gwyn: (bucky confusedface)
Oh, I totally forgot to mention in my last post--you remember a while ago when someone had asked me about translating my Groundhog Day/time loop fic I can't remember how this started (but I can tell you exactly how it ends) into Russian, only they had to remove the comment in order to get help translating it through some kind of fest? And I thought it was so strange but it turned out to be some kind of fandom battle where teams compete against each other, so everything had to be anonymous? Well, the translation was posted the other day (or at least, I think it's still the same person involved, though the poster had a different user name, but I can't imagine who else would have been interested in translating it), so if you were ever inclined to read that fic in Russian, you can now! Не могу вспомнить, как это началось (но расскажу, как закончится) is here on AO3.

I also forgot to mention some of the TV I've been watching during recovery. There were some shows everyone told me required absolute attention, which is not often how I watch TV these days, so I kept saving them for when I'd have time to really watch.

The Expanse was the first one, and I can see why people like it (I've only seen the first season since it's free streaming on Amazon; I'm not gonna pay 20 bucks for the second season, though), but it suffered from the same thing that pretty much all SF and fantasy suffers from that I really, really hate: it's still largely a show about men, with one or two roles for "strong" women, who are stuck representing all of our gender. One woman on a spaceship with all guys, one woman in politics surrounded by all guys…I'm just so fucking weary. And the small supporting female roles are all defined by their relationships to men--the police captain or whatever she was, the other woman, both defined by their relationships to creepy skeevy Thomas Jane, Juliette Mao by defying her father, by the men she's dealt with in the past. Maybe the second season is better, I have to hope so. I like the worldbuilding, but this hundreds of years in the future and women are still barely in the story; I have no more patience for stories where we're writing alternate worlds that suffer from the exact same myopic shit we have now.

[personal profile] belmanoir watched GLOW with me, I think we saw the first three, maybe four, episodes? I liked it, but I have to agree with a lot of what I saw in complaints about the show--Ruth is a terribly unlikeable person to hang your show on from the beginning. Not being likeable isn't inherently bad, there are great shows with horrible characters at the center, but she doesn't have a strong enough character to make you want to follow her on the path to redemption the way a lot of those stories do--when you have an unlikeable protagonist, you really have to beef up a lot of the other things to make them compelling. The other problem we both had was that they're spending way, way too much time on the men and not enough on the secondary female characters. Especially the wrestling dynasty girl, I want to see way, way more of her, and I don't give a fuck about the men. It's a huge mistake to spend so much time on the skeevy director guy or Piz the producer, especially in a story about these women. The '80s stuff is hilarious, though, and I love the soundtrack and I'm interested to watch more, I just hate knowing that they're going to keep spending so much time on the guys.

I've seen the first few episodes of Sens8, and I'm baffled by why people love this so passionately. But I'm hoping it gets better as it goes along; as it is right now, the only character I care about is the Mexican actor and his boyfriend, but that's not a lot of screen time. I mean I get that people like it because it's one of the few shows with main storylines of gay and lesbian and trans people, and I can definitely understand that, plus there's the international stories instead of it being yet another subset of white America, but…nothing's sparking with me so far and some of the stories are so over the top ridiculously unbelievable and stupid that I'm gnashing my teeth--but I'll stick it out at least through the first season to see if it gets better.

I watched all of the first season of Bojack Horseman and…wow, was that fucking depressing. It's billed as a comedy, of course, but I never laughed once, not even at all the fun it pokes at Hollywoodd or the guest voices or anything. It's just so goddamn bleak. It took me a while to get past the bizarro concept (the style of the world, with animals being partly humanistic and partly animalistic, and vice versa, is something that creeps me out beyond words), but I really wanted to embrace the show because I know a lot of people who love it so much, but I didn't expect it to make me wish I'd never woken up after surgery. I sometimes feel like that's all that's left of the future, this sort of miserable existence where you're just wasting time till you die, and the show made me feel that x1,000. So thanks, show, for making my already suicidal tendencies even more pronounced.

I'm self soothing by watching the first three series of The Great British Bake Off, which they won't show here for inexplicable reasons (on PBS and Netflix, season 1 is actually season 5, and season 2 is season 4, which just…why). It was interesting to see how the show evolved. I was kind of disturbed by one contestant because she was so clearly an abused woman, she showed every behavior I ever saw working at the shelter years ago--either abused by a husband or possibly a parent farther back, but since there was no husband in any of the home segments or the finale and her children said some really telling things, I'm betting it was an ex-husband. Good on her for participating, though, but it made me really uncomfortable many times because I kept wondering if the producers realized how it was coming across on screen. Still, it's fun to go back and see some of the things I've heard about in the show but never saw, and the show honestly, even when you're tense for the people you want to win, is so pleasant.
gwyn: (middleman german film)
It's not like there are a lot of people waiting for updates, I realize, but I'm sorry it's been a while since I posted any news. I have bursts of energy and I still get drained really easily, or else I have weird pain that makes it hard to be in certain positions, or things like that. I've probably pushed a little too hard, too, on doing things just because I live alone and things must be done and there's just me to do them, but sometimes that leaves me completely sapped.

I've hit a depression valley, too. I don't know if it's similar to the post-surgery depression a lot of people get, and that I got after my gallbladder surgery, but that was also because I'd had a forced withdrawal from antidepressants at the time, I think I remember. This one feels a lot worse, and now the Republicans are trying to take health care away again, which is fueling my anxiety. I fucking told everyone they wouldn't let it lie, every time people were acting like it was a triumph last time I got really angry because I knew they wouldn't let go, and here we fucking are.

The other thing that's fueling it is that I'm having a hard time with this idea of being a cancer survivor--I mentioned to [personal profile] killabeez that I was watching something and a person described herself as being a two-time cancer survivor and it hit me that that was what I am now. My experience with cancer has largely been that no one survives, not for long anyway. I have a few friends who have, but by and large the people I know don't survive, and it's very strange to think of myself as someone who has had a cancer and now has to think ahead about staying a survivor. (And of course, this is the mother of all preexisting conditions now, so if that goes away, I'm basically fucked.) I find this trippy and depressing and frightening.

Most people I'd talked to (not the doctors, but most other people) made it sound like it was cut-and-done: you had the surgery and they took out the section with the tumor and that was it. But it's not that simple, as I found out in my two-week followup on Tuesday--I see her again in a month and then they'll want to do six-month tests for a while, as they want to make sure no tumor cells are floating around, waiting to attach to the colon again and grow. So there's the year follow-up colonoscopy, and the six-months blood work tests, and check-ups as well. I can get an oncologist, or I can follow up with the surgeon; I'm inclined to stay with her since I know her and I like her. the big problem will be insurance, as my insurance company is leaving the ACA exchange and the only other semi-decent one in the network wasn't working with my clinic last year, which is why I ended up with the insurance I had this year. They're all crooks, but I have to find the crook that will cover things with the clinic where my doctor and my surgeon practice, which seems impossible right now.

Otherwise I'm slowly recovering--today was rough, I'm having really sharp pains in my lower abdomen when I move a certain way, and I took off the steristrips on the smaller incisions which on one was a mistake, because now I have a huge gaping wound there that's way too big. The steristrip was really gross, though, because it was seeping, but I traded one problem for another.

I had a lot of trouble in the hospital with bleeding and stuff like that, I won't gross you out by telling you about some of the more alarming things, but one of the incisions bled a lot and kept staining my gowns, which I could not get them to acknowledge for a couple days. It left me with this incredible gross huge scab, but the surgeon just peeled the steristrip and the scab right off on Tuesday and wow let me tell you that hurt! So I thought, well, I can woman up and take the others off…ha ha ha. Bad move.

Anyhow, right now that's where I am--just trying to get better, trying not to let the post-apocalyptic atmosphere I came home to (with the city choking on smoke and the heat that's finally, finally broken today) depress me even more, and just trying to keep going in the face of everything.
gwyn: (pussypad kerry beary)
Advice time: since I got home, I've developed some kind of numbness/pain in the right shoulder blade that radiates along my arm. You'd think it could pick one--numb or pain--but no, it's both, and it's really uncomfortable and making it hard to find a way to sit or sleep that's not too hard on my abdominal stitches or makes the shoulder worse. I can't twist, so I can't really get back there and poke at it, and I can barely reach behind me. I think it's like a pinched nerve or a pinched…well, can muscles get pinched? I don't know, whatever it is is definitely becoming problematic.

Can anyone think of a way I could try to work this out, or is it something I'll need actual help for? I thought about trying to find a way to put a yoga ball behind my shoulder blade and roll it around but I can't figure a way to do that in my current state, which is basically big baby ball of pain.
gwyn: (box o kittens rahirah)
I am hooooome. Home sweet sweet home. I thought they would spring me yesterday but apparently the two doctors didn't agree on my condition so they kept me another night. Friday night was actually pretty bad with a lot of bloody drama (literally--my IV and shit tons of blood) but I had massive nausea and struggled to eat all day Saturday , and had a little temperature plus low blood pressure

But today I got out and of course I was so excited that I left the discharge instructions in the room so killabeez had to go back up to the hospital to get them since it was a holiday weekend and wouldn't be emailed till Tuesday. And it's four fuckthousand degrees out so that's definitely a pain.

I got some really good news though in spite of everything:they were able to get lab results and the cancer appears to have not spread into the wall of the colon or the lymph glands. Which means, hopefully, that it's just followup care and rechecks later, not further treatment or surgery. So that was awesome and makes getting through these first days easier.

Mr Blues has barely paid attention to me. All he cares about is that he can go outside again. Food is a bit of challenge but watermelon chunks are one thing that doesn't fill me with existential dread and magically killa had bought watermelon before bringing me home! So I'm all set up thanks to friends and Jo has been watering my plants and today brought a huge bouquet of sunflowers and dahlias over.
gwyn: (spinaltap infinitemonkeys)
This is Gwyneth Actual reporting in from high atop the tenth floor of Swedish Hospital in Seattle. I am doing OK but still in a fair amount of pain. It's really hard to get up and down from the bed but after a really bad night last night things have improved a bit today. I can't believe how terrible it is to post from mobile on DW, geez. Between the gown falling off me all the time and the IV falling down and pulling it makes trying to type on this thing miserable. This is infuriating.

The surgeon says that the tumor was super small and that that everything went well. The results for what stage the cancer is won't be in till next week with the Labor Day holiday. Which is frustrating obviously because there're lots of questions about that and whether there's chemo or anything in my future.

The hardest thing at first was that I woke up in searing pain in my right eye--a cornea scratch that hurt far worse but that they couldn't be arsed to treat. I guess either they taped my eyelids over an eyelash or I scratched it or something who knows but it took forever for them to deal with it and the room was full of blinding light so that made it about 1,000 times worse. I guess they happen all the time, I was talking with a friend about what happened to her during her surgery, but I never had that before and I gotta say, it was pretty bad.

I've had lots of visitors, and mostly I'm just really tired all the time. This morning I had so much trouble keeping my eyes open and holding onto my phone. I basically had to wait all day to make this post because I'm just so out of it. They put me on a solid diet tonight, so I had some bacon which everyone thought was weird because it's very heavy, but I knew I wouldn't be likely to actually try to eat anything, so I better get something that I really enjoy the taste of. I think 2 1/2 pieces was actually pretty good!

I might get to go home by tomorrow afternoon or Sunday morning if I keep the solid food down and move to pain pills instead of an IV. That would be great.
gwyn: (Default)
Hi, [personal profile] gwyn's circle! This is [personal profile] minim_calibre posting for Gwyn to let you know that her surgery's over and we've been told that it went well!!! (Those exclamation points were in the original notification I got, for the record. I'm a big fan of them, personally.)

Here's to smooth healing. Preferably with more !!!s.

gwyn: (steve rogers shield)
Celluloid Hero (33916 words) by gwyneth rhys
Chapters: 7/?
Fandom: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Golden Age Hollywood Actors
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Steve Rogers, Bette Davis, John Garfield, USO Tour Dancers (Marvel), Original Characters, Barbara Stanwyck, Gene Tierney, William Powell, Cary Grant, Randolph Scott, Jack Warner, Delmer Daves, Ida Lupino, Hedy Lamarr
Additional Tags: Golden Age Hollywood, Hollywood Canteen, World War II, The Star-Making Machinery, Propaganda, someone's going to get his V-card punched, and by someone I mean Steve, Letters, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, First Motion Picture Unit, Pining Steve, Period Typical Everything

The talk of the town last night was Captain America’s star-spangled appearance at the Hollywood Canteen, where the ladies swooned and the gentlemen cheered. Rumor has it he will be meeting with studio heads to discuss bringing his patriotic man with a plan to the silver screen.

Finally, a chapter update! Chapter 7, in which Steve has some script notes, and gets his v-card punched by the world's most beautiful woman.
gwyn: (steve rogers fullhouse)
I haven't really cried since they told me I had cancer; I've gotten a little leaky in the eyes but no real crying. Apparently all it takes to open the floodgates is to work really hard on a fic-podfic collaboration, even when I was trying to process the news and my original teammate went AWOL, and post it and get absolutely zero comments. Amazing. Just…nothing. I finally gave up checking email and went to bed when sineala was kind enough to leave one for it. It's a new record low, and apparently that was the stimulus it required to cry.

Just reminded me more than ever that I'm going through this alone. I appreciate the comments from my other post, I do, but the thing is, what I'm talking about is being alone in real space. Sitting at a computer typing into the void or texting or whatever are physically painful acts for me, so all the listening in the world doesn't change the fact that I don't have anyone here for me and I'm disinclined toward more physical pain just to whine on the aether. People lead busy lives, it's the end of summer when everyone has plans--and my plans just happen to revolve around something really unfortunate that has inconvenient timing. Almost everyone I know who's had cancer got through it with the help of a partner or family member.

In other news, the "advanced recovery" nutrition drinks are really as awful as everyone says; they're so grossly sweet on top of this weird musky-metallic taste, ugh. I have to drink three of them a day, and bring the log sheet with me to surgery, like a test. I bought the apple juice I'm supposed to drink day of surgery but apparently no one sells apple juice in less than enormous bottles, and picked up the antibiotics and laxative drink. I was so hoping it might be a different laxative drink than the one I had before, which made me vomitous, but it's the same thing. Someone told me you could put it in tequila mixer to make it more palatable, but it's not so much the taste the bothers me (it just tastes like bad gatorade) but the consistency. For the surgery they apparently want you to concentrate the drinking of it over two limited time frames, which makes it worse; it took me hours to get through it last time because I kept getting the heaves.

All this while I'm supposed to be laundering everything I own that will touch me after the special shower-soap showers. I'm not sure if it'd be better to just have the hospital hose you down in a Silkwood shower when you check in--for the gallbladder surgery, I'd spent six hours vomiting before going to the ER, where I had to wait in the lobby for over an hour lying on the floor because it was the only way I wasn't in searing pain. I figure that's about as unsanitary as it gets, and I seemed to be fine. I understand why they do this--my mom's death was probably caused by an infection, sepsis of some kind that she'd picked up in the hospital in chemo--but man does it feel like overkill.

I'm going to try to post the next chapter of the Hollywood Steve WIP tomorrow, but I've written down where I was hoping to take it, and the three followup stories I wanted to write, and sending to minim calibre in case something happens to me. I hate the thought of that not getting finished, and so hopefully either she can, or she can find someone else to, write the rest of it. If only I could find someone to finish the Buffy WIP I abandoned years ago after sis_r died. I figure things are in good hands with min, though. God knows she's listened to me blather about this, and helped me with it so much in beta.
gwyn: (bucky steve mouths)
A Bullet in the Barrel of Your Best Guy’s Gun (6456 words) by gwyneth rhys, reena_jenkins
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes
Additional Tags: Uniform Kink, Costume Kink, But You're Keeping the Outfit Right?, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Anal Fisting, Rimming, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Steve Feels, Podfic, Pervertibles, Kitchen Supplies As Lube, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Community: pod_together, Pod_Together 2017
Series: Part 2 of Star-Spangled

“So that’s what this is about. Wanted to see if I remembered enough to be your little Pavlov’s dog if you wore the outfit.” He slipped his hands into the back of the trunks and gently tugged them down. “Well, pal, I am here to tell you: woof woof.”

My podficcing partner pinch-hitter [ profile] reena_jenkins had the idea to make a fanmix related work of Bucky's sexy playlist from the story, which you can also download and listen to--it was my original partner's and my headcanon that they unironically loved Barry White and other '70s R&B stylings, that it would mesh seamlessly with their love of music from their era like Billie Holiday. She added some great stuff from the '80s and '90s that I'd never even heard before. You can check it out and download here.
gwyn: (al cheers)
Tomorrow I have to start the first steps for getting ready for surgery--they make you drink this Ensure-type drink called ImmunoBoost or something, three cartons a day for five days before the procedure. I guess it's supposed to help your body recover faster or something. Then by end of weekend I have to start a small diet change, and then take antibiotics, before I have to do the insane ritual special soap shower, which I bought today, and take the vile liquid they make you drink to clean out your colon (it's like drinking gatorade-flavored cooking oil). I'm confused about why you take antibiotics when you're just going to shit them out, but whatever. I also have to get a very specific carbohydrate drink for the day of the procedure. Just the laundering everything/special shower stuff is going to drive me crazy alone. (Also, I can't find any of the Popsicle flavors I want/am allowed to have, anywhere, and you can't eat these modern fancy pops because they're not clear liquids, they have pieces of stuff in them.)

I'm feeling really depressed, and as I was telling minim calibre last night, I'm having this constant erratic beating or pounding of my heart, and it's freaking me out because sometimes I'm so stressed I feel like I'm having a heart attack, and I worry this could be very bad for the anesthesia. Some of this is worry about my situation, but it's compounded by trying to help people I know who are in bad straits. I feel really alone, and a lot of the people who were there at the beginning are noticeably absent now, I guess it's no longer glamorous two months on--not to mention many of the people who do want to see me or talk to me aren't doing it because I want to, but because it's about making themselves feel good, like if I die they'll have done their duty of being a pal or something and mostly I just would be fine with them going away.

The times when I'm loneliest and most scared are late at night, and there's no one to talk to at that hour. The past few days, my lower abdomen has felt kind of bad, and it's making me worry that maybe the tumor has gotten bigger, that all this waiting's made the situation a lot worse. That's not helping.

Plus I get either the victim blaming or concern trolling (my diet, my weight, my lifestyle, my whatever) or the helpful information version of victim blaming: it's dairy (because it's not like people across many cultures have eaten other types of dairy like sheep or goat or horse milk for centuries, or even cow dairy, and didn't get cancer), it's carbs (ignoring the fact that carbs are actually an important part of diet and for some of us high protein/fat is actually dangerous, and there's a reason they make you drink carbohydrate drinks before and after surgery, and also, millions of people eat carbs without getting cancer), it's refined sugar (which, I admit, I use too much of probably, but since sweet is one of the few things I enjoy taste-wise, and millions of people eat way, way more sugar than I do and don't get cancer, I'm not buying it), it's gluten (which many people enjoy without getting cancer, and if you don't actually have physical conditions or problems with gluten, it's not going to give you colon cancer anyway), it's blah blah whatever thing you are currently believing all the bad press about.

Everyone seems to think I have some kind of team behind me, despite telling them repeatedly that I don't--no oncologist, no therapist, no nothing. I learned really fast that people don't listen to most of what I say, because I have to keep repeating myself. I'm kind of dreading going to the hospital because my ex wants to take me and it makes sense--he lives basically about ten blocks away, but he drives me bug-shagging crazy because he never listens and I have to tell him the same damn shit over and over, and he gets really fluttery and panicky. He texted me last night with "where do I drop you [at the hospital]? Address??" and I was like, okay, I've told you three times that it's Swedish on Broadway and James and you could look up the damn address yourself, and also, just because I said you didn't have to stay does not mean I want to be dumped on the fucking doorstep. If you don't have time or want to come in to the hospital with me till they walk me through reg, then let me know because I want to find someone else." I well remember his selfish, childish hatred of hospitals when I needed him, when we were together and my mom was sick. It was one of many things that led to us splitting.

Anyways. Tomorrow is also the day my fic and the accompanying podfic for the [community profile] pod_together goes live. I started this thing before the diagnosis, and to say it's been a wild ride is putting it mildly. I absolutely did not want to write the story I ended up writing, but it seemed like my original teammate didn't like the idea I loved, so somehow I ended up writing 6k of metal hand fisting, I don't even know. I never wanted to write a sequel to Man With a Plan, but here we are. The good news is that, because it was such a rollercoaster experience, and lifestuff happened with me and my teammate, [ profile] reena_jenkins, who has created some wonderful podfics of my stuff before, came in as a pinch hitter a couple weeks ago and she did an amazing job. She suggested we turn Bucky's sexy playlist into a fanmix, so that'll go live with the story--she had some great song ideas to fill in the gaps of my '90s and early aughts knowledge, and it turned out pretty cool, I think.

She also, as a runup to our challenge pieces going live, recorded a podfic of Man With a Plan, the "you're keeping the outfit, right?" porn I wrote a few years ago. Which is so above and beyond the call of duty. If you ever wished you could hear a podfic of Man With a Plan, well, you can now, thanks to Reena's amazing powers!
gwyn: (ordinary day _silent_rage_)
Perfect morning: Iced tea, bowl of cereal, cat, back deck lounge chair, nearly total eclipse of the sun. We had 92% totality in Seattle, and I could just sit on my lounger and watch. It was amazing. I guess a lot of people in my area got fog, but it was clear as a bell at my house.

I'd been so focused on the cancer stuff that I missed the opportunity to get glasses--the last time we had an eclipse visible here, there was no such thing as fancy glasses, and when they started posting about places you could get them it was too late to do mail order (also they were fakes) for me, and people on our local blog were driving around and calling, desperately trying to track more down. I wasted a lot of time, and mentioned it on the thread--that I'd been so busy with my health I hadn't thought about the eclipse at all and was bummed I couldn't get the glasses (I've done pinhole viewers, but…they're not as cool).

A really nice guy told me he had some spares, and his wife, who works at the Y where I'm a member, brought them with her and I picked them up last week. I'm so grateful to them, so grateful. It was amazing to be able to watch through the glasses. I stayed till every last piece of the moon was gone. Even with sunscreen I'm sure I'll be burned. It was totally worth it.

I've seen two other solar eclipses, but was too young for the first one to really appreciate it, and like I said, the pinhole boxes don't have the same view. I feel like if I croak in surgery next week or afterwards, I'm good. Got to see a big one, and it was wonderful.

I can see why ancient people were spooked by these: the shadows got really long, the sky was dimmer while at the same time the sun was pouring down, the temperature dropped by a few degrees. Blues was definitely confused--he could tell something was going on, and he ended up under the bed for a while. It was eerily silent, too, at totality. This is garbage day in my area, there is always construction going on around here in summer, there are usually people walking dogs and cars driving by. At peak time, it was utterly silent: no noisy, smelly trucks, no people walking, no construction noise. Everyone was watching the eclipse.
gwyn: (beaten cap shield)
Man, I think I have to throw in the towel on trying to figure out what people will respond to. I thought for sure, what with Star Wars being a much, much bigger fandom in general than Captain America, that Battleflag would be the Vividcon entry that would do well out there in the world. But it's just sort of sunk into a void, and Chase You Down, which I thought was a weaker vid, is getting more hits and definitely has more notes on Tumblr and comments here. I was actually really happy with how Battleflag turned out, despite the difficulties, and I thought people would like it…

It's cool that people enjoyed Chase You Down, because I didn't think they would (I mean, admittedly I would have loved it if so many people hadn't qualified it with telling me how much they hate Bucky generally), but I just honestly thought Battleflag would be the one people would respond to.

Anyways. Today I went to see the doctor who runs the genetic testing office at my clinic, he's also a breast cancer specialist and surgeon. They were giving me the results from the spit-in-a-tube thing I mentioned a few weeks ago, to see if I had the genetic mutations for ovarian cancer (for those new here, my twin sister died at 45 of ovarian cancer complications, and so there was a concern that they should take out my ovaries during my colon cancer surgery at the end of the month). I've been…pretty much planning since sis_r died for it, that that was what I was gonna die from, or melanoma. So I was really surprised when they told me I don't have the markers, and my risk was not elevated.

There's a whole bunch of other stuff that I won't bore you with--other higher risk factors because of my sister and just my general body--but they asked me what I wanted to do during the surgery, if I'd prefer to keep the tubes and ovaries or meet with an obgyn surgeon and plan to remove them, and I didn't know how to answer. I was just gobsmacked: I've planned for this news for so long that I had no idea how I was supposed to decide. There's not a lot of time to meet with another surgeon, and I don't know if insurance will pay for this considering I don't have the gene markers, so I decided to just focus on the colon surgery and whatever happens after that.

I mean, to be honest, I'd love to take them out, but that's an expense I could absolutely not afford and considering what kind of bills I'm already getting for co-insurances and whatnot, I don't feel really positive about them paying for it, nor do I have the time and spoons to navigate the insurance maze. So I'm just staying the course, I guess. He outlined a bunch of breast health stuff for me, since my risk just based on heredity is higher, and I loathe mammograms but I sort of saw it coming that they were going to want to increase my frequency of them. God I hate them, I always end up bruised everywhere and in so much pain, and I hate being touched like that, ugh. But at least I don't have the genetic cancer mutations. Seriously, if it wasn't major surgery, I'd cut these things off happily.
gwyn: (steve rogers fullhouse)
I realized after I told people the story of how this came to be that I was telling it wrong, but here's the actual story. I wanted to make this initially as a Stucky vid, but I felt like I've made so many it was ridic, but I knew I couldn't make it as just a SteveSam vid, because there wasn't enough footage. So then I dithered about whether I should make it as both of them, but I worried that it would be unevenly divided because there's so much more useful Steve and Bucky clips, and I was telling [personal profile] killabeez about that and she said, well, if I was making this, I'd do that last verse as Natasha, because no one would see that reversal of her chasing Steve coming. And I gasped: "Peggy!" I said and she went "Oooooohhhhhh." I was excited to get started and became agonizing. It was so hard to make sure that the POV characters landed on the "I"s and the chased characters landed on the "you"s. This was so hard, and I never did feel like the switch in POV worked. But people seemed to enjoy it, which I guess is what matters in the end. So here, have a vid about the bisexual America deserves.

On AO3 | On Tumblr
gwyn: (nebula blue wizzicons)
Sometime when I'm back from the con I'll write up the insane story of all the technical difficulties involved with making this vid. In the meantime, have some Star Wars resistance.

On AO3 here and on Tumblr here.

Your construction
Smells of corruption
I manipulate, to recreate
This air, to ground saga
Gotta launder, my karma
I said hallelujah, to the sixteen loyal fans
You're gettin' down on your muthafuckin' knees
And it's time for your sickness again
Come on and tell me what you need now
Tell me what is making you bleed
We got two more minutes and
We gonna cut to what you need
So one of six so tell me
One do you want to live
And one of seven tell me
Is it time for your muthafuckin' ass to give
Tell me is it time to get down on your muthafuckin' knees
Tell me is it time to get down

I'm blown to the maxim
Two hemispheres battlin'
Suckin' up, one last breath
Take a drag of the death

Hey Mr. Policeman
There's a time for getting away
There's a time for driving down the mother fuckin' road
And running from your ass today

Now tell me if do you agree now
Or tell me if I'm makin' you bleed
I got a few more minutes and
I'm gonna cut to what you need
So one of six so tell me
One do you want to live
And one of seven tell me
Is it time for your muthafuckin' ass to give
Tell me is it time to get down on your muthafuckin' knees
Tell me is it time to get down

Got a revolution behind my eyes
We got to get up and organize

(A new production of a new breed
Leaders stand up, organise)

Will be available for download at my vids site at once I'm home next week.
gwyn: (annie screaming grosserpepper)
I leave tomorrow for Vividcon, before dawn, and I'm just terrified about leaving Blues--we're under an excessive heat warning for the next few days, and even when it gets "cooler" it's still listed as being in the high 80s F and the 90s, and we mostly don't have AC in homes here. I dithered about getting one, because I not only can't lift one by myself, but they're crazy expensive, and now it's too late and Blues is probably going to get heat stroke and die. My house gets into the 90s when it's that hot, and the only way you can cool it off is by opening the front and back doors once the sun sets; there won't be anyone to do that and my cat sitter, who comes by during the day, will not be likely to open the doors for fear of Blues escaping. I'm very afraid for him. I'm really kicking myself for not just accepting defeat and buying the damn unit and trying to find some way to get it in the house. Plus the cat sitter will roast alive. I also can't leave windows open too much because it'd be so easy to just break right in.

People always tell me to sleep with my windows open but I can't, they have to be down in the opened-locked in the few rooms that allow that, which is only about three inches. My house is ground floor, easy access, and a few years back not too far from here a woman and her partner were brutally assaulted/murdered by a guy who just shimmied their windows open during a heat wave. When you're a woman alone, that's not the best option. Plus, it was weather just like this that made me lose Olive two years ago, she didn't want to get shut up in the broiler of a house.

All I can do is have the sitter pet him with wet brushes or cloths, and put ice cubes in his water, and run the fans when she's here. I'd have her leave the fans on, but I'm so paranoid about things overheating and catching fire; I've seen it too many times. And speaking of fires: the wildfires that are consuming BC are so bad that the smoke is hanging over Seattle. The past two days it's been so hazy you can't see across the water to the Seattle skyline; my eyes are stinging and it's very difficult to breathe at times. But of course, global warming is a myth.

I don't know how much of a good time I'm going to be able to have being this worried about the house and Blues. The way things feel right now, I can't bear the thought of anything happening to him. He's all I've got. But the vids are all queued up on YouTube, and the plane tickets are printed, and I guess it'll be what it'll be. As bad as that is.

Be the one

Jul. 30th, 2017 12:05 pm
gwyn: (sam wilson falcon)
First, my friend [personal profile] spasticat is struggling right now, and could use some $$ help until she can find a new job. She has a link to her post about it here, if you can help.

Second, I haven't been doing these types of memes for a long while, but these days I feel like I can use all the positivity I can get, so I'm doing the fic positivity dreamwidth meme.

my thread here

Third, nothing special, I just wanted to share the incredibly sweet thing [ profile] auslandischwasser sent me the other day. It's a copy of the huge Stucky fanbook Not Without You, a copy of dorkbait's beautiful Inktober drawings collection Saudade, a really neat historical photos collection about Coney Island and the area, and a Bucky!Cap Funko Pop bobblehead. Isn't that so incredibly sweet and thoughtful? She even took the time at the con she picked up the first two things at to have Saudade signed.
gwyn: (flashpoint asshat)
Thursday I had to be out of the house for a while, because the new house cleaners I was trying out--the house has gotten so bad, especially after the puppies, and I haven't been able to keep up OR afford cleaning help, but I realized I was going to have to suck it up and do it because I've gotten very work busy and life busy, what with the tumor and all--were coming to do an initial deep cleaning. I took my laptop up to Starbucks by my house, because I discovered years ago that for some reason, I can write better when there's a noise level of constant talk and activity around me. I don't like it when someone gets either really close and talks across me to someone else, especially if they are very loud or have piercing voices, but most of the time this doesn't happen.

I also have a particular (tall) table I prefer where I can stand or sit as my back needs, but it's often not empty, so I stand at the counter right next to this table or at the window. You're sort of close by the people around you there, but that's okay, because I still can tune most of it out and the activity helps me focus. I find that really strange, but since it works, I use it.

I was feeling pretty low--the transgender thing had happened the day before, which really affects people I care for, and then there was the whole thing with that fucking narcissistic fartbag McCain voting to proceed with repeal debate, and I was just…having trouble concentrating on writing the next chapter of Celluloid Hero even with my favorite table. This older guy sat down to wait for his order pretty close by me, at the window--he was dressed in head to toe cyclist spandex with the logos and ridic colors, which always makes me roll my eyes, and he kept checking his phone, and then his wife joined him and they moved over so they were basically sitting right next to me. There's a particular breed of older Northwest liberal I dislike, because they're always the ones who talk about how progressive they are and what they did in the '70s and whatever, but in the end they have Gary Johnson or Jill Stein signs in their yards and they're freaked out by the actual reality of LGBTQ lives, and I just sort of thought he and his wife might be one of those.

I wrote, and tuned their conversation out, which was relatively easy at first because the wife's voice was quiet and the husband was keeping it relatively low key, with a few outbursts, but then his voice kept rising and he was increasingly agitated, so I couldn't help but listen at that point. He railed about "what difference does it make to anyone" and I think I heard "gender shouldn't mean anything except to the person who feels it" and something about people who are serving their country unlike that asshole who calls himself a president and how little gender reassignment costs in the budget, and then their voices lowered again and the woman went off to the restroom.

They talked more when she came back, because he'd been checking his phone, and then he REALLY got worked up, spitting about what a douchebag asshole McCain is and how evil these people are to want millions of Americans to die while they get taxpayer funded fantastic health care, and I lost track of what he was saying, but the wife silently put a hand on husband's shoulder and he stopped, kind of half laughing, and started going, "Grrrarraughargfrraaarrr" with little monster hands, making fun of himself and his incoherent rage. Then he more calmly proceeded to rail against the fucking republicans and the giant dickbag in the white house.

It made me happy in my heart. It made me laugh when he mocked himself, and that's been in pretty short supply lately, and it made me happy to hear someone in that age/social class/values system not be a transphobic jerk--I salute you, old spandex guy and your hilariously tolerant partner, and here's hoping there's more of you out there in future.
gwyn: (8ball wizzicons)
Today's my least favorite day once again. The date I lost Miss Olive two years ago, and I'm not over it--I think about her every day, and miss her, especially now. I could really use her soft, soft fur and sweet purrs and funny little voice when she talked to me all the time. And it's the day we lost Sandy, which I'm never gonna be over, either. With Vividcon ending next year it feels even more like losing Sandy all over again.

Basically July 19 is just a terrible horrible no good very bad day.

I'm trying to get things done in anticipation of the surgery and whatnot, but it's really hard. Not only is there a lot to do, the bills are starting to come in, and I'm getting really depressed about it. I haven't had enough work so far this year, but even though I suddenly have a bunch of stuff coming in, it's not going to be paid for a while yet. Even with the ACA still hanging on, this country is majorly fucked up about health care costs, and it's pretty easy to go bankrupt even with insurance.

Last night we went to see the documentary Score, about composing music for films, at this teeeny local theatre that was the first art house in Seattle way back in the '60s. I hadn't known it was still in business--it's run by vounteers now, and the lobby is now a restaurant so the actual theatre is about one-tenth the size it used to be. The movie was great--if you have a chance to watch it, you should: there were some really good reminiscences by directors and other composers about some of the legends, and interviews with all kinds of fascinating film composers, plus a glimpse into the process of recording film scores.

My only complaints were one I shared with feochadn, which was that a guy went on and on about King Kong (the first real movie score) being cheesy and stupid, and that the music was the only thing that helped audiences get over the cheesy and stupid, which is utterly, patently false and doesn't understand the audience dynamic at the time the original King Kong was released. And my second gripe was that as they talked about modern scores and unique or avant garde approaches, they interviewed and spent quite a bit of time following the guy who did the utterly forgettable Age of Ultron score instead of spending any time with Henry Jackman, who did the Winter Soldier score, which most people I know still talk about with a certain amount of awe. Especially because I think it would have dovetailed nicely with talking about the "game-changing" soundtrack for the Social Network by Trent Reznor (I'm not one of the people who think it was game-changing, but whatever), and they did talk to Henry Jackman, but only for a microscopically short time. Plus, they didn't list Winter Soldier in his credits, and that was…weird to me. And it's not my own blind prejudice for anything related to Winter Soldier--I've read so many people talking about the amazing things he did with that score, especially regarding the Soldier himself, and it just seems like a huge missed opportunity in the modern section…and instead we got fucking Ultron. I'd defy anyone to remember anything unique or special about the music in that movie. But I still definitely recommend seeing Score if you can, and stay for the credits and James Cameron's dicussion of James Horner's score for Titanic. (It's in a couple cities right now, and rolling around other parts of the country for the next few months--you can find out where on the web site linked above.)

I wish I knew how you find a therapist. I am very lonely and depressed, and there's no one to talk to here, but I just don't know how you go about finding someone you mesh with, and who's competent, and one you can afford (the importance of either can be switched). I mean, I've met some truly shitty people in RL who I find out later are therapists and it's like O.o so the idea of going into this cold doesn't thrill me.
gwyn: (middleman german film)
::glares at [personal profile] kore for getting Gap Band stuck in my head::

What a weird day today. It started by getting up earlier than I would like, especially since I couldn't sleep last night, to talk to the people who help me out with the ginormous garden that I can no longer manage by myself. Then I had to go off to an appointment with the genetic counseling specialists, who were going to do an intake evaluation before setting up an appointment with the doctor later. I thought it was just going to be me answering questions about my history (my repetitive answer: I don't know, because outside of questions about my sister, I have no idea what my family history is as I'm adopted) but it turned out to involve all this strange stuff.

First they asked me questions and the nurse doing the interview was…odd and not a very effective communicator, and then they told me I'd have to do another blood draw and I was very unhappy about that, because one of the reasons I'd gone in for a blood draw after the CT scan was so they'd be able to run all these tests. It's nearly impossible to get a vein on me and I just finally got rid of the awful bruises from the last one and the CT scan and I'm really sick of them, and she didn't seem to understand it well but there was an alternative that involved spitting a lot, or at least she seemed to think so. We agreed to that (like, I had to tell her three times that yes, I would prefer that test), and then they make you watch this little video from the genetic testing company, and then call the number on the phone there where you'll talk to yet another person about the same sorts of questions.

I was supposed to meet up with someone afterward, and when I finished watching the video I had to send them email saying I wouldn't be there at the appointed time--which, ha ha, turned out to be unnecessary because the little video tablet was an hour off; I'd seen 3:08 and wondered how the hell it had been over an hour when it turned out it had only been about 40 minutes. It's…annoying to have to keep explaining my situation over and over, and then listen to the obligatory sympathy. It's not that I don't appreciate their kind wishes and their condolences about my sister, I do, I really do. It's just that, I don't know, I thought all this paperwork was going through and instead they were asking me why I was there/calling, as though this was satisfying curiosity on my part or something. I had to keep explaining that the surgeon wanted to see if I had genetic markers for ovarian cancer so we could determine what, if anything, should be done while I'm in surgery for the tumor removal.

Anyway, after a lot of fumbling and confusion, they brought me this little kit, and I had to spit into this funnel to a certain line, and then mix it with some kind of liquid. It…is really, really hard to generate that much spit in a short amount of time. So, lesson for using it as lube in slash stories--unless your human is super drooly, they're probably not going to be able to do that (and spit is terrible lube anyway).

She didn't seem to know what she was doing, and so I'm not confident about this, but it goes off to their lab and then supposedly they call me and we move forward. I kept asking about insurance, and no one would really talk to me about it--they said that once they call me, I can decide to go forward or not, but if insurance won't cover this, I know it's very expensive and it's not something I can really think about, considering the costs I'll incur from major surgery. But it was frustrating, because no one was committing to what had to be done re: insurance, and how I find out whether this is covered or not. Since my insurance company is weaseling out of the ACA exchange next year, I have this terrible feeling they'll be a lot less willing to approve things for those of us who get our insurance that way, because they're evil sons of bitches and should all die in a fire.

So I finally got out of there with very dry mouth, and traffic both ways had been kinda hellacious so my back was really screaming a lot, but I couldn't meet up with my friends, and just went home. I'm trying to get rid of stuff lately, purging a lot of things, and I had this very expensive thing up on Craigslist for a good price, and this woman kept jerking me around about coming to see it, but finally she showed up at 8 and then proceeded to push me into a corner on the price and I felt just tired and bad enough that I went, fine, whatever. I took an instant dislike of her, and she wanted to know about this nearby restaurant but I was thinking, ugh, go away, take the damn thing and stop talking to me about how cute my neighborhood is and how you want to move to West Seattle and what a hard day you're having.

All I could think was "bitch, I have cancer" and that made me want to laugh. So that's my new mantra, and I'm combining it with something a friend told me to do, which is start making a list of, like, all the dog breeds you can name in your head when people are talking about things you don't want to hear, which they are doing A LOT of lately. I'd forgotten, since it's been a while, how much everyone loves to tell you what to think/feel/do when you get sick.
gwyn: (steve rogers shield)
Just a little vignette for Steve's 99th birthday.

We Could Just Run Them Red Lights (3030 words) by gwyneth rhys
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes
Additional Tags: Service Dogs, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Bucky Barnes the Dog Whisperer
Series: Part 3 of War Dogs

Steve wanted a different celebration: to honor a part of their past and move forward into a new kind of future.


And I woke up to the most wonderful surprise today: [ profile] reena_jenkins posted a podfic of Dream of Caramel: or, A Recipe for Disaster, and it's just delightful! She has an amazing reading of Clint, a special guest for his inner all-caps monologues, and makes fantastic use of the music that runs through Clint's head throughout the story. I can't wait to listen to more. If you've ever wondered what a podfic of that story would be like, now you can hear it!

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