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The Devil is Real

JC and I have been saving our pennies, essentially since we married, in the hopes of one day purchasing a house. Last year we felt we were ready to take the plunge into the scary world of home-owners. Early in 2016 (like February or March), JC called our bank to ask about a mortgage. They ran a credit check and my score was over 100 points lower than what it had been when JC checked at Christmas. Since I am not a big spender, I don't have any delinquent loans, or secret off-shore bank accounts this was a red flag. The bank did not know why my credit score would be low so JC pulled my credit reports. The reports showed that I had a delinquent account with Comcast. I have not had an account with Comcast in years.

When we lived in C-ville, JC and I used Comcast. For internet, in C-ville there are really only two options: the first is a very expensive local provider, the second is Comcast. As young newly weds and college students we went with Comcast. The service was awful (as in unreliable). Our internet would frequently stop working, we would call Comcast, they would send a guy out to do service, and then we may or may not have internet again. It was ridiculous. I has in school and had homework assignments that required reliable internet usage. We ultimately decided to end our contract with Comcast and I would do my homework either on campus or at my in-laws.
After that our lives became much happier.
And that was the last time I have held a Comcast account.

So to hear that I had an account with them was laughable. JC was able to get the address and name on the account (Texas and not my name). We were confused why an account held in a state that I had never been to (nor did I know anyone living there) and not in my name would be linked to me. There is no way to directly access the Comcast fraud department and when you call in using the number provided on their website, none of the employees knew how to transfer you to that department. Frustrated, I got onto Comcast's Facebook account and left really bad reviews. Service employees responded to my complaints and we were finally able to get in contact with their fraud department. We spent over a month working with the department. They couldn't do anything but helped us figure out what paper work we needed.

Part of the paper work involved me going to the police station to file a report. The officer thought it was ridiculous and tried calling Comcast who refused to talk to him unless he had a court document.

JC drove to Indiana (where the closest Comcast office is) to get documentation on our most recent Comcast accounts because they would not send them over the phone. The employee at the office could not figure out how to print our accounts as the system was preventing her. She promised to mail them to JC who made the 90 minute drive back home and we received them in the mail a week later. I then filled out the paperwork and sent it in along with the police report, four months later my credit score was fixed (to be fair, the long wait here could be because of the credit agencies and not Comcast as scores are not frequently updated).

What happened, when the person in Texas opened an account with Comcast they gave my SSN. I have no idea how they got my SSN (they could have used a random generator). But here are the important questions: why did Comcast need a SSN to open that account? Neither JC nor I have ever given our SSNs to open internet accounts. Why was the information associated with that SSN not checked? JC and I used to be apartment managers we would run background and checks using the prospective tenants SSN and other provided information. Had a Comcast employee run a credit check when the account was opened they would have seen that the SSN and name did not match and this whole nightmare would not have happened.

This cartoon accurately depicts my feelings:

And we will never have an account with Comcast again.


Mis pensamientos

Creo que el puesto de Presidente de los Estados Unidos debe ser respetado. No puedo gustarme Donald Trump pero respetaré su oficina y oraré para que sea un buen presidente. El respeto no implica la fe ciega, pero pide que la oficina se mantenga a altos estándares. El cambio climático es real. Es major construer puentes que paredes. No es solo de los estadounidenses, ya que todos compartimos este mismo planeta; Estamos todos juntos en esto. Construyamos puentes para cruzar ríos de malentendido. 
Tengo miedo de Trump pero tengo esperanza para el futuro.

Dios bendiga a todos.

Decidimos "celebrar" su inauguración con comida rica Mexicana :)


Old World Disease in a New World

My background is in microbiology. During my undergraduate courses they would mention diseases like Small Pox or Measles simply to illustrate the effect of the pathogen but would never go into any serious epidemiology. But you still had a sense of "unless I go to a small country that doesn't have plumping or electricity I'll never see this."

Not Hulk but looks exactly like his rash.
Original Source
Flash forward a few years to Monday night. Hulk put himself down to bed two hours early with a fever and the start of a rash on his chest. Tuesday morning his body is covered and the fever had persisted. I figure he has a viral infection (no big deal) but decided to follow a prompting from the Holy Ghost to take him in. He had Scarlet Fever. Seriously, who gets Scarlet Fever? No one. (well, almost no one)

During the day he has been a very well behaved patient nor have I had to worry about him getting into things at work. I even had him help me make some protein gels yesterday :) At night he is up every few hours in pain and screaming. The rash is very itchy and the high fever causes his hands and feet to swell and hurt. But he has responded really well to the antibiotic, there's hope yet.


Milestones: Hulk's first ER visit

Have I ever mentioned how amazing my kid is? Because he's pretty great. As a baby I didn't have to worry about his putting random objects into his mouth because, unless it was obviously food, he wasn't into that. He doesn't like climbing on things or running too fast for fear he'll fall and bump his head. He doesn't like getting dirty (this one makes going to the coast rough). I could go on. He does enjoy "helping" and doing things for himself. These traits can sometimes vacillate between being super cute and super obnoxious. The point: I have never had a serious scar or trip to the ER before.

Hulk has been potty-trained for over a year now but he still seeks affirmation. He'll run up to me while I'm in the kitchen, "Mommy! Mommy! I went pee and washed my hands!" And I'll respond by telling him good job and that I'm proud of him (at what point does using the potty stop being point of pride?? I think we're ready to reach that...). So, one morning last week I had just finished packing our lunches and we were about to head out the door for the day when Hulk decided he needed to go potty. So he went, came out running to tell me he went poop and that he now needed to flush the toilet and wash his hands (great!). He then runs back into the bathroom. At this point I hear a thud. I wait a second. Hulk starts crying. I walk into the bathroom and he's sitting on the floor with a bit of blood on his forehead. I sit down on the floor, move him to my lap, and ask him if he's ok, what happened, etc. He cries and tells me he hit is head on the toilet. We have a stool that he moves between the toilet and the sink and I think when he bent down to pick it up he moved to quick and bumped his head. So I wipe up the blood with some toilet paper and look at his war wound. It's not big, but it's deep, and I can see fascia. I contemplate super glueing it but it's on his face so I'd like to avoid too much scaring. So I pull out my phone and start googling where to go for stitches. 

Usually I'd go to my favorite doctor but we're currently over 2000 miles apart (boo!). I call Hulk's pediatrician's office, no, they don't do stitches. So I start looking for the closest Urgent Care Center and load my crying child into the car. At the Center there is only a doctor, nurse, and a receptionist. They claimed they didn't have any anesthesia so we'd have to hold him down. Again, if it wasn't on his face I would not have minded. So I load him back into the car. By this point the initial shock has worn off and he's pretty mellow. I tell him we're going to the hospital and he becomes excited because that's where the ambulances are (spoiler: we didn't see any ambulances and he was disappointed)

Long story short: I have a love/hate relationship with the ER. I love how friendly, kind, and intelligent the staff are. They made Hulk feel comfortable and let him watch kids' TV shows to distract him while the doctor worked (this was a big deal for him as we restrict his screen time at home). I hate that we spent 2.5 hours there for roughly 10 minutes of work and he's been asking to watch The Adventures of Chuck and Friends since. 

If you're to ask Hulk what happened to his forehead he becomes animated and starts talking about trucks. :)

ps. Trying to get your child to hold still for a picture of his stitches is impossible. I probably have a hundred of these on my phone. #ugh

But he's still cute :)