The post below is being re-created as it seems to have gotten lost in the transfer. Either that, or I’ve gone plum crazy. I swear I posted it and could see it. I thought it was only Facebook who couldn’t find it that day, but today it is gone from the blog, from my email, from everywhere and the portion left on the back end is just the very beginning of the initial draft. I’m sure it was so brilliant that it vaporized so as not to put everyone in shock and awe. Here is some of what it said: (less the really brilliant parts. I can’t recreate that)
After posting the last blog, I got busy researching new hosting sites and found one that will even transfer my site for me! Hello SiteGround.
I have 30 days to test it with moneyback guarantee, and was able to get another low price to park my blog at, so I will keep the site up. Hopefully it shows up on the new hosting site all in one piece and looking normal.
I put in the ticket to transfer the site and almost immediately, a seemingly young tech named Nikolay was already working on it and messaged that the user name and login to the previous site wasn’t working for him. I provided a different link for the login and again was told it did not work. It would seem that Nikolay could not work with incomplete information provided by me. What kind of tech support was this that couldn’t figure out what I meant instead of what I actually typed? I decided not to hold it against them.
Nikolay was finally able to log into the old host site and said the transfer had begun.
By the next morning, I had a message from the next tech name Teodor who relayed the transfer was complete. He stated that I now needed to point the domain from the old server to theirs and the DNS change could take a few days. Teodor did not mention how I was to make a DNS change, but luckily Google is a wonderful thing. I was able to search and find instructions that were clear enough for me to follow (mostly because they had screenshots and big arrows). I was able to make the update as mandated.
I then wrote this blog, but only one of my images was showing up on the preview. I deleted the pictures and reloaded, and even changed computers, but all photos would not load. I decided to try their chat support out to see what the response was like there. I was connected to Sergei (not really his name, but I don’t have the record of what it actually was and I can only attest to it’s Slavic nature) who asked me for my WordPress login so he could see what some of my settings were. Ten minutes later he had all showing up on the preview. I clicked the checkbox that their support was responsive and helpful on my mental review of the site thus far.
I published and sent it off. Turns out it was viewed twice before the switch must have happened and it disappeared from view. Unknowingly I had written it on the old server and since the switch happened after that, the post did not show to where I had now pointed the site to look at.
Lessons for next time? I don’t know. This was a change that I wasn’t looking forward to. More thought and energy than I had expended in some time concerning this little blog.
And neither do some stories.
So, I’ll hit publish again and see if this one is found and stays put. Otherwise, I’ll be chatting with tech support again.
I have been in deliberation these past few weeks with myself. I started this little blog three years ago. I suddenly had a dream go to to Australia, and the blog was a way to put it out there and keep myself accountable to follow through. It worked and I had a blast both getting ready for that trip and writing a blog every day for that period.
It truly changed how I saw the days. I started to look for the story in the big and small moments of everyday and it changed me for the better. It took me from sometimes feeling that my world was just what I experienced to seeing that life is a handshake where life is experiencing me and I it at the same time. I guess what I am saying is it changed my point of view for the better.
Anyhow, three years ago, it was just about the same price to sign up for 36 months as it was for 6 months and so I took the longer term. That term is now up and the price per month went from a cup of gas station coffee per month (which I don’t drink – not that there is anything wrong with that) to a Starbucks Latte with a scone (which I don’t drink or eat as both are overpriced in my book). The short story is, I can’t see paying the higher fees for a blog that is not used as much as it once was.
And it’s not just about the money, although the price increase would fund a trip to see any of my favorite friends and relatives out of state. It’s also about time and necessity.
I wonder now, how I managed a blog every day for those first few months. Was I totally ignoring my family? Was I more productive? Was it easier because I didn’t think about it, I just did it?
Where did I find the time and how did I not talk myself out of writing alot about nothing?
I still have hundreds of stories in my head to share, but if my heart doesn’t get them written and posted, the head has time to put in negative feedback that I’m stupidly sharing stuff that doesn’t matter anyway. I struggle more with that the more time passes. I honestly didn’t even give it a second thought when I was putting something up consistently. I know this is my issue and need to stop the negative Nelly side of myself that allows that kind of internal talk. But that’s another blog altogether.
So you see, the arguments in my head are not just one sided on any realm.
I’m not saying that I’ll never get back to a steady blog, I’m just too frugal to dish out money for something so seldom used these days. I did renew the domain, just not the hosting. And it’s not that I don’t have the stories in my head, those keep coming as I still look at most days with an anticipation of a story to be told from it. I just can’t seem to manage the time right now to get them out of my head and onto the computer.
So, I’ll post this blog and try to figure out how to move it to a cheaper host and not ditch it altogether as I really do enjoy the sharing and the heartfelt responses.
I know I will, because when searching for a quote to end with, the one below made me verklempt as I know it to be true. I need to put it on my wall as a reminder to write them down and not tear them up.
Lumpectomy surgery is not so bad, I’d recommend the day I had to anyone if you didn’t have to come away with some pain and a scar.
The day of the procedure, I didn’t require anyone to drive me as I would be able to drive myself home since I wasn’t going under the anesthesia. I found myself not nervous but excited at what I might get to see and hear that day.
The first nurse that came to get me was very sweet and because I was not thinking of me at all and noticing all that she was doing along with her comments and procedures, we ended up laughing quite often. As she took my vitals and was briefing me on the first procedure of having a wire placed into the site directly to the spot to be removed, we busted out loudly in guffaw – okay, I might have been the loud one, but she was laughing heartily too. She was telling me how wonderful the mammogram technician was who would be basically running the show for the placement procedure along with the surgeon who was threading the needle. I was of course picking up on every little point that could be laughed at and we were having a good time. Soon there was a knock on the door and in walked the highly touted technician wondering what the heck was going on in our room as she couldn’t even prepare the machine down at the other end of the hallway for fear she was missing out on some fun at our end. She couldn’t even wait for us to join her as she had heard crying many times coming from this room, but never such laughter.
The placement of the wire into the breast requires absolute stillness while being pressed inside the mammogram machine. I had a different nurse, the tech and the surgeon in there. We were so animated in conversation that the surgeon finally called a halt to any chatter at one point for half a minute so that he could complete his duty.
There is about a 15 minute period after they are done that they do their paperwork and get everything ready to send the patient off to pre op. The head tech let the nurse go off and said she would normally also leave to complete the paperwork, but today she was going to stay so that we could chat some more. We talked of family, old TV shows, food, and kids transitioning into adults. It was quite the gamut. She asked what my plans were for the evening after surgery. I relayed that I might see if the hubby wanted to go out to eat since I felt that maybe I would not want to cook. She said I likely wouldn’t want to go out for I might be too groggy. I asked why I would be groggy to which she then recalled seeing in the paperwork that I was not being put under for the main surgery and she busted out laughing. “Oh my gosh, I want to be in surgery with you today. You are going to get into so much trouble in there”, were her words. She obviously was projecting the time we had in our procedure onto the next. The nurse then came to get me and the tech and I gave each other a squeeze in lieu of a hug as she didn’t want to risk moving the wire now sticking out of my breast.
The nurse that took me from the needle wire placement area to the pre-op area, said that she had previously worked in that department and that I would like the staff there and she was sure they would love me. She introduced me to my nurse and asked if she could hug me goodbye (obviously, she did feel the wire was an issue).
My nurse in pre-op was a joker who more resembled a weekend Harley Motorcycle rider than your typical nurse. We found our sense of ease in sparring comments and joking very quickly. As there was little to do to prep me as I did not require an IV or any special accommodations in getting ready for surgery, we mainly chatted while he did some of his ‘busy’ work. Normally, he would do it elsewhere and just check on his patients, but we were having fun, so he did it with me as we also watched a movie that he procured for us. Normally, the small screen and player is just brought out for kids, but I guess he figured that the two of us combined were pretty childish. We were only asked to hold it down and not be so loud maybe twice, so I figured we weren’t too bad.
We were again laughing at some ridiculous comment when Joyce (my surgeon) showed up with her main nurse for the surgery. Joyce wasn’t surprised at the humor in our space as she and i had already shared some laughs, but the young nurse immediately said I should fill out the customer evaluation form right now while I was in such a good mood and spelled her name so as I could get it right. This of course got another laugh and set us up for fun communication in surgery.
They wheeled me into surgery and I met the other two assistants that were to be in the room as well, making us five women to chat. To my disgust, they draped my head and shoulders off and I realized I would not get to see anything. I don’t know exactly how I thought they would do the operation with me looking on, but to not get to see anything was a huge disappointment. Luckily we were all engaged in the chatter, so my focus shifted from the viewing to finding out what made these gals special. I can now tell you where most spent their childhoods, there family status, where they like to vacation and do mission trips and that one of them also has a unique laugh.
When the surgeon was done and I was all stitched up and they were ready to move me on out to recovery, Joyce remarked that she felt like we should all be going to happy hour now instead of recovery for me and another surgery for them. I think they all learned a bit about each other that day.
Except for the one time that it started feeling like she was using a dull melon baller to scoop out the tissue and I had to request a bit more numbing at the site, it was a fun experience. They all thanked me for a fun surgery and I was off to recovery.
Periodically throughout the day, someone would ask if I had anyone there that they needed to update. They seemed always surprised when I said no, but I would go on to explain that I wasn’t worried about me and if someone else had come, I would then be worried about them knowing they would be grumpy just sitting around and waiting. No one could argue that point and besides that, I felt like I was with people who were genuinely caring about me and for me.
The recovery only really consisted of making sure my blood pressure was good and then they let me get dressed and go – with a prescription for pain killers. As I walked out of the recovery area, I had to walk past the pre-op area and my previous nurse was there talking to another patient. He quickly asked for a brief reprieve from helping his patient to come over and say goodbye and he too gave me a big hug.
As I left, I had to smile at what a fun day it was and how almost everyone throughout the day made me feel like they appreciated me being there.
I think it goes to show that good days can come in any form.
Here’s to wishing you all great days ahead.
Oh, the call a few days later also confirmed that there was no cancer and all was clear. When I went back for my followup with the surgeon a week or so later, she relayed that the surgical team was still talking about my surgery with laughter.
And Lastly, go get your mammogram done if you are due and especially if you are overdue.
Last year, one of my most memorable days was an unexpected one.
Earlier in the year on my annual mammogram, they found some suspected calcifications in one of my breasts, of which they were adamant that I get checked out.
This led to a needle biopsy for two locations with results of no cancer, but an MRI was recommended for a follow up to see if they could see anything further as one spot although non-cancerous, was atypical in cellular nature.
The day of the Biopsies, I was the first patient and as I wasn’t too concerned, I was able to enjoy the nurses and technicians and surgeon that performed the extraction. The nurses were so pleased to have a calm and talkative first patient of the day that after they wrapped me up with some ice packs post surgery, they sent me off to work with a hug.
The MRI also was an interesting experience. For those who haven’t had one, the noise of the machine is louder than one might anticipate. I am told they give headphones with music sometimes, but that wasn’t an option for me. Even with the noise, I dozed off as they ran the machine around me. Maybe my mind just associated it with the noise of public transport of which I can almost always doze off on. No great conversations that day, so no hugs either, but again, the results were negative with no red flags – except for the last line that suggested a surgical consult.
I was due for my annual visit to the gynecologist, so I figured he would explain it all. His suggestion was to go have the surgical consult and provided me with a list of surgeons to choose from. One of the names on the list was Joyce Moore. I choose her not after a long in depth search of her qualifications, but merely because of her name. (She has my mother’s first name and my good friend Sally’s last name – yes, I have a friend named Sally)
con·sul·ta·tion
ˌkänsəlˈtāSH(ə)n/
noun
noun: consultation; plural noun: consultations
a meeting with an expert or professional, such as a medical doctor, in order to seek advice.
synonyms:
meeting, talk, discussion, interview, audience, hearing; More
I am here to tell you that an surgical consult is not a meeting as much as it is the day you meet the surgeon to schedule surgery. She was a woman of my age with a good sense of humor, had an open heart and was quite insistent that for everyone’s peace of mind, it was best to have a lumpectomy to take out the atypical cells and a bit of the surrounding tissue just to make sure that everything was clear. In some tangent of our conversation, I learned that he husband’s second toe is longer that his big toe – same as me. I don’t recall how our conversation got to that as I never took my shoes off, but I let her know that it was a sign of royalty. At least that is what I was always told by my Grandmother who also had the same toes. I have found it really interesting of late to notice what information people will share when not thinking. I still get the giggles a little when I think of her going home for dinner and telling her husband that he has royal toes and him wondering just how in the world his toes come up in a conversation in her practice of women’s breast issues.
She picked a date in early November for the procedure and asked if I wanted to be put under anesthesia or go with a local. I was surprised to hear I had an option and said I would prefer to have the local so that I could see and hear what goes on.
After all, I was the little girl who wanted to be front and center if there was surgery to be performed on any of the animals at the farm or be present at when we butchered a cow or sheep. It always has fascinated me the complexities of what is hidden beneath the exterior of our outer coverings.
What is under all that wool, I wondered.
I’ll tell you about the day of the surgery tomorrow as it is the really unexpected great day.
I put in the ticket to transfer the site and almost immediately, a seemingly young tech named Nikolay was already working on it and messaged that the user name and login to the previous site wasn’t working for him. I provided a different link for the login and again was told it did not work. It would seem that Nikolay could not work with incomplete information provided by me. What kind of tech support was this that couldn’t figure out what I meant instead of what I actually typed? I decided not to hold it against them.
Nikolay was finally able to log into the old host site and said the transfer had begun.
And neither do some stories.
