Problem Solvers

If there's one thing upon which I truly and completely pride myself, it's my ability to solve problems.  If I can't get something to work one way, I'll look to see if there is another way to get around it.  If I get stuck on an issue, I'll put it away and come back later to take a fresh look at it, hoping that there was something that I may have missed the first time.  This has worked very well for me.

But let me tell you what I despise: people who try to solve other peoples' problems.  Especially when the one with the problem *isn't asking for anyone's help*.  Thank you for "caring", but I can do this without you.  Why?  Because your suggestions suck.

Example:

Friend: "Matt, you just need to have positive thoughts."
Me: "You think I HAVEN'T thought of that already?!  Thank you for stating the obvious."

Reason for outburst: it's something I like to call "Clinical Depression".  You may have heard of it before.  But for those who don't understand what that entails, let me show you.

There are certain chemicals in the brain that help it to function "normally", if you will.  As you see here, with my type of depression, the serotonin levels are off.  So when I go any length of time without something to help get the serotonin back where it's supposed to be, I get increasingly depressed and irritable.  Edgy, as I like to say.  It also makes it extremely difficult to just "think positive thoughts".

And for those of you ignorant people who just say "it's a choice to have positive thoughts", you have no idea what you're saying and you have no right to say that.  Especially to someone like me.  Trying to tell me that only makes it worse.

I've had people tell me that being around me when I'm like that is like "walking on eggshells".  Two things.  1) Why would you ever walk on eggshells? and 2) it's your own d*** fault.  So don't try to blame it on me.

So, counsel from the wise to the uneducated, keep your "advice" to yourself.  I'm doing just fine figuring out my own problems and don't require your input unless I specifically ask for it.  You don't see me telling you how to run YOUR life.  So let me take care of my own life, just like you want to be in charge of yours.

Technology + Age = Disaster

I love old people.  No really, I do.  When I think of old people, I think of people like my grandmother.  She turns 90 in October and is one of the sweetest and most thoughtful people ever to exist on the planet we like to call "Earth".  I'm also very surprised that she is so mobile at her age!  We were just down in New Orleans a couple weeks ago and there were days where I had no idea where she was because she'd gone off to look at some stuff around town!  I hope I'll be like that when I'm 90.  Except not as a woman . . .

But as much as I love old people, there are quite a few that are just crabby.  You know what I mean: something doesn't work right or they don't understand something, so since you're the closest intelligent life form, all of that rage is directed right at your face.


Example: lady comes to the library trying to make some photocopies from a book.  Since the copying machine won't do what *she* wants it to do, it's automatically MY fault.  Now you may say that it's because I was the only staff on the clock at the time, but that's beside the point.

This is how I see old people, represented by a mathematical equation:

+

=

If it were up to me, I would find a way to get old people to avoid using any kind of technology at all costs.  The only problems are 1) it's not up to me, 2) I don't have any ideas for what to do, and 3) there are A LOT of old people.  But it sure would make things a lot less stressful on the technology-savvy if old people were banned from using things like computers.

Kudos to my grandma for sticking with the United States Postal Service and refusing to try using email.  I wish more old people were like you, Meema.

TSA: Too Stinkin' Anal

I recently returned from a trip home to Georgia and was intrigued by the differences in the TSA agents in the two airports from which I flew: Salt Lake City and Atlanta.

I had surgery on my wrist a couple days before I left Utah to head to Georgia, and I was trying to adjust to wearing a soft cast on my right arm.

It looked like this:

I expected to have to do some kind of extra security check at some point before they would let me on a plane, so I planned for a little extra time with our beloved TSA people.  After I went through the metal detector, the TSA agent told me to go see another guy to get my cast swabbed (I guess to make sure I didn't have any weapons on the OUTSIDE of my cast...).  It took about a minute and I was soon on my way to my gate.

And yes, for an entire two weeks (insert sad face here), I was in a hot and humid environment and was unable to wash my right arm.  Feel free to shed tears of sympathy now.

Here comes the good part.

My flight from Atlanta to Salt Lake was scheduled to leave at 6:15 AM on Sunday.  I figured that airport traffic would be light, considering the day and time.  Well, the only check-in that had a line was Frontier.  The one that I just happened to be flying that day.  There was a lady who was tapping her foot because she was worried about missing the flight (I walked into the airport at 5:15).  So was I.

And let me just say this: the people who check you in at the airport are slow and useless.  Much like the offense for the Atlanta Braves.  I didn't move in that line for almost 20 minutes while two people were checking in passengers more slowly than the plot development of Master and Commander.  But I digress.

By the time I finally got past check-in, I was booking it to get through security.  But there was a problem.  I still had this cast on my arm.  So Atlanta, being as huge and ridiculous as it is, decides that it needs to be SUPER thorough in checking to make sure that I don't have anything suspiciously hidden inside my cast.  After going through the body-scan, the TSA guy took me aside (away from my stuff) TO TAKE PICTURES from every possible angle of my arm using this outdated machine.  Was it necessary?  No.  I mean, I can understand that you want to make absolutely sure that nothing gets by unnoticed, but SERIOUSLY?  I had about 20 minutes to get to my gate before the flight left.  And I still had to get on the train to go 4 concourses down to my gate.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that we've woken up and have a heightened sense of security in our airports.  But could you please cut down on the unnecessary procedures and MOVE FASTER??!!  It would help a lot of people be less stressed about flying.  Most importantly: ME!

Harry Potter

So the 2nd part of the last Harry Potter movie is coming out tonight and a ton of people are excited about it.  In fact, I have already seen at least a dozen Facebook statuses telling how stoked people are to wait in line, dressed up in their Harry Potter-best, dying to get in to see the movie.  It all sounds so RIVETING!

But here's the problem: it's a movie.  Here's another problem: anyone waiting in line for this movie has most likely already read the book series.  So . . . what's the big deal?  You already know what's going to happen.  You already know that Harry dies, comes back to life (somehow) and then everyone lives happily ever after without "you-know-who".  (Side note: I still think it's stupid how everyone is so scared to say Voldemort.  It's just a name . . .)  So why are we all in such a hurry to stay up until 3 AM and watch what we already know is going to happen?  And then, after it's over, everyone will complain about something that the filmmakers left out, or something that wasn't exactly how it is in the book.  And after that, everyone will go see it again anyway.  And still say that it's the greatest movie ever made.  It's a fact of life.  For some odd reason.

And before you call me an ignorant hater, let me just point out that I have read the first book (and have no desire to read the rest no matter how good you tell me they are) and have seen the first 5 movies.  So I know that I don't like it.  Harry and Ron remind me of Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street.  They are always together, they're best friends, one is tall and the other is not-as-tall, and no one really knows whether or not they are actually gay.  That's just one thing that I can't stand about it.

Then there is the teenage angst.  It's everywhere.  It's like a bad episode of The Young and the Restless.  A bit redundant, but still true.  Ron has a secret crush on Hermione (and Harry), who secretly likes Harry, but Harry likes the Asian girl (who had to hear about her sparkling boyfriend dying), who just wants Harry because he's Harry.  And then apparently Dumbledore IS gay, Snape is on crack and Malfoy is and always will be Harry's nemesis because he has an inferiority complex.  Ta daaaa.

Maybe some of you go for the social experience.  But I have to ask you, are these people worth being social with?  Something is telling me that it's not.  Just a hunch.  It's like if a group of dudes went together to see the Justin Bieber movie . . .

*beep beep beep* Oh, excuse me.  That was my gaydar going off.

Anyway.  But what could POSSIBLY be better than Harry Potter, you ask?  Let me think: Pirates of the Caribbean, Star Wars, Tron, Kelly's Heroes, Dodgeball, Star Trek, Sherlock Holmes, the Bourne series, Inception, Batman Begins/the Dark Knight, Angels in the Outfield, The A-team, Iron Man, Princess and the Frog, Indiana Jones . . .


. . . . . . . . and there's this series of movies called The Lord of the Rings.  I don't know if you've ever heard of that.

I could entertain myself for hours watching Youtube videos and other movies on Netflix.  So I'll save my $10 and spend it on something worthwhile.  You can enjoy the letdown of sitting in the back row of a midnight showing of a silly children's book series.

Vlad

Let me introduce you to my friend Vlad.

I made Vlad while standing at the Periodicals desk in the library.  On Thursday afternoons, it usually gets pretty quiet down there, so I just wait for people to come see me if they have a question.  After I drew this character, I just knew that I had to call him "Vlad".  That's just what he looked like to me.  And in order to keep the alliteration rolling, I came up with several descriptive words for him, all starting with the letter "V".  His name reads: "Vlad, the vicious, V-neck-wearing, veracious, verbile venator".  So, without further ado, allow me to present Vlad:

<----- (Vlad)






Now, most of you might think that Vlad is not a very good-looking person.  However, he is good at dodgeball (7-time All-Star of Eastern Europe), likes to ice fish with his bare hands, and is #3 in the world hair-growing rankings.  Anyone who knew his personality would be crazy about him!

That would be anyone EXCEPT for the department assistant, Kim.  Notwithstanding Vlad's outstanding credentials, she did not take kindly to finding out that she was betrothed to him.  It was up to my coworker, Andrea, to remove Vlad from his prominent position on the Periodicals desk.  When I showed up to work the next day, I was disappointed to not see Vlad.

So, with the passing of my dear friend, I would like to leave him with this profound homage:

"Dear Vlad.  I like you.  I might be the only one.  I think you're nice."

Everyone, a moment of silence for Vlad.

..............

That's enough.

Independence Day

When I was living in France as a missionary, I came to realize that there were many things that I took for granted.  One such thing was my family.  You know how it is.  You always get into fights with your siblings, your parents are over-protective, everything that they do is annoying.  But in the end, it's your family.  They are always there and are always willing to help.  While that was obvious to me (the fact that I took my family for granted and *gasp* actually MISSED them!), something else was lacking that I wouldn't have thought of right away.  That would be simply this: living in the United States of America.

With Independence Day weekend just barely past, I took the time to reflect on what makes this country great.  I made a mental list of several things.

1) Baseball (obviously)
2) Driving on the right (directional) side of the road
3) the American flag
4) Checks and balances in the government
5) the South (can I get an "AMEN" from the congregation??!!)
6) the fact that everyone claims to hate the U.S., but they all actually want to BE the U.S.
7) Being free

Some of these are more humorous than others (notice that baseball is #1 on the list.  This is not a joke.  It is God's gift to man), but I saved "being free" for last because it is perhaps the most important, and quite possibly what we take for granted the most.  Think back to those tedious US History classes from high school and those endless dates to memorize.  Why were those so important?  Why were these such memorable days/years in our history?  The events of the past have strongly influenced where we are and where we are going.

During my time as a missionary, I served as the pianist for several congregations of the Church (and you should know that I am a pretty lousy pianist!).  One day, as I was sitting down attempting to practice, I flipped open the hymnal to #340 (in the English LDS Hymnal), "The Star-Spangled Banner".  The last verse hit home the most of the three verses.  It goes as follows:

Oh, thus be it ever, when free men shall stand
between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
and this be our motto "In God is our trust!"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!


We forget how miraculous the creation of this country was.  It was basically a bunch of punks (American colonies) who were tired of being beaten down by "the Man" (Britain).  These poor people stood up for what they believed in.  On July 4, 1776, the United States of America declared its independence from Great Britain.  What these men did was in blatant defiance of the King of England, and was considered treason.  But these brave men had faith that their God would be at their side.  Should we not do the same?  Should we not also stand "between our loved homes and the war's desolation", even when we could lose everything?

And this be our motto: "In God is our trust!"

May we always remember the freedoms that we have and enjoy from day to day.  We must ALWAYS put our trust in God.  As long as we do this, we will always have the right to say, "God bless America, my home sweet home!"

BYU Doctors: "Best of the Best"

I'm going to put this as mildly as I can: I hate going to see the doctor.  The only reason that I even consider going is if there is nothing else that I can do, or that I'm too sick to do anything else.  I still maintain that my least favorite of all places to go is the BYU Student Health Center.  I've been there many times for a number of different things, and I consistently come away with the same feeling, "Well that was a waste of time."  The  incompetence in that place is potent.

In November 2009, during a flag football game, I was reaching out to grab someone's flag as he was running by me with the ball.  As I reached out, he made a cut towards me and, almost literally, ran straight through my  right arm.  I felt my wrist snap.  As I jogged off the field, I could see it start to swell and stiffen.  It hurt!  I was even afraid to tell Eric, my bass teacher, about it because I was sure that he would have pulled out a gun and shot me in the face!  So I let it sit.

A few months later, I was out playing frisbee on a slick field with my friends from freshman year.  At one point, I jumped up to catch the disc, but my feet slid out from under me as I came down.  I tried to catch myself but landed on the same wrist that I hurt during football.  The pain that I felt was almost exactly the same.  I decided not to throw another frisbee for the rest of the game.

After this incident, I went to the aforementioned BYU Student Health Center.  I told them what had happened and how my wrist felt.  They recommended getting an X-ray.  I got it right then and there.

The results, as they told me, showed no structural damage.  So there was obviously "nothing wrong with it", which is what I had heard for just about everything else that I had been there for up to that point and everything that I have been there for since then (shoulder pain, IBS, and depression, just to name a few). I was told that it was probably just a sprain, so they gave me a brace and sent me off.

That was over a year ago.  I still experience that same chronic pain that I did before.  So, as much as I didn't want to, I went to see another doctor.  A hand specialist.  They started the same way: X-ray.  But let me explain the difference in treatment here.

1) Dr Frazier actually LOOKED at my wrist, rather than just glancing at the X-rays.
2) He gave me a guess as to what might be wrong with it.
3) He looked at the X-rays with me and pointed out some very key things.

Now, one of these very key things is that there is, in fact, a bone sticking up out of my wrist.  What did Dr Frazier say that means?  "Well it looks like you actually broke your wrist when you hurt it the first time.  That break probably caused a cyst to develop on the top of the wrist, which would explain where the pain is coming from."

................. I sat in silence for a minute.

Really, BYU?  Really?  You told me that there was nothing wrong or broken.  This guy showed me, in less time than it took you to guess, that there was indeed a broken bone. If it had been caught and had healed properly, there would not be any problems with it.  It's like you didn't even TRY.

At the time, I was on the *mandatory* BYU health plan (for students who are not on private insurance; it is required to have some sort of medical coverage in case of "an accident, unexpected illness, or hospitalization," which "can result in a significant financial burden to you, your family, and the community" (BYU Student Health Plan statement).  So please explain to me why it was required to be on this health plan when I could have come to the same conclusion as you did for myself for $500 cheaper?


I had a representative from the BYU Student Health Center tell me TO MY FACE that the doctors in the student health center are "the best of the best".  Tell me, how is it that the "best of the best" can miss such an obvious bone break, when a supposedly less-than-the-best doctor pointed that out as the FIRST thing that was wrong?


Dr Frazier had me do an MRI, which revealed that I have a ganglion cyst in my right wrist.  Because no one told me that I had a broken bone in my wrist, this cyst has been sitting there for a long time.  I have been reduced to getting it surgically removed.  I hope that my insurance will cover it.  If they don't cover it, and even if they do, I think that I have the right to file a malpractice suit against the BYU Student Health Center.


Best of the best?  Yeah.  Not even close.