Reading Comprehension

I have Flintstone’s Internet.  I think inside my CPU is a squirrel, which listens to my modem, then chisels tablets which are then handed off to an albatross which flies to my ISP.  It’s SLOW.  And forget anything high falutin’ like You Tube.  Video?!  There’s no video in Bedrock, Wilma.  Sometimes, like this afternoon, nobody’s home at the ISP.  Apparently it’s Fred & Barney’s bowling day or there was a meeting of The Royal Order of Water Buffalo.  So, no connection for me this afternoon, which is quite frustrating when I have a blog entry just begging to be posted.  As you can see, I finally managed to get online.


Last call for those of you who wish to contribute to my research project: The Most Insensitive Thing Someone Has Said to Me About Cancer.  For those of you who are just tuning in, I’m collecting stories from breast cancer survivors about the most insensitive comments they’ve heard in the course of their treatment.  I’ve gotten some good ones, but I know there are more out there.  If you’ve told me your story in person, please don’t assume that I remember it.  Email it to me.  I’ll be compiling them into a blog entry later in the week—keeping everyone anonymous of course, so you can rant without hurting anyone’s feelings.  (Though after some of the things that have been said to me, I’m not really sure why any of us care.) Think of it as sort of a combination of group therapy and a public service announcement. 


Everyone who has managed to successfully follow me from the old blog to this one should give themselves a hearty pat on the back.  Believe it or not, some folks are still sitting around waiting for their next update email from the old place.  I’ve had several folks ask me how my appointment with Dr Schmidt went—people who normally would keep up with that sort of thing on the blog.  Apparently they didn’t get that part where I said, “Hey, I’m not going to post updates here anymore.”   Reading comprehension, people!  It really makes me wonder how much of what I write actually sticks.  Am I writing an entire paragraph, only to have the majority of readers retaining only two or three incomplete thoughts?  Perhaps even having those partial thoughts stitched together in the recesses of their ADHD minds? 

How many of you would read that preceding paragraph and summarize it as “Moody isn’t going to blog here anymore because she’s got ADHD and a stitch in her back.”  Uh-huh.  That’s what I thought.  Some of you are thinking, “Yeah, yeah, yeah…shut up and write about The Foob already!” And the rest of you are singing, “Flinstones, meet the Flintstones…”