Huntington

I am taking a computer science class where I am learning the programming language C++. The hardest part of the class is finding time to do the work. Because I am familiar with HTML and CSS, and had started to learn JavaScript, the concepts of programming make a lot of sense to me. Despite having difficulty keeping up with the assignments, I am in a position to help some of the other students. The student that I have been helping the most is unsurprisingly the one that I sit next to. This student (lets call him Jim) is eighteen years old and is going into computer science as a major. We first got talking when he was having trouble loading the text editor / compiler on his laptop because it was running windows 8 (which is still in prerelease preview). Since then we have talked a little more each class session.

This last class session we spoke about some more personal matters. We got to talking about our shared love of coffee (Jim works at a Starbucks) and I told him about how it helps me focus and keeps my eyes lubricated (I have shitty tear ducts). I also mentioned that I don’t like the addiction part of it. Jim told me that isn’t the worst part for him as he smokes. We got into a discussion about smoking and how one gets started in such an anti-smoking culture as Southern California. All this was regular small talk until he told me why he isn’t afraid of the consequences of smoking. Jim’s family has a history of Huntington’s Disease.

What more do you say after something like that. None of us know when we will die but Jim has a better guess than most. He alluded to having watched his family members go through the wasting effects of the disease and told me that he has thus far avoided learning too much about it. He is trying to focus on living his life and not think too hard about the game of genetic roulette that he is subject to. After a rough pause and some sad words we forged on to easier topics, but I have not been able to shake the thought.

This really made me grateful for my health. I know that I would react in a different way than Jim has and try to learn all I could about the disease. I would get my DNA sequenced and find out for sure if I had the gene. What terror it is to know that you have a 50% chance of an incurable degenerative disease when you reach somewhere around 35 to 40 years of age.

What an unfair world we live in.

Redeployment

My brother’s Deployment ceremony was this past weekend. The last two times he was sent off to war he was stationed in Washington so I wasn’t able to go to the ceremony if there even was one. This time I went. I had to leave early because of a test in the Cisco class that I was taking but I was there for an hour. The ceremony was essentially a block of solders sitting while some officers talked about how proud they were of them and of the unit in general. Then they sang the army song and fell out.

It was an emotional ceremony for me because it called to mind how it was during his second deployment to Iraq, when I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him again. My brother is very important to me. He has been my guide and friend and has helped me find my way more times than I can count. Anyone who knows the two of us can see how similar and how in sync we are.

This time I am less afraid for his life. I know that he will be working at a higher echelon than the last time and that he will not be on patrols. What I am afraid of is that he will be hurt, not hurt physically but mentally. I know that war has changed him. Seeing and doing the things that a soldier does and being in a place where there are people lurking with hatred in their hearts waiting for the chance to kill whomever they can has altered the landscape of his life. He can no longer enjoy fireworks on Independence Day, and he gets angry and frustrated quicker than he used to.

I am afraid that he will come back even more changed. That the scars that are already there under the surface will be added to. I am afraid that he is paying into this war with his mental health and his best physical years. I am afraid that he will come back and give in to the thought of being a career soldier and spend the rest of his life in the armed services, where things are structured and predictable.

Seeing this ceremony made me a little emotional. I am afraid that I could lose him, angry that he has to go, sad for everyone who's family has to be kept apart for this mad war. I hate seeing him go willingly to where he will be hurt again. He goes for honor and duty and because he promised he would and I would never ask him to forsake all that, so I stand by and watch it all happen again. It is hard to keep from going into a rant at this point. I want to ramble on about political will and cultural incompatibility but that isn’t the point. The point is that I don’t want to lose my brother.

Most of this is my Homebrewed Mead

Other Blogs

Blogging is an interesting thing. I have been posting in this blog for years but it is mainly for my close friends and family. I have decided to branch out with mixed results. I have trouble posting with the regularity that I intend but here are the addresses of my other projects:

My Novia and I write about roleplaying games here:

http://rpglifelessons.blogspot.com/

My Novia, our friend Scooter and I write about the plays we see here:

http://notintheatre.blogspot.com/

I have started a new blog dedicated to my craft work and as an eventual companion to an etsy store here:

http://makermead.com

Passing Througn

It is difficult some times for me to get comfortable with my job. I am the designated tech for setting up systems for new users and picking up the systems from users who are “no longer with the company.” It is an easy task but one that is not without a little bit of angst. I am painfully aware of what the turnover rate is at the company and of how some people don’t make it past a month, let alone six. I am also aware that I am the most junior member of the team and therefore the most expendable. I watch people come and go. Sometimes they are here for a couple of weeks and other times I hear about a coworker being honored for being with the company for 20 years. I cannot shake the feeling that I am not going to last that long. I may be here for years but not many.  I don’t exactly fear for my job (any more at least) but I am constantly aware that it will eventually come to an end.

I don’t fit the IT bill. The mindset of a tech is one of maintaining control and keeping the network safe and stable. While I understand and respect the need for that attitude, I am inclined to focus on innovation and solving problems. Whenever I apply out-of-the-box thinking, the response is “NO, that isn’t in the box. We don’t support that” That attitude is stifling to me. I know that I won’t make this job my career.

This brings me to the thought of what I want to do professionally. I have several irons in the fire as they say, but I am starting to wonder if I am dividing my attention too much. I am pursuing my IT career by working on earning a CCNA. I am beginning down the path to learn how to program by taking an introduction to CS class where I am learning the programing language C++. I am also about to try out selling my ceramic work on Etsy (this kind of half-in production pottery work would never have been possible before Etsy). Each of these pursuits has its own problem. The CCNA class will be useless if I leave the IT field. The programming may be out of reach if I cannot go back and get a BS in Computer Science. The pottery may be some pipe dream that is unsustainable in the real world. I have so much doubt but these are the best plans that I can come up with so I will go with them. 

Struck Down

My ex-girlfriend is sick. Last week she had a cerebral aneurism and was taken to the hospital. She is lucky in a lot of ways. Her boyfriend was there to take care of her and she had just gotten back from camping far from any hospital help. I haven’t seen her or her boyfriend but mutual friends have filled me in on some of the details. After the aneurism she was taken to the hospital and underwent surgery. They still have her in the ICU she is very sensitive to sound and has headaches. She is resting as best she can but is getting sick of being in the hospital. She reappeared on facebook yesterday which I take as a good sign but she mentioned that she won’t be posting much due to some double vision.

I knew that she had high blood pressure but she is too young to have an aneurism. She is 29 years old and in a hospital bed in the ICU. The doctors seem to think she will make a full recovery, and that is comforting but she could have just as easily died.

I am not sure what role I play in this. We were together for 7 and a half years but that was almost three years ago. I now only see her at the occasional party thrown by one of our few mutual friends. We are not interested in the same things and do not go the same places. Friday night when the news came down, I was notified by two different people and on Saturday I was updated by three different people. I am astonished at where I am in the flow of information. I am going to try and visit her in the hospital but I don’t really know what to say. She is bored but still resting and recovering. What do we talk about? Do I chat with her new boyfriend about what I know about her family medical history? Do I bring her favorite candy? There is so much history that I have been setting aside for years, and now I do not know what to do with it.

The most frustrating thing about ceramics class is when other students break your work