My mother sent me this CNN video tonight about a 1995 photograph that changed the way babies are cared for the NICU.  It gave rise to the idea of Kangaroo Care (I’m assuming all preemie parents are nodding their heads right about now) as well as co-bedding twins in the NICU.

It goes beyond cute: we hit a similar situation with the twins while they were in the hospital. One baby had bradycardia and the other had tachycardia, but when the nurses placed them together, their heart rates would regulate themselves and fall into sync with one another. They would suck each other’s hands (as well as yank out each other’s NG tubes because, literally, what is more fun than tugging on that thing coming out of your sibling’s nose?) and rub each other’s hair. And then, they would tuck themselves together as they were in my belly, with one head under the other one’s chin. We have so many photos of them curled into that position.

Watching this video made me cry. I took out pictures of the twins a few days after birth, sleeping together while holding hands. After coming off an evening of reading Harry Potter IV and talking about designing an app, it was amazing to think they were ever that small. And that their lives were so deeply affected by another set of twins’ hug.

Did you know that the practice of Kangaroo Care and co-bedding twins only went back to 1995?  I had no clue of the origin.

Back when I was in third grade, my father bought me an interactive fiction computer game called Zork.  You were the main character in the story, and it was played somewhat like a computer version of Choose Your Own Adventure without set choices at the end.  For instance, the game begins:

You are standing in an open field west of a white house, with a boarded front door.

There is a small mailbox here.

So now what do you do?  Instead of two choices, you have dozens of unprompted choices.  You could type “open the mailbox” or “go east.”  You could walk away from the house by choosing a different direction.  I loved this game because once you got the hang of it — that you had to visualize yourself in the moment and tell the computer what you would do — you could go on an adventure without ever leaving your living room.

The game was made by Infocom.  They made dozens of these interactive fiction games and we owned most of them.  My father bought them for me because I was a terrible speller and the game forced you to spell correctly.  Not only that, but if you cared about winning the game in as few moves as possible (which I did care about), you also didn’t want to mess up a move by typing something wrong (the equivalent to losing money because you got a speeding ticket vs. spending it on something you actually want).  So I learned to care a lot about word choice and typing skills and spelling.

Before I left for college, I bought myself The Lost Treasures of Infocom I and II — about 31 games.  Like my security books — you know, instead of a security blanket, I carry security books — the games just made me feel comfortable.  I knew those worlds as well as I knew my own house.  I could walk around them without a map, knew the best order to do tasks.  I played them a few times during college; I think it was more about having them there than needing to access them.

I brought them with me to graduate school and then down to DC when I moved back here and finally, they ended up in our storage room in a box containing hundreds of cassette tapes.  They weren’t usable anymore; I didn’t have a disc drive in my computer.  But I kept the games for old time sake.  Because they really were good friends of mine a long time ago, like my favourite books.

Fast forward until last week when a conversation with an old friend sparked a conversation with my parents.  I was trying to remember what I had done the New Years Eve in question, and I mentioned that I most likely stayed home and played Infocom games as I pitied myself for my plans changing.  As I said that aloud, my dad smiled and said, “Infocom games!”  And suddenly, I had a deep need to take them out of the basement.  I had all the discs, all the maps, all the hint books — all in pristine condition.

I had once bookmarked a GeekDad article about putting Infocom games on the iPad.  First, I downloaded the app Frotz, which I fell in love with instantly.  Like hardcore love.  Like want to know everything about you all at once sort of love.  Consuming love.  And then I wrote James Floyd Kelly and said, “pretty please how does one get the games into Frotz?”

At this point, I need to pause to publicly thank Jim because he could have blown me off.  But like that Pesach song “Dayenu,” which counts all the ways that each act would have been enough in the Pesach seder, Jim kept going above and beyond in patience to walk me through the process of loading the games onto my iPad as well as reminiscing about the games themselves.  He is truly a Tech Saint, a Geek beyond measure like Superman… only with computer and writing knowledge instead of the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

We had friends over for dinner in the middle of all of this, and I excitedly told them about pulling out my Infocom games.  The husband stared at me and said, “your basement is like… Geek Hoarders.”  So yes, I may have saved technology that is obsolete.  I may have saved interactive fiction games from 1984.  But it all meant something to me.  And I know that writing that doesn’t make a case that I’m not a Geek Hoarder, but my storage room is fairly tame.  I mean, yes, there are a lot of VHS and cassette tapes… but they’re all neatly labeled.  Er…

The most amusing part of this story is that as I sat down to write this post, I Googled “Lost Treasures of Infocom” so I could link to it.  And in doing so, the search engine asked if I wanted Lost Treasures of Infocom for iPad.  Uh, yes, I did want this very badly.  So it turns out that almost all the games were released on iTunes!  The free app comes with Zork.  You need to buy the other games, but the entire bundle of games is only $9.99.  You can also buy the maps and clue books.

I told Jim, and then went to pick up the kids from school, starting a game of Wishbringer while I waited.  And without a map, without playing the game for about 20 years, I could still walk through the town.  Still knew what to do.  Still remembered all the various prompts and locations and tasks.  It was like walking back into my childhood home.  I wanted to hug all the characters in the game, tell them, “it’s me, Melissa!  I’m back.  I’ve missed you guys so much.”  The ChickieNob and I have been playing Wishbringer together.  She is “this” close to finding the wish stone.

The Wolvog has taken to interactive fiction with a vengeance.  If you have a kid who gets overwhelmed by loud noises and intense graphics, interactive fiction games are perfect.  There is no sound, no image; just story.  It took him a day or two to figure out how to imagine himself in the story, to figure out how to direct his character.  Now he moves between the games on Frotz and the Infocom games, playing without needing to ask more than a question or two every once in a while.  There are thousands of these games online; an endless supply, and finding them has opened up a new world for him.  He wants to learn how to code his own interactive fiction games, write his own interactive stories.

Interactive fiction games made me a better writer.  They taught me how to keep a vivid world inside my head; keep track of what I’ve already written and where I want to go.  A novel is just an interactive fiction game set in stone.  Is it a little geeky?  Hells yeah.  But it makes me so damn happy to play these games.  To be frustrated with these puzzles and figure out solutions and read what happens next.  There are still so many out there that I haven’t played yet.

It’s like Pottermore before there was Harry Potter.  Just boiled down to walking through the words of the story instead of having someone else feed you the images.

I find it amusing that the online abbreviation of interactive fiction is also IF.  So I am once again on IF boards and reading IF blogs and discussing IF… except there are no needles, no scans, no speculums, no bad phone calls.

Just Grues.

So… anyone want to play some Zork with me?

This post originally ran in 2007.  I am re-running it because I wanted to reference Choose Your Own Adventures in a future blog post.  So what better way to explain it than to make you do one if you’re unfamiliar with the process.  Plus it was so much work to create it.  It deserves another go-around.

You know the drill — you get to choose Sharon Barren’s destiny (because while it was always fun that the series was in second person, most of us have enough problems in our life without taking on those of Sharon Barren) in this choose-your-own-adventure post. At the end of each section, there is red text that contains two choices. Click on one and continue on your way until you hit the next set of choices. This post won’t make sense unless you choose because the rest of the story is contained on different posts. You need to choose. Choose, damnit! You can always start over at the beginning and choose a new adventure.

A side note: there are 12 possible endings to this story.

A Sharon Barren Choose-Your-Own-Blog-Adventure: The Case of the Terrible Trigger Shot

Sharon Barren, five foot two and a ninja at heart, was driving home from her neighbourhood fertility clinic, IUI dreams dancing in her little head. Her E2 was 869 pg/ml and she was triggering that night. There had only been 3 follicles, which was less than what she wanted considering what she had gone through to make them, but it was better than the one mega follicle she had produced in past stim cycles.

She had enough time to treat herself at the local Starbucks and stop at home before she had to get to work. She wasn’t sure she really needed the calories from a dulce de leche latte, but a treat sure sounded tempting…

• If you want Sharon to stop at the Starbucks, click here.
• If you want Sharon to continue back to her house, click here.

Ask and ye shall receive. A few people requested a Virtual Lushary, and I wholeheartedly agree. It has been a long time since we’ve caught up.

So pull up a seat at the virtual bar and fill us in on what has happened in your life recently.  And if this is your first time at the bar, introduce yourself.  We promise not to haze you.

It has been awhile since we met, bitched, cried, comforted, and caught up each other on our cycles and lives. Pull up a seat and I’ll pour you a drink. Let everyone know what is happening in your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. My only request is that if a story catches your eye, you follow it back to the person’s blog and start reading their posts. Give some love, give some support, or laugh with someone until your drink comes out of your nose.

I have a ton of assvice in my back pocket and as a virtual bartender, I will give it to you unless you specifically tell me that this is simply a vent and you do not want to receive anything more than a hug.

So if you have been a lurker for a while (or if this is your first open bar), sit down and tell us about yourself. Remember to provide a link or a way for people to continue reading your story (or if you don’t have a blog — gasp! — you can always leave an email address if you’re looking for advice or support. If not, people can leave messages for that person here in the comments section too). If you’re a regular at the bar, I’ll get out your engraved martini glass while you make yourself comfortable. And anyone new, welcome. I’m glad you found this virtual bar.

For those who have no clue what I’m talking about when I say that the bar is open, click here to catch up and then jump into the conversation back on this current post.

So have an imaginary cocktail and tell us what is up with your life.

So the world is going to end.  Probably like… I don’t know… 10 billion years from now.  And that sucks.  When I read on iO9 about how we now know definitively that the world is going to end, I felt really sad.  Especially since one of my big loves is the Higgs boson (Josh likes to say, “if you love that boson so much, why don’t you marry it?”  Maybe I will, maybe I will).

It sort of doesn’t matter if it’s going to take place 10 billion years from now, when no one will be around to remember our generation.  It’s just the idea of something I really like — the world, for instance — ending.  What if I plant a time capsule now with a note that it be opened in 10 billion years?  Now I can’t do that because the earth itself isn’t even going to be here by that time.  I’m going to have to set it for 9 billion years.  And that isn’t as special.

Of course, if the physicist’s calculations are off, we don’t need to worry about the world ending by being swallowed by an alternate universe.  Though it sounds as if they’re fairly certain that 10 billion years from now, all of this will be gone.  So… yeah… I’m back to sad again.

Am I the only one who is really sad thinking about the world ending, even if it is 10 billion years from now?

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Poetry for the Aunt You Love to Hate” (Just Stop Trying and It Will Happen)
• “Invisible Badge” (Life from Here)
• “Infertility and Shame” (No Kidding in NZ)
• “Birth Day, VI” (Awful But Functioning)
• “A Note from Me to You” (Ask Moxie)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Just Another Infertility Blog has a post that starts out about religion but changes to be an epiphany that came through meditation.  She has stopped asking herself why she’s struggling with infertility.  She writes, “What I’ve discovered is that those questions are not really helpful and I’ve been trying to move away from that type of thinking and look more at what this experience has taught me and what I can take away from all of this.”  It’s just a really thought-provoking post.

Res Cogitatae has a post about her recent bout of anxiety.  The post feels like an onion unpeeling, all these layers coming undone to get to that anxiety in the center.  And it all comes down to the unknowns — all the various unknowns of life and work and family building.  She explains, “Dear readers, if you have been with me  all this time (and I know some of you have) you know this about me: I do not do well with unknowns. I am a planner. An organizer. I cannot stand ceding control of my life to the universe.”  As someone who is similar in nature, this post spoke to me.  Especially the idea that naming it really can help you wrap your brain around it and feel as if the anxiety-inducing elements have been brought down to size.

I cracked up over Something Out of Nothing’s post about her two-hour delay.  That’s all.  I just felt the need to point out her dry wit.

And to that end, Mrs. Spit has a gorgeous post about being a memory keeper.  That’s all.  I just felt the need to point out this piece of heart-wrenching beauty.

Lastly, Silent Sorority has a post unpacking some of Hilary Mantel’s now infamous words about Kate Middleton as well as the pressure royalty go through to produce an heir.  She asks if the world would be as interested in William and Kate if they were an infertile couple; would they celebrate them as a family of two?  As I said in her comment section, on one hand, the pressure on royals to reproduce is horrifying (and the #1 reason I would never in a trillion years want to be a princess).  But if we look at it as a job?  Then I’m not as horrified.  If the purpose of a doctor is to treat illness, then I would expect a doctor to treat illness.  And if the purpose of a monarch is to ensure the stability of the government and produce an heir that will succeed the current monarch, then we can look back at history and see that big problems arise when there is a fight for power.  While I don’t think the United Kingdom will fall apart if Kate and William never reproduced, I could see a country holding its collective breath waiting for another royal to be born because that child signifies continuation.  Stability.  Government.  Which also translates into security for the nation.  Heady things.  She is never going to personally “rule,” though she has an important role in creating that stability.  Go over there and give her your thoughts.

The roundup to the Roundup: Are you also sad that the world is going to end?  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between February 15th and 22nd) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.