Archive: Apr 2013

  1. Screeching Halt

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    The stress of an over-committed life has just caught up with me. Again. Fortunately the Universe ha its was of getting the necessary message through using surrogate situations and objects. But I am a good listener, and most of the time I get it in the first round. But this one took two rounds.

    Last Fall I was running around like a maniac, shuttling kids, keeping up with commitments, often driving above the speed limit. Then one night Blue Leaf, my electric car, my pride and joy, got hit. No fault of mine, someone backed into it in a parking lot. But the event forced me to slow down, to get out of the frantic pace.

    Apparently I did not take the message to heart. Self-publishing my first book, often staying up past midnight battling my picture editing software, then CreateSpace’s submission guidelines; in the meantime trying to be the best Mom, the best Wife, the best Green Chemist, and the best Foster-turned-Permanent Parent to a dog filled with heartworms.

    So it happened again. Yup, my car. I drove over a gravel-filled crack in the road, and the screeching started immediately. A mile later it was so loud that my daughter Kati greeted me in front of the house with a horrified look on her face. Next day I called a tow truck and scheduled a service at the dealership. And I reflected again on the pace I have been living, and what would happen if I came to a screeching halt instead of my car. I promised, again, to my stressed-out body to take it easy from now on.

    A minute before the tow truck was supposed to arrive, I gingerly backed the car out of the garage. Nothing. Not even the faintest scraping noise. Then I saw the tow truck coming down the street. Oh, oh… The gentleman was nice, he waited while I drove around the block, then looked under the hood. He and I came to the conclusion: a stone had been wedged in the wheel, then came loose when I backed up.

    “You got off easy, but we are begging you, please go slower!”- The Universe

     

  2. To Baxter’s Pep Squad: Treatment Update

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    “The only completely consistent people are the dead.” Aldous Huxley

    Last Friday we took Baxter in for a second opinion regarding his heartworm treatment. For three weeks we have been doing the slow kill method, which is coincidentally the prep for the fast kill, also; he would be due about now if we changed our minds.  The new vet did manage to change our minds. He estimated Baxter’s age at about four years, and his infestation about two years long. In his practice the average time for slow kill is another two years. That was an eye-opener. A lot of damage has been done by the parasites, and a lot more will be done in two more years.

    So the family talked it over and we felt that Baxter would want these gone as soon as possible. So we decided to go with the fast kill:  a series of 3 injections with an organo-arsenic compound called Immiticide. It can be rough on the dogs, but a lot better than its predecessor Caparsolate.

    Baxter received his first injection today, and we are surprised how well he is doing. We had to work at keeping him not bouncing off the wall, when he saw the girls again.

    Keeping our fingers crossed…

     

  3. Mistaken Identity

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    When I took Bluebell, my Nissan Leaf for the state inspection, I managed to pull a little prank on another Leaf owner. I was sitting in the waiting area when I saw another blue Leaf pull into the service bay. A middle age woman of Asian descend stepped out of the car and after handing over her keys, she joined us inside. Once she settled, I asked her about her car. Her eyes sparkled as she told me how much she likes driving it, that she only brought it in for the battery check, that she has 8000 miles after one year, but now starting to venture further and further from Chapel Hill. I just smiled and nodded, asked a few more questions, then returned to my knitting.

    About twenty minutes later I saw my car driven out of the service bay and parked by the window. The lady quickly rose and gathered her belongings. She then paused and just stared at the car. Surely, it is her car, but what happened to the big blue sticker? And why are there two small black magnets now on the back of her car? Mystified, she sat down, but only for a moment. She stood up for a second, and then for a third look.

    A minute later the clerk came into the waiting area to let me know that my car was ready. I walked out of the room giving the lady a quick waive. As I was getting into my car, I managed to resist the temptation to turn around and waive toward the waiting room.

  5. What You Give, You Shall Receive

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    There are at least two e-mails in my inbox each workday morning. And I look froward to both, I rarely leave for work without taking at least a quick glance at them. They are two inspirational messages, one from Neale Donald Walsch, the other from “The Universe”, a.k.a Mike Dooley. They always lift my spirit and most of the time they go straight right into my heart.

    One morning in December I received a fundraising request from Neale Neale Donald Walsch. I though, what a great way to express my gratitude, and I proceeded to donate 25 dollars. When I hit send, I had this inner knowing that I will be repaid somehow. I did not realize how soon…

    Later that day I took my Nissan Leaf to the dealer for the annual checkup. My electric car does not need any ongoing maintenance, but they recommend to take it in once a year to check the brakes, a few other things, and the performance of the battery. Total cost $18. I also wanted to get the state inspection done, unfortunately their computer system was down and asked me to come back another time for that.

    As I am sitting in the waiting room, a gentleman approaches me and offers a coupon for preventative maintenance. He is in for major repairs, and will not be able to use the coupon, so he wants me to have it. I am not sure, that my checkup is qualified, but I take it with gratitude. When it is time to check out, the clerk is hesitant to take it, but calls to the back of the room for advice. Yes, she can use it! someone yells out. Ka-ching, ten dollars off!

    A few days later I am back for the state inspection. When the car is ready, I go to the cashier, only to be informed that there is no charge, because they made me come back the second time. Ka-ching, thirteen dollars off!

    OK, Universe, now you only owe me TWO DOLLARS!

  6. The 60th Mom

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    Last Friday night I was snuggling with my daughters, who were a bit cranky over their perceived lack of sharing, fairness, and all thing being equal. In frustration, I burst out that they need to clone me 10, 20, no, a hundred times! One of me just to follow them around and jump at every request. Another me just to do laundry so every clothing item would be clean and neatly pressed each day. Another me to sew clothes and pillows for everyone. Another me to teach them sports and take them to events. Another me in charge of their beauty supply and do makeup, hair, manicure, pedicure.

    Kati joined the challenge and kept adding more full-time moms to the growing list. I snuck in a version of me who would sign up at the local racquet club and plays tennis all day. At number 60 Kati offered me a huge break: a mom who sleeps all day and all night to make up for the other 59 moms going 24/7.

    Well, kids, I got news for you. There is only one of me, and even that one will not be around forever, at least not in physical form. Sooner or later you will have to find your inner spring of happiness.

    At 10p.m. our snuggle time came to a close. I ushered the girls out of my room and I pretended to be Mom #60, for at least the next 9 hours.

  7. Foggy Weekend

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    Friday night I ate a big bowl of rice cereal. It tasted too salty, so I grabbed the box to take a peek. And there it was. Not the sea salt, listed under ingredients, but the warning “contains gluten”. Oh, brother…

    By next  morning the mental fog had descended and I was trapped. I dragged from the moment I woke up.  Earth’s gravity force has multiplied tenfold overnight, and  all I wanted to do is remain horizontal for the rest of the day. The sadness and despair came lagging a few hours behind. No motivation to accomplish anything, no goal worth pursuing. Barely able to cover basic functions. Walking in molasses.

    Sunday was the same. Managed to make it to Sunday Service at our Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, but after lunch collapsed on the outdoor swing and took a long nap. It did not help much. But at least this time I did not break out in itchy blisters.

    By Monday morning the fog was gone. I had tons of energy, and life was grand again. Welcome back, Joy and Clarity!

    So here is this blog entry, to remind myself here, in this space: no matter, how hard my diet is, it is all worth it. I shall not revisit the first four decades of my life again.

    I also wonder, how many others keep walking in the fog….?

  8. Dragon 2

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    In an earlier post (Riding the Dragon) I wrote about my encounter with my spirit dragon. Well, today I had another dragon sighting. I was sitting by my computer, having trouble concentrating because of Baxter’s predicament being Heartworm positive, when I glanced at the little golden and purple dragon on my windowsill. My thoughts kept bouncing between the two treatment options: the fast kill versus the slow kill. The fast kill involves a series of injections using an arsenic containing drug. Very effective, and extremely painful. And he will have no activity for 2 months other than to visit the back yard . The other option is to keep him on Doxycycline + HeartGuard, and hold our breath for about one year. Works in 80-90% of the time. He was only a faint positive a month ago, before we got him, but the vet strongly recommended the fast kill, due early May. But today I am having some serious doubts.

    Staring at my dragon, I felt compelled to go for a walk in order to gain some clarity. By the time I got to Paige’s bench I had a new decision: since there is a chance that Baxter won’t make it either way, and I’d rather not have him suffer while he is still around. I will opt for the slow kill.

    “He will be all right, we will make sure of it,” I heard in my head.

    “Can I get a reassurance, some sign, that I am making the right decision?” I implored silently.

    “By the end of your walk you will have a sign.” And with that I was sent on my way.

    Returning from the woods I entered the same parking lot where I found my dragon. Halfway across, I raised my glance at an SUV in my path. And there it was, right in front of me, on the license plate:  “DRAGON 2”.

    Baxter will be all right.

     

  9. Dogs and Baths

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    Last Saturday, before we learned how sick Baxter is, we took him to a training class. He has had a few skirmishes with some resident pets, so we decided that Donnie, a rugged version of Cesar Millan, would be a good choice to talk some sense into our pooch. At the beginning of the class Donnie came over to us and stuck his face into Baxter’s. THAT is not an aggressive dog, otherwise I would not stick my face into his!” declared Donnie loudly. Observing the other dogs, it became clear that Baxter did not belong in his class. But I enjoyed seeing Donnie handle all the dogs. He left the toughest one last. “Bring me the Back Devil!” he called out to the owners.

    At the end of the class I asked Donnie about giving Baxter a bath in the bathroom. “Oh, no,” he cried out, “just hose him down outside! Have you ever seen a dog that likes taking a bath?” he continued. “I used to do drug busts and I would burst into these houses filled with dogs launching at me. DO YOU WANT A BATH??? I would yell, and they would slink away at once. The cops entering later would ask, ‘How did you do that’, I’d tell them that I just offered the dogs a bath.”

    Well, Baxter got his first cleaning right underneath a cherry tree, and all went well. I still plan to try some of Donnie’s more gentle techniques to improve walking on a leash, once Baxter gets healthy.

  10. Baxter’s Pep Squad

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    All right, it is time to admit: we are foster failures. We have fallen for this gentle pooch and decided that our home should be his forever home. What a journey it has been! Starting out as novice dog fosters, but experienced dog nurses, we have taken in a sweet dog, only to learn that there will be a lot more nursing than teaching how to shake hands and play dead. But all challenges come with blessings. Ours are the wonderful people Baxter has brought into our lives. My daughter, Baxter’s caregiver, calls them Baxter’s Pep Squad. To all of our new friends who care deeply about this sweet boy: Thank you!