I'm Back!

Ok, so I've been back, just a little, um...busy? Sort of?

So, I know I owe you all a report on our trip to Puerto Rico (short version: the Ritz has crap coffee and is across the street from the cockfights. I wish I were kidding) and I've got something else of import coming up in a few days but I wanted to post a quick note pertaining to a subject very close to my heart.

Well, not so much my heart as it is my butt. Yes, we're going there.

We are now in the month of ides, Guinness, lions and lambs but also awareness. March is coloRECTAL (sing it!) cancer awareness month. You all know my story by now, so I will spare a rerun, but it is my duty (or is that doody?) to deliver the following PSA as a CRC veteran.

Colorectal cancer--and all cancers, really--does not discriminate, nor is it logical. I am proof of the fact that you can be so low risk as to be practically risk-free and still get The Cancer. It is critical that you remain ever vigilant and tuned into the ebbs and flows of your body.

It is up to you to inform your doctor of any irregularities, whether it be unexplained weight loss, weakness, bleeding, changes in bowel habits (translation: they look different, happen more/less frequently, etc).

If things have been amok for a while and are not improving, be the squeaky wheel. You must be your own advocate. And if your doc tries to pass them off as hemmorrhoids, have him/her give me a call. You know I love a good excuse to read someone the riot act.

Spread the word, and if symptoms warrant, spread your cheeks. I've said it before, but I'll say it again:

If your doody is red, get your pooper inspected!
Oh and PS, contrary to what you've heard, the prep is the second worst part of a colonoscopy. The worst worst part is being told you have cancer.

An Open Letter to a Lazy Ass Contractor

Dear house renovation guy,

When you came to take a look at our place to give us a bid on how much the various insulation projects around the house would cost, you were a consummate professional: knew your stuff, didn't talk down to me just because I have a vagina, and we even connected on a have-lived-everywhere level. I dropped the hint that we had bigger renos in our future with the idea that if this project went well, there could be more $$ down the road.

But that was three weeks ago. THREE WEEKS and it's only getting colder here in Southern Canada and I would really like to have these projects at least STARTED before the snow falls.

When I called you last week (Wednesday? Thursday maybe?), you said that you were in the office and hoped to get the quote to me that day. I said that I'd look forward to reading it by the end of the week (wanted to give you a little cushion) and that was the last I heard from you.

Now, I know that I'm not your #1 priority, but it would at least be nice to get the sense that I'm at least in the queue for services. I mean, I thought that with the housing market (and really, the whole flipping economy) in the tank, all you guys were scrambling for work? No?

I'm starting to have the feeling I would get back in my dating days (aka The Dark Ages) when I would call a guy and he'd be all "yeah, we should do something, I'll call you when I know my schedule" and then he wouldn't call and I'd be all "BITCHCAKES!" and would curse the phone and eventually go out with my friends and get pissed at a local bar and then run into the guy as I was coming out of the mens' room (the ladies' was occupado, of course) and then have this totally awkward conversation since I had seen him flirting with a half dozen blondes earlier and had written something nasty about him on the chalkboard over the toilet.

So, I'm going to do as Jody has said and vote with my feet and if you do come crawling back, I will expect some courtesy discount for my trouble (10% should just about do it).

Sincerely,
Crankymouth