Tag: Culture

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Culture Politics

Day 1658 and Social Contracts

I sometimes feel as if I’m living in an entirely different rule set than everyone else around me. The social contract is in flux and it’s a challenge to understand why you take norms seriously when everyone around you is breaking them. From big to small it offenses it can drive a person mad.

A large abstract state is great and all until you can’t figure out if anarcho-tyranny is the governing system or if we are reverting to the state of nature.

If you fly economy class chaos reigns in lord of the flies level manners breaking and that’s a kind of miracle of modernity. Our technology works better than we do. So what is a state of nature kind of woman to do about this mismatch?

Thomas Hobbes provided the first comprehensive exposition of modern social contract theory in 1651. Hobbes famously described the “state of nature” as a condition where human life would be “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short”

social contract theory Wikipedia

You may be familiar with his term the “war of all against all” which we’ve all theoretically given up in order to leave the state of nature and create civilization. Unless you are a fan of nihilist Bronze Age Pervert, you probably aren’t itching to get back to freedoms like murder and tape. But some men want to see the world burn.

But most of the enlightenment folks are keen on the social contract. I am keen on it. Freedom to fuck everyone over isn’t ideal no matter how based you think you are. Airplanes are cool even if we can’t agree on hygiene.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau had the concept of the “general will” which is our common good though he did think some people needed to be forced to be free. So maybe he would be ok with certain authoritarian strains of achieving liberalism? In which case he’d really have enjoyed the woke era.

I’m more of a Locke type myself. He wrote that men would only relinquish personal freedoms if it were in service of maintaining fundamental rights like life, liberty, and property. So I’ll tolerate bit bathing in economy class so long as you let me live my life.

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Biohacking Medical Travel

Day 1656 and Recovery from Recovery

I’m waiting on pathology lab work but I’m mostly supposed to be resting and healing after surgery on Friday. I feel like crap and I’m scared.

I have no real basis for making judgements on how well I am healing as you can’t just upload imagines of your genitalia adjacent wounds to Claude or Perplexirty. Even Grok is like “no”when you trip the icky lady bits warning sensor coding.

Thankfully it being a Monday I was able to get a short appointment at the hospital with the improbably beautiful and well dressed obstetrician who did my surgery. She seems to think I’m fine and healing normally.

I trust a woman who dresses well. But the antibiotics are just making a hash of my mind, my intestines and my stomach.

Bloodletting? Lost in translation

I’m enjoying the headstart of waking up 9 hours ahead of home and 7 hours ahead of the New York market opening. Now if only I felt smart enough to actually work.

The Cipro is just the absolute worst. I feel guilty complaining as I have such excellent care and a comfortable hotel room in which to recover. But I’m struggling. All the back work and emails will just have to wait I suppose.

I feel like a recovering from my recovery might soon be necessary as my mind-body-gut axis is toppling ass over tits as the nuclear winter of 3 separate antibiotics lays waste to once fertile lands for friendly gut biomes. And this is before I’ve even considered whether I have the right drugs. Pathology reports might suggest fungals.

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Chronic Disease Medical Travel

Day 1654 and Post-Operative Exhaustion

As I slowly walked myself out of surgery yesterday, I thought to myself “I actually feel much better!” And I genuinely did.

If you have a gentle stomach, maybe stop reading here. I’m fine. I’m on my way to well. And this will be graphic.

I do feel dramatically better having had the “slouching towards septic” abscess drained of infection as well as removal of the initial pearl style irritant (a 3mm deep entirely horizontal hair growing not up but sideways like an underground fracking tube).

I appreciated having the walls of the abscess pulled out bit by bit in a delicate curettage by my silk sundress clad physician. It was all a success.

But post operative care is hard? I’m a mess. I’m exhausted, loopy, and the hotel’s guest services are concerned enough that they are doing me such kindnesses like sending up tea and maxipads. Turkish hospitality comes from a place of genuine kindness and I need that right now.

It’s been a long journey of stupid to end up in Istanbul to get a smart fix. Going from a squishy movable almond sized lump without any pain six weeks ago to a hard plum sized lump was disconcerting enough. Especially having done my damned preventive care visits with the useless Dr Oetkin in Montana.

Have had two days of prodding, poking, squeezing, moving and ultrasounding done in the Mediterranean, I was swollen, feverish, and all hurt to the touch. I was afraid.

How did I get here? How had my next generation IL-17 managed to cause me so many negative side effects even as I was doing better across all biometrics and across quality of life metrics?

No wonder the doctor in Istanbul was so concerned. All the previous doctors had done was make my situation worse though inaction and delay m, and then the action they took made it worse.

Now I have recovery ahead of me. Last night as I went to pee, I realized why they had padded the upper areas of my underwear with maxi pads. I’ve got no discharge downstairs but on the upper bikini area there was no such luck.

I only needed one stitch to close up thanks to the careful work of the doctor, but a lot of goo came out during the surgery drainage and I was warned there was still more to come, though it would taper off.

I gently washed the area with a cloth and antiseptic soap before application of antibiotic cream (my third type of antibiotic). I gasped as I saw the first lightly red sticky watery fluid gush out rapidly around the stitch. It was so fast and there was so damn much. Bodies are disgusting what else can be said?

I mopped up with a clean moist towel and applied a thick layer of antibiotic cream, but I had learned the deflation of the abscess wasn’t quite done. The swelling, I was told, would take a week or more to full abate.

I’ll be sleeping this off for the day but if you are in Montana with an autoimmune disease and need a dermatologist I’d recommend you stay away from Dr. Tara Oetken at SkincareMT. Without her hasty heuristics and lack of conviction I wouldn’t be in this mess.

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Biohacking Media Travel

Day 1652 and Back in Istanbul

I’m a mess and somewhat scared. This abcess saga has grown from dismissive preventative care visit (which I did did out of an abundance precaution) and ended with me meeting a general surgeon at a Turkish medical tourism hospital tomorrow to discuss labs and my ultrasound. It’s my second time this year so that’s quite an endorsement as a revealed preference.

But I am serious with this sidebar. Don’t go to SkincareMT’s dermatology practice if you have a layered case that needs more involvement. I found Dr Oetken pleasant but entirely unaccountable when a patient needed advice and weightings on a complex case. I should have known better.

I was afraid she would be a box checking paper pusher afraid to give an opinion. But maybe younger doctors are afraid to treat that way given our system. I needed to know is it worth getting a clearer diagnosis before it is a crisis? Is imaging necessary? I have a set of drugs I take with these specific side effects. Given that risk profile and nuance at hand needed the interpersonal relationship that would guide me.

I do endorse SkincareMT’s cosmetic practice, and Addison in particular is fantastic, but their healthcare wing is clearly designed to extract maximum Medicare dollars from Montana seniors. 

My failure to get an ounce of prevention means I’m flown to Istanbul to attempt to get a pound of cure. Don’t worry I was already in the Mediterranean. Not in the way way some think though.

Yesterday we found out by pulling teeth that I had a problem. It’s clear I need this excised and quickly. The ultrasound is gnarly. Drainage, removal of the foreign object, and potential curratage to make sure the walls of the cyst are removed forever are what is needed. 

The sprawling medical tourism complex in Istanbul is amazing and I trust them more than any other system or talent pool on the planet right now.  What they have built is an incredible achievement and in challenging conditions.

Doctors who listen, who educate you on your options, and most importantly are up to date on current research and global innovations so don’t give you glassy eyed stares when you mention a new medication like a next generation IL-17 inhibitor it’s exotic side effects.  American doctors like that are rare and their hands are often tied by our horrific mess of state failure and lack of market innovation. 

I’m relieved to have choices like “general surgeon or gynecological surgeon” and texting discussions with my case lead (a full time liaison for you and your family on the entire case) on how we will handle excision and culture pathology. 

It does feel like I’ll have good choices. But it also seems like I booked less time than is necessary and I don’t know how I feel about that. A week of waiting on labs in a hotel while in pain is scary. Sure I can work and be productive and maybe even do some tourism but I just want this shit sliced out, an IV of the right antibiotic that will work and some sleep. 

I’ve been doing some crazy bi-phasic sleeping as the Mediterranean is hot as hell from noon to 10pm. So I’ve been doing a bit of staying up late and sleeping in to avoid the heat. It’s not clear how much it’s messing with me yet because I’ve got all these odd infection fever doctor nonsense. A quick surgery and some answers can’t come fast. Thankfully I’m at the crossroads of empires.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease Medical

Day 1649 and Physician Heal Thyself

I’ve been having some side effects from my new biologic injection Bimzelx. Whenever I travel, I do a spate of doctors appointments before I leave so I can be adequately prepared for likely scenarios. Be prepared is my motto.

I had gone to a dermatologist a month ago to check on a cyst or swollen lymph node in an awkward spot. It’s on my pubic bikini area so I’ve been playing hot potato with dermatologists versus gynecologists.

The dermatologist appointment was so horrifying I’d recommend you stay away from Dr. Tara Oetken at SkincareMT as it was such a degrading and frankly useless experience. I do fully endorse their cosmetic practice and Nurse Addison.

I ended up at the dermatologist as the gynos were like “uhhh it’s on the outside and involves no reproductive organs so you need a dermatologist” and then dermatologist was a bit “its close to your vagina ewwww icky scary did you go to the gyno?”

Yes dear that’s how I got sent to you, this ain’t no picnic for me either.

I was embarrassed but the cyst/enflamed lymph node had been unchanging for a few months (not growing or differing in texture but malleable & squishy). So I checked in, was mostly embarrassed, got no direction that helped and left feeling degraded.

Given my previous issues with meiborn gland infections on my eyelids, I’d been instructed to keep a close eye any side effects common like folliculitis that is common Bimzelx. This was clearly a complex side effect that I’d had multiple issues with all year. The next step was imaging but I could get zero sense in the very short visit of whether or not the doctor felt it was warranted. “It’s up to you” sounds nice until you want a doctor to give you their professional advice.

Well now I’m in a foreign country and the almond sized squishy bit has ballooned in just four or five short days to thrice or quadruple its size, it’s now quite firm and not easy to move around or squish and I’ve got to do the same dance all over with doctors ago don’t speak English.

Thankfully I have artificial intelligence and an interpreter. I’ll get the imaging ultrasound done (AI says get it done immediately based on the differential it did) and then we can see if it’s a cyst or a lymph node that needs an I&D. I started antibiotics 3 days into this ballooning and it has done little to fix it so let’s find out. Hopefully I don’t need someone lancing and squeezing out stuff in a foreign country. But if I do need that I may pop a flight to Istanbul for that.

Categories
Culture Politics

Day 1648 and Dystopian Doomers

I’m fairly well branded as a doomer, so I hate to break ranks with my preparedness brethren, but I’m absolutely sick of the powerful using fear as a tool to control people.

It isn’t a new problem. This is the go-to tactic our species has used insofar as we can verify with written history.

Any time we experience a change of circumstance, material reality or technology, we hear the braying of the old guard and the panic of the precarious.

People complain for two basic reasons. If you are doing well why change a system that benefits you? If you aren’t successful but equally aren’t comfortable with change, then you resent anyone who benefit from change. Fear and resentment are the shadows of the human soul. Envy is the sin of our time.

I personally feel I’ve invested a lot in doing my part to educate people on risks from climate to currency and compute.

I am politically involved in crypto policy as well as fighting fear in artificial intelligence. I helped pass the only piece of AI legislation in the world focused on liberty. I want people to have a choice for how they engage in a virtual future.

I’m not just a nerd about being prepared either. I’ve done my wilderness first responder certification. We left Colorado for Montana for a host of reasons but top of them was a better and freer climate both literally and figuratively. We live this way because it’s a great way to live and when change happens we are hoping to be resilient.

Having all that in mind I was offline for the 4th of July long weekend as it has been a busy year on all of those fronts. So I was sleeping it off. To come back and see a spate of conspiracies over cloud seeding technology was like a punch to the gut. And I’m already feeling like I’m on the outs with some community when it comes to technology and my intentions.

I’ve only met Augustus Doricko of Rainmaker a handful of times but his circle of young technical Christians dedicated to building solutions to our modern problems are why I remain optimistic in fighting for technology and the people who build it.

These kinds of communities of builders exist in an archipelago of anarchic communities across digital and physical worlds that interlay across many systemic problems. These places will succeed no matter the future we face because they understand it’s necessary to build. That is will.

I’ve been lucky to have been the first investor in Isaiah Taylor’s Valar Atomics. He is a part of this builder world and of a part of a clan of physical builders. He faces decades of fear with a cheerful heart. I believe in his vision for energy abundance.

Nuclear energy was buckled under an old environmentalisms that was a proxy for a fear of a future whose risks, however minimal, were too scary to embrace for those in charge and the public they controlled.

I believe in a vision of a better America (and a better ecosystem and a better economy) because we embrace change to build materially better conditions.

I have frankly seen too much pessimism from older generations and cynical power brokers to be silent. The complicit rancor is slowing us down and there is nothing Christian at all about standing in the way of delivering better conditions to our fellow man.

Paradise is lost. In a fallen world we work to do what we can. It isn’t the end of the world. It’s already lost. Now we work because we must. We aren’t building an eschatology to replace the Lord. We build because that is what we are called to do by him.

Categories
Biohacking

Day 1646 and A Little Spa Day

After seeing my sadly “in the red” recovery scores from my Whoop, I felt a bit of a cortisol mitigation effort was in effect. In other words, I took a little spa day.

When I was younger and living in Chinatown , my apartment was above an acupuncture and massage joint that specialized in pressure point work. Going once a week probably saved my life. It was affordable and close and good.

It was always packed with the working class of the area. The prison complex wasn’t too far away, we had a police precinct two blocks down, and the courts buildings system was a block away and enormous warren of humans. A lot of very intense people in tough, sometimes very physical situations needed to have it worked out of their. Kids.

By comparison, my body was easy work for a man who worked on hurt cops and stressed out prosecutors. White girl problems are easy.

So I’ve done a run of sauna and cold work. I’ve had a massage. I have stretched and done breath work and moved around to feel things reset their flow.

I should really remember that heat, cold, oxygen, movement and pressure really do solve most problems. Don’t forget to eat and drink.

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Emotional Work

Day 1642 and Really In It

I really spent some time in my feelings today which isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my day. Though I couldn’t exactly tell you why I don’t expect to feel my way through the day. All real works requires you to balance the intuition of working from one’s gut.

The world is tense and our place in it doesn’t feel assured. Every time we experience a norm change or unsettles the balance of our social order.

It sounds so dramatic but we balance trust with the boundaries necessary to make choices that work for each of our own consciences. Some things are more the basic math of a situation. We need are feeling precarious.

As I do this writing exercise tonight there is a raging Rocky Mountain thunderstorm. They come on with such fury it can take your breath away. These storms are intense and rapid and blow in and out with inn half an hour. The atmosphere after has an uneasy calm. Rage is nature’s game not man’s.

They do drive you inside which is good as I have packing to do. I am venturing off and I’ll be feeling my way through that too. I’ll blow out myself soon and let the world show me where to go.

Categories
Community Culture

Day 1641 and Honor

The good vibes of my weekend have washed out on the tides as I consider a frustrating non-interaction that has grown into anger in my heart as rapidly as a wheatgrass seed grows in an Easter basket.

I am considering the question of honor in the context of closed communities and events. If you go looking, the cat is out of the bag on where I was and with whom, but I don’t yet have personal permission to use a name, so I’ll keep this brief.

I’m in my Worf era

I’ve been called many names in my time and plenty of them have not been laudatory. Dirty shiksa, stupid cunt, and mostly recently, demonic. Everyone being entitled to their opinion, I don’t generally ask for apologies. I do ask that you say it to my face though.

I am a shiksa, certainly “see you next Tuesday” from time to time, but I remain skeptical that I am possessed by anything from Hades or other Lovecraftian horror from the beyond.

But so long as you use my name in the process of insulting my honor, I only request you look me in the eyes while you do it. I can take it. I stand by who I am and what I say.

So I can’t shake the feeling that I was deliberately dishonored by the speaker. And I am actually angry now. I am used to the insult throwing and name calling of Internet living, indeed I thrive in it. I am not accustomed to aspersions by celebrities as I don’t matter all that much. And I certainly didn’t expect it in a small private group.

I fight in that arena under my own banner. I take those punches under my own name. I won’t lie, someone of stature being so upset as to call me evil without felt good at first (how nice to be noticed) and slowly curdled into a fury over the disrespect.

Maybe it’s because I was one of the few women speaking. It was only after much effort he agreed to speak with my male co-speaker and not me (I’d already left). Maybe it was because after multiple attempts at engagement I was refused time and again. Maybe it’s because his gaze remained staunchly averted. Whatever triggered it has now turned to fiery anger.

I think it’s a bitch move to drop bombs and then runaway like a kicked cur when the beast stirs. And I am quite wide awake now.

I’m the alien in this scenario
Categories
Community Travel

Day 1640 and Ebullient

Having spent a whirlwind 72 hours at a campout with weirdos I am in a very good mood. Minus getting called demonic by a coward who wouldn’t face me, the entire trip including the long drives was amazing.

It’s always a pleasure to spend offline time with real people. Especially when they disagree with you. Which happened a lot as it was a fractious group of eccentrics from all walks of life.

Technologists, theologians, farmers, military men, musicians, mothers, writers and even a journalist or two. We were missing a trucker friend and a former hobo (his wife is due to deliver a baby any minute now) but it was full in spirit.

We drove home through golden time with a sunset so brilliant it made me wish I could capture even a fraction of its beauty with paintbrush or camera. Alas it will remain a memory that is impossible to share.

Stopping for gas and getting Maxfield Parrish