makes me feel as though I'm going to pass out (I'm fine as a passenger, it's something to do with the stress of driving). I have to watch precisely what I eat, how much, and when - sodium is to be avoided, and if I get too full, I can't breathe. After mowing the lawn on a hot day, downing a great big glass of iced tea like I would have done last year is out of the question; cold beverages make my chest hurt and the rest of my body pulse with discomfort.
Yes, we're talking angina. And cardiomegaly. And mitral regurgitation with tricuspid regurgitation. And let's not forget reduced left ventricular systolic function, because what kind of party would it be without that one?
Why do I mention all of this, and why now? Because tomorrow, Tuesday, will be the scariest day I've ever faced. I'm scheduled for a coronary angiography, more commonly known as a heart catheterization. A three-foot-long tube will be inserted through a punctured artery in my groin, wound around through that artery into my heart, and poked here and there amongst the heart's chambers to determine what's the haps. It's a routine diagnostic procedure, they say. Only 1 in 1000 patients die during their cath, and only 1 in 250 have complications. Like heart attack, or stroke. Hey, I'm a gambler.
This is supposed to be an exciting week in my life. I turn 30 on Friday. But on this birthday, I won't be celebrating the milestone as most do. No party, no fun, no getting drunk or going out on the town. No, this Friday - this Friday it's going to be exciting for an entirely different reason.
For a new lease on life, I hope.
Catch y'all on the flip side. |
|
|
At my internist today, the nurse got a BP of 130/90, and that was after I'd made the hike from the Baptist parking garage to Medical Plaza 2. Once I'd been sitting around waiting for the doctor, with plenty of time to relax, he got a 128/80. That's the best I've seen in a doctor's office since I was diagnosed with hypertension.
Doc wasn't too happy to hear that the cardiologist couldn't see me until September (and that, even with his office's cajoling). I might get a nice bump in that schedule. For now, more of the same: no changes in medication. |
|
|
Thanks to an old friend and one-time coworker, I was motivated to post here again with the latest news.
I visited my internist again on July 8th, just before my annual vacation to Heber Springs. The blood pressure readings were down slightly, and more so after I'd had time to relax in the examination room. They still weren't (and aren't) where they need to be.
I was able to make the four hour drive to Heber, evaluating my new Magellan GPS, without too many issues. Once I got to the hotel, I had to spend several hours on a critical work-related function. The chest tightness and breathing issues surfaced. I wonder if perhaps stress is the ultimate trigger.
Since then, there's been a definite up-and-down pattern, though I've yet to identify the evil catalyst. I can repeat the following routine with identical precision two days in a row ...
1) Wake up, down my amlodipine(5)/benazepril(10) with some Gatorade.
2) Shower and dress.
3) Eat a packet of oatmeal for breakfast.
4) Get in the car and begin driving to work.
Yet between the two days, even though I've followed precisely the same routine, I have terribly different experiences. On day one I'll have chest tightness, trouble breathing, and trouble swallowing on the way in to work, before I even touch a cigarette, and that will last throughout the day. On day two I'll make the entire workday symptom free. I've taken to holding the seatbelt in my right hand, with plenty of slack, while I drive. The light compression it exerts across my chest is just too much.
I'm back to my internist next week. I was supposed to see a cardiologist in the interim, but when I called to make an appointment, I was told that the earliest available slot was late August (I think it was the 26th). I mentioned that my internist probably expected me to see the cardio before I next saw him, and the nurse suggested that I have my doctor's office call instead, as they'd likely be able to get a better time slot. That backfired: I see the cardiologist on September 8th.
I return to my internist next week. Perhaps future updates will be warranted then. |
|
|
My Comcast internet is actually working for a few moments, so I thought I'd provide an update on the prior post.
Last Wednesday, June 24th, I left work and found my way to Baptist Hospital due to severe problems breathing and swallowing, with light-headedness to the point where I had trouble getting out of my chair. 3 chest X-rays and one EKG later, the verdict was in: the lungs are spotless, but I have an enlarged heart. Yeah, the same thing that just killed Billy Mays.
The hypertension, which was first diagnosed in April, apparently was exacerbated by the pill-of-the-week treatment that a certain doctor's office was giving me. The peaks and valleys in blood pressure that resulted from switching between so many medications so quickly stressed my heart to the point where it weakened, and couldn't provide enough blood to the rest of my organs. When my lungs didn't get enough blood to breathe properly, there wasn't sufficient oxygen getting into my blood, resulting in a vicious cycle. It's no goddamned wonder I kept thinking I was going to pass out.
The good news is that I've had more tests in the past week than in the past ten years; I feel that I've been properly diagnosed, and properly medicated as well. I'm able to drive without trouble, and without having to pull into a gas station every 10 minutes to get up and walk around. And I've found a comfortable spot at work where - for the time being - I don't have any trouble with breathing, swallowing, or staying conscious.
I had an echocardiogram this morning, but I doubt I'll hear the results until I return to the internist next Wednesday. More as I understand it. For now: I'm alive, I'm better, and I value life more than ever before. |
|
|
Something from work must be trying to kill me.
A couple of months ago, I determined that my blood pressure was out of control. 160/110, that's what I read on a Walgreens meter. I went to the doctor to be treated, and was put on Benicar 20mg. I stayed on Benicar 20mg for 5 weeks, at which point I returned to the doctor. She wasn't terribly happy with the results and decided to double the dose, putting me on Benicar 40mg. That brought my blood pressure down, but also caused me to have trouble breathing and swallowing.
I returned to the doctor's office with those symptoms, and was taken off Benicar in favor of Bystolic 10mg. Bystolic joined the party for several weeks, without consequence. I didn't have any adverse effects. It seemed like Bystolic was doing what it needed to do. However, when I returned to the doctor's office, they read me at 150/90. That's not quite where I've been seeing my BP, but it convinced my doctor that Bystolic wasn't doing enough for me. So I was removed from Bystolic and placed on Lisinopril.
On workdays, I continue to experience the shortness of breath, and skipping-a-beat of my heart, and damned near passing out. On weekends, while I'm taking the same pill, I don't have this experience. I worked my ass off on Saturday, cutting the grass, digging up a grass-covered spot around a tree, and planting Impatiens there. No trouble at all.
There's something I'm doing during my average workday that causes me to have unusual respiratory symptoms. I hope I'll figure it out before I totally pass out. |
|
|
I just discovered that here in 2009, people are still requesting return receipts on email. They're probably even relying upon them to determine whether or not someone has viewed their missives. For some reason, this has totally blown my mind.
For at least ten years, I've been using an email client called Becky Mail. Only one other person I know has ever actually used Becky Mail, and he's the one who introduced me to it. I'd make a reasonable guess that five-nines worth of Americans who use email on a daily basis have never heard of Becky Mail. I've evangelized Becky Mail to friends and coworkers, but I doubt any of them ever followed up.
Yet Becky Mail is a full-featured email client that does everything I need: secure IMAP over SSL/TLS, threading, filtering, IMAP folder support that works hand-in-hand with procmail, etc. Plus it's written with security in mind. HTML doesn't render by default, images don't load by default, and when I click a link in an email, a warning dialog pops up to prevent accidental malware launches (these settings can be overridden by the eager and trojan-prone). As far as I'm concerned, this is the perfect email client for the tech-savvy user. It'll do plain old POP and SMTP if that's the only challenge you pose, but it'll handle paranoid geeks' security requirements with equal finesse and integration. Becky Mail, with its default settings, mostly eliminates email as an attack vector for your enterprise.
What prompted this rant is that my Becky Mail settings at home differed from those at work, and I've just now noticed. One of Becky's options is "How to respond to a request for 'read receipt'." The options are "Ask User," "Respond Automatically," and "Ignore." At work, I'm set up to Ignore Disposition-Notification-To headers. At home, I'm set to Ask User. And so, when I happened to load a work-related email from home this evening, a dialog appeared asking whether or not I'd like to send a return receipt.
And I said, "fuck no."
I hope that over the past several years, I've not disappointed anyone at work by neglecting to send return receipts. I hope, as well, that my lack of return receipts - accompanied by my almost immediate response to most emails, proving that I'd read them even without issuing a disposition notification - has helped to condition at least a few fellow enterprise email users that return receipts aren't a guarantee of anything.
Not everyone uses Outlook, and some folks even use mutt. Even in 2009.
* I've been using pirated/cracked versions of Becky Mail until today. I just put forth the $40 to register the client. It's well overdue, and it's sort of ironic: some Outlook user's request for a return receipt prompted my registration of a shareware app. |
|
|
| C'mon, admit it, hearing veteran (and serious) narrator Thom Beers say "Nipples beside his anus connect to a potent chemical mix" made you chuckle, too. For the unenlightened, this phrase was uttered on episode 4 of Pitchmen. |
|
|
Tonight I'm sitting around watching Pitchmen on the Discovery Channel, when on comes a spot for WMC-TV's Action News 5 featuring none other than Joe Birch. I can't recall the last time I saw a local news station purchase ad time on cable to promote their broadcast. Someone's share must be down... Way down. I was at the WKNO studios on Tuesday for the first time in more than a decade, and even they don't have to buy time on cable. Intelligent people who care are already aware of WKNO's programming.
Gee, maybe laying off Donna Davis, Bill Lunn, and Dave Cera wasn't such a great idea after all. I switched to WREG and apparently a lot of others have done the same. |
|
|
Lately I've been receiving a lot of AIM spam for goforfling.com. IM spam is particularly annoying to me, because it's suddenly there in your face. Almost any IM is a productivity-killer (unless it's from a coworker), but they provide something of value, like a quick conversation. Spam IMs give me nothing but hassle, so when I get one I have a tendency to rage.
goforfling.com has sent me spam IMs in the past, last year if memory serves. So having them pop up on my radar again inspired me to track down who's responsible. Whois points to a Michael Evanchik with an email address of evanchik@gmail.com, but as unreliable as whois data can be, I thought I'd try to find some corroborating information.
As it turns out, goforfling.com is just a 302 redirect to an affiliate link to fling.com (an online dating site). The affiliate ID in the URL is mcbain942. That's a fairly unique userid and a quick check on Google brings up all sorts of things. He has a blog on BitComet, where in one of his posts we learn that his alternate email address is mikesecure@hotmail.com.
Looking that up, we can find a few more resources. He plays Halo 3, and has posted on bungie.net indicating that his Yahoo! Messenger account is mre224, and his AOL Instant Messenger account is McBain. There he alludes to mi7clan.com, which is no longer valid. The good McBain is also registered at the HTC Smartphone Wiki, where he gives his name as Michael Evanchik. Things are matching up.
He's also registered at Xiled Gaming, giving a birthdate of 02/24/1976. And he's posted on MSDN, too, providing a link to before0day.com. Whois for before0day.com points to the same registrant as goforfling.com, Michael Evanchik in Stamford, CT, evanchik@gmail.com. before0day.com returns a 503 Service Unavailable error, so if you were looking for some sort of security insight or negative-one day exploits, you're shit out of luck.
Mike has posted at Digital Gangster looking for a business partner. In this post he demonstrates his high ambitions and low spelling capabilities while trolling for someone who wants to "put down your useless proprietry tecnolgoy infomatoin and apply it to a main stream internet business." He defines his ideas and methods as "upmost elite" and his code as "upmost golden style," then goes on to berate readers by suggesting that it's unlikely he'll find a qualified candidate. The redemption is that the thread has an almost eBaums-like reply chain, where three different people have mockingly posted the same response: "if i wasnt so busy, i'd take this up... sounds like a great opportunity."
That's enough. I'm convinced that the goforfling.com AIM spammer is Michael Evanchik, whose personal details I've omitted out of courtesy. I sent him an IM on his AIM McBain account requesting that he remove my screen name from his spambot's target list, but it wound up going to his phone as a text message, and I never heard back*. If I'd received an affirmative response, I may not have posted all of this. Or maybe I would have anyway. I hate IM spam.
Also, a big shout-out to Deputy Ron Taylor, who I ran into while I was shopping tonight. Buckle up and slow it down! And you drink well too, my kind sir.
Update: On Friday, April 24, I began receiving AIM instant messages from the screen name "FBI mcbain" inquiring as to how I knew he was the goforfling.com spammer. I didn't bother to reply. However, "FBI mcbain" brings up further connections, such as another Bungie account and his Myspace page.
* I never heard back until I'd made this initial post. Suddenly, when I became the #1 result on Google for 'goforfling.com', I started getting hit up like cray-zee via IM, by the gentleman "FBI mcbain."
I'm thinking that just happens. Random idiots, and whatnot. |
|
|
Older Entries... (421 total, now viewing 11 - 20)
|
|
|
|