Operation Recuperation: the raincoaster situation

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I’m feeling better (well enough, in fact, to blog!) and thought I’d give my millions of devoted readers (both of you; did I mention I had two million readers? Well, two million people of whom one point seven came here looking for Beaver Shots and went away confused, which is something, anyway) some clue as to what I’ve been going through.

As happens each year at the turning of the seasons, when the sun looks at Vancouver and turns, in fact, away completely, tossing a heartless “see you in May” over its shoulder as it heads to California, the rains have set in and that means that the mold, the mildew, the emos and the creepy-crawlies are ascendant.

All of these, with the exception of emos (because I hate clove cigarettes) can, according to my doctor, be found in my lungs at the present time.

My lungs, in fact, look something like this:

The fungus Pilobolus fires off its sporangiophore using a water cannon or “squirt gun,” reaching accelerations that are among the fastest in nature.

Here we present a montage of high-speed video clips showing sporangiophore discharge in the fungus Pilobolus kleinii. The videos were obtained at camera frame rates of up to 250,000 fps. Each discharge is completed in less than 0.25 milliseconds; an eye blink takes 100 milliseconds, or 400 times longer! The music is Verdi’s Anvil Chorus.

For more information, click here.

Anvil Chorus and all.

Oh, yes, and I forgot to mention that yesterday, when I sat down to blog, I was bitten on the ass by an Aggressive House Spider. They don’t call them that for nothing, and that was the reason I ended up smearing toothpaste on my butt at two in the morning.

What? What? It draws the poison out.

Although the Co-op where I live has improved things somewhat in the last year, tacking a new roof on so the water hardly ever wells up through my carpet anymore and disposing of the large areas of ceiling which had rotted through and caved in on the second floor (it’s a four-story building) and even carting away some of the drywall in the lobby where the mildew had eaten through, things here cannot be said to be spore-free.

And my lungs, scarred by some mystery illness when I was a baby, have never been the best (every time I get a chest X-ray they look all concerned until I say “oh, is this about the scar tissue? Check the records”). And there is, as there always is, a flu/cold/virus of doom going around Vancouver which knocks everyone on their asses for a week or so.

And so.

Put all these things together and you get someone who’s been running a temperature for nearly three weeks, appears to be unable to fully digest food of any kind, has essentially no appetite, produces her own body weight in mucus every eighteen hours, and coughs like that guy…that guy at the theatre…that one everyone hated by fifteen minutes into the flick. If I ever get this money I’m owed, I’m trotting straight down to Canadian Tire and buying one of those combo heater/dehumidifiers/air filters, and there goes three hundred bucks but it’s worth it.

Which is why I’m staying home tonight instead of going out to a social activist/geek event three blocks from my house featuring free booze.

Yes. I said free booze.

That’s how sick I am.

29 thoughts on “Operation Recuperation: the raincoaster situation”

  2. Crap! I’ve seen squats in better shape than that. How is it even allowed to be occupied? Somebody with bad lungs does not need to be there. But I don’t suppose Canadian health care extends to finding you healthy housing. Hope you are better, soon.

  3. I don’t know if it does or not. I’m considering asking the city to send an inspector. Three years ago I found MUSHROOMS growing in a corner of my living room.

    BUT. Since I haven’t been paid and still owe $16 on my rent for this month, I’m not in the world’s greatest position to rock the boat.

    Also, the sliding glass doors have no seals, so essentially it’s just a huge open doorway as far as heat is concerned. There’s mold growing between the two panes of double-glazing.

  6. No, I generally find that staying out of malls and hipster gatherings protects me. I do shoot to kill when I see those dorky porkpie hats, though. No sense taking any chances.

  8. If I donate $20 US, will you finish paying the rent, and then call the city? You need to get out of there, girl. I wouldn’t sentence George Bush to live there. Especially not with slugs crawling in.

  10. Jinkies, between your lungs and the spider, October will go down as The Month That Sucked Even More Than September When the World Met Caribou Barbie.

  11. Raincoaster turned down free booze?

    Takes off hat, shuffles feet.

    Well. That’s it then, innit? Nuffin’ to do but wait to bury the poor girl.

    I happen to have a pre-dug plot handy … even a headstone with the right name on it … no reason why.

  12. If you donate $20 I will pay the rest of my rent and call the city, yes. But hold off, because I’m owed a thousand bucks…unfortunately, the group that owes it to me has decided to play hardball with a third party and keep the wages everyone earned back as ransom. They are, apparently, not as familiar with BC Labour Code as former retail assistant manager and union liaison moi, and if this continues another week they are going to get a rude shock from my lawyer and/or the forces of the law. So hang on a bit.

    Yes, raincoaster turned down free booze. Free booze and the company of many handsome, buff men (thank GOD for the gym fad among Vancouver techies). But not quite dead yet; your forethought and consideration, however, are appreciated.

  15. Blimey you are sick. I sympathise. I went into hospital with chest pains and the consultant stuck a tube through my artery into my heart just to make sure though he was fine about it all anyway. Glad he took it all so well. Still got chest pain but happily ignoring it. But it’s like a mild angina attack now and then – no fever, I can eat. Not sitting too easily but I can eat and drink. Not like you, Rain. We have GOT to get you out of there. No really. Can’t you open an account we can put money in?

  16. A generous donor already sent me some cash, so the rent will be covered, thank GOD. And I promised to call the city about this; they’re closed now, but will reopen tomorrow and meanwhile I can read up on the website about what they can and can’t do. Since it’s a Co-op, my cousin who’s senior at CMHC might be able to give me some guidance.

  17. My heart was in my mouth I thought you were gonna say you found mushrooms growing in your LUNGS. Do take care, we need you so, take care.

  21. Thanks. No, I’ve been blogging about the mold in this place on one blog or another since 2002, so I figure that should be enough of a record. We’ll see when the guy calls tomorrow.

    Unfortunately, it appears the co-op has done cosmetic repairs in the common areas and the largest spots of evidence are all replaced now with new drywall. This was done in the last couple of months, but no new repairs have been made to the exterior of the building. Oh well, maybe the inspector will come anyway and get them to do something about the mildew and fungus on the carpet that’s visible in my living room at the very least, and about which I complained when I moved into this apartment. And every year since.

  24. The bloggers’ lobby at Operation Global Media Domination may just have to march upon Vancouver. The place will never be the same. Free booze AND free men? Or whatever it is I’m saying? Sheesh. BTW, the chorus I sing in performed The Anvil Chorus just last year. Thanks to you, I shall evermore ASSociate it with spores! Hope you’re much weller soon.

  26. And the good luck keeps rolling; apparently the Co-op has had a change of heart, realizing that documenting and fixing mold problems supports their request for a big grant for building envelope work, so I may get this fixed after all!

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