Welcome Back, Me!

Welcome Back Me!

Take 2

 

Second Attempt to make a new blog post - lol!

 

Well, it seems that there are a lot of new things about Blogger that I don't know about in the intervening years since I last posted.  I am going to try this post again and see how it goes.

 

 

Well, the years have been exciting.  The years have been trying.  I have been living the old Chinese Curse:

 

May you live in interesting times

 

Living in interesting times is not a completely bad thing.  There are always new things a-happenin'.  There are always new stories to tell.  Most important, living in interesting times tests my adaptability and my response to the world around me.  I live in interesting times.  I am adapting.  I am evolving as a person.  I am growing.

 

Things could be worse.

 

Those of you closest to me know that I lost my Mother last November.  It's official.  I'm an orphan. 

 

The loss of Mom turned out to be far more traumatic than I would have imagined.  But I will leave that post for another time.  Mom and I had a very difficult relationship.  I spoke to her doctor about a month after Mom passed.  We spoke at length about Mom's issues and what took her out.  We spoke about Mom in general.  We spoke about my guilt for allowing her to pass.  Her doctor's take on the whole thing?

 

Mom and I had a very difficult relationship.  Children of problematic parents often are racked with guilt after they pass.  I am not unusual.

 

Also,

 

Mom often complained about how I had abandoned her.  However, Dr. Davis knew that I hadn't.  In fact,  her take on it was that Mom had abandoned me.  She was exactly right.  Mom abandoned me when I was very young.  Mom continued to draw me in and then abandon me right to the end.  When it became clear that she was not going to survive the last round of hospitalization and she could still understand but not communicate anymore, I forgave her for everything she ever did to me.  I also told her that I hoped she could find it in her heart to forgive me for the things she felt I had done to her.  She gave me a look like she hated me, but I have no idea whether she meant it or it was just something that the continuing strokes caused.  My gut feeling was that she meant it, but it doesn't matter.  She was gone three days later, I had said what I needed to say, and although I would have liked to have come to some sort of conclusion to our relationship before she left, she was never capable of that and to expect things to be any different was to wish for pie-in-the-sky.

 

May you live in interesting times.

 

I am taking lots of beading classes.  My work has ascended far beyond the average beader and I am a designer now.  A designer who is starting to be noticed and responded to by the Bead Masters who I am starting to see more and more often. 

 

I have taken classes this year with:

 

Laura McCabe - Beguiling Blossoms

Nancy Cain Mezzaluna and Lantern Jewel

Anja Schlotman Fall at Blanches

Huib Peterson - Creature Feature

Kinga Nichols - Zeno, The Tiniest Fishy

Aimee Runs With Scissors

and more... I just can't remember at the moment.

 

I also participated monthly at Creative Castle in the Bead Embroidery Independent Study Workshop.

 

I still have the following scheduled:

 

Sherri Sanchez - Mosaic Rock

Diane Dennis - Under The Dome

Shelley Nybakke - Cover Me With Kisses and Bit O' Bling

Heather Kingsley Heath - Oculi

 

Have I mentioned that I am excelling in beading and striving to learn as much as I can as fast as I can?

 

I live in interesting times.

 



 

 

Gabby broke her back being bucked off of her horse, Aladdin.  Just as she was ready to start competing seriously for the first time in many years.  She had never had a fall like this before, and although she is going to be just fine, I fear that the fall has unnerved her.  I am praying that she gets back to her horse quickly and there are still a couple of horse shows this year at the new location her trainer, Sandie Springer, just moved to.  We are now at Hansen Dam Equestrian Center - for three days - and I hope that the drama stops for us now and Gabby can get a new start.  She deserves a break, and not in her back.

 

I live in interesting times.

 

Life is not bad.

 

More to come on another day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





Please, Just One More Day

At this time yesterday, I was sure that today was going to be the day that Cosmos was going to leave me. He hadn't eaten for three or four days, his toxin levels from his Kidney Failure had suddenly shot through the roof when last month, they were almost normal. He had been suffering from diahrreah mostly on rather than off for a couple of weeks, and our appointment with Dr. Florio last Thursday was really grim.
On Friday, I was fairly hysterical the whole day. I could see my boy was suffering; was slipping away from me. This despite him being on two IV infusions a day to try to flush the toxins out of his system. He could barely stand, let alone walk. Yet there was a spirit of life within him, trying to hold on. He would ask to go outside to walk around the condo a little bit, and even onto the sidewalk in front. And everyone that walked by, as he always did in the past, he begged to have them pet him. He loves acknowledgment and to be pet.

Ian had called on Thursday night in response to me canceling a sleep-over for Eric's kids and Ian. I couldn't deal with my boy slipping away from me and the kids at the same time. Adele chose that time to let Ian know that Cosmos was probably dying. Ian, on his own, called, asked to be put on speaker phone to talk directly to Cosmos, and made his peace with him. Once he was done talking directly to Cozie, he and I talked, discussing the various medicines I had Cosmos on to try to keep him comfortable and well. In the end, I invited Ian to come over on Friday so that he could visit with Cosmos one last time and be able to say good bye in person.

In the morning, I had called the vet's office frantically. Wasn't there anything they could do to help Cosmos eat? If he would just eat, I really felt that he might last a little longer. They had an injection that they could try... an anti-nausea medication with an appetite stimulant in it. I had Cosmos over within the hour for the shot, and then brought him home. He slept for hours until Ian arrived. I had called the vet's office just before he arrived, and they said that the med doesn't usually cause drowsyness, but that Cosmos could just be sleeping because he finally felt relief from the gastric symptoms.

Ian left, and shortly thereafter, Risa, his special friend, an animal specialist, and his babysitter came to visit too. I think Risa is magic. She somehow got Cosmos to eat a few biscuits, and gave me a list of all sorts of foods that he might be induced to eat. She left, with a promise to come back again today. And I immediately went out shopping.

I returned home with all sorts of foods that were so far off of my radar that it had never occured to me to look for them. Spam, potted meats, bacon, white bread (toast) with real butter. I tried Spam on Cozie with no success, and faired no better with the bacon. He did eat a small portion of buttered toast, though, so at least that was something.

This morning, I got up and Cosmos followed me into the kitchen. He seemed really hungry and I offered him a little toast which he ate. Then I offered him some of the cold bacon. to my surprise, he took it and swallowed it down! I gave him a little bit more and then thought to make him a "Grand Slam"breakfast of champions. I took one egg, mixed it with some heavy whipping cream and water, scrambled it, and put it into a frying pan saturated with real butter and some of the bacon. When it finished cooking, I took another piece of toast, tore it into bits, and mixed it in to soak up all the butter and egg juices. As soon as it was cool enough, I offered it to Cosmos. He ate it. I gave him another IV, some of his medication (he wouldn't take all of it), and went to Costco to pick up more IV solution, butter, whipped cream (he loves whip cream), and I forgot what else but it was for him.

Then I took him to the vet for the visit that just yesterday, I thought was going to mark the end of his life. Dr. Florio was as surprised as I was to see a dog who was clearly weak and on his last legs, but in good spirits. Cosmos had had a wonderful time in the waiting room visiting with the other dogs and dog parents, and had been pet in the back too. He was taken off to have his blood drawn, and since I was fairly sure that it was going to show better numbers than last Thursday, and since I was definitely not going to put him down today, instead of waiting for the blood results, I took my boy home.

Dr. Florio called later. Although his toxin levels are far from normal, they had dropped considerably from last Thursday. He may have a few days left in him.

He is terribly thin and weak. I know that the rest of his life depends on him continuing to have the will to fight, and on him eating. The problem with that is that the toxins make him nauseous... like he has a bad case of the flu, and eventually they are going to get him.

Risa came to visit us again today. She managed to interest him in some biscuits, and later tonight, in fact just a few minutes ago... about a quarter past 11, he ate the dinner of eggs (again) that I had prepared for him hours ago. Risa and I had a talk about Cozie. I repeated what I've been saying for weeks, and in fact months now. I don't know how I am going to live without him. But she stressed to me that it was important that I have a talk with him (I'm absolutely sure that he understands a lot of what I say) and let him know that although I don't know how I'm going to live without him, that when the fight became too much, it was ok to let me know and to let go. And that although I will be devistated by his departure, in the end, we would both be ok.

I had that talk with him just before starting to type this post at midnight. I know that he was listening, and I'm pretty sure that he got the jist of what I was saying. I'm going to have this talk with him frequently for the rest of his life. I'm going to tell him how much I love him, and how much I am going to miss him when he has to go. But that this time was all about him now, and what is best for him. That I would understand when the time came that the body had to stop, and that we both would be ok. And I will keep the edge of hysteria out of my voice as I tell him this.

He is so frail and weak now. I know that the same dog I've known and loved for all these years are inside of that bag of skin and bones, but very little of it can be expressed now. Goodness knows, he tries, but he's just too tired and incapacitated to really be the Cosmos of old. And I know that our time is down to weeks, or maybe even days.

I don't pray... I don't believe in it and I have a lifetime of experience to know that it doesn't work for me. If there is a God, he deserted me many many years ago, and I am on my own. But still, inside my head, I am saying the exact same thing that Claudia said when her Mac was preparing to leave her. And I am saying it each and every day. Just one more day my little one, my baby. Please, just one more day.

Long Memory?

Last year, I talked of killing a lot of Japanese Beetles in a Friday Night Massacre. I was worried because that very same evening, I sustained a bad bug bite. I was not sure if the beetles - the ones that lived - were exacting retribution upon me because of the scores that I had killed, but I wondered.

For the rest of the summer, I did not have much of an issue. I keep bug spray in a location on my kitchen counter where it is easy to reach and for the few that I saw in the following months... well, you could say that they were toast. That's the way I like my roaches. Dead.

Hot weather came early this year, and with it, the beetles have returned. My can of Raid is available at all times, and I've used it. A lot. But I'm starting to wonder what the lifespan of a beetle, exactly, is. I'm starting to wonder also whether they pass stories from one generation to the next. The war between them and me seems to have taken on a new complexity.

Now before you dismiss this notion, you should know the saga of Mom's dogs. She had a pair of Corgis in my youth, and one day they cornered a cat on the porch of a neighbor's house. They never forgot that moment and, for the rest of their doggie lives, checked that porch out each and every time they walked by. Before they left, though, younger generations of dogs joined them and so on and so on and so on. And fifteen years later and many generations of dogs, every one would check that porch just in case a cat might be lurking there.

So a couple of weeks ago, I emerged from the shower and wrapped myself up in a bath towel. (I know it's been a few years since I got on maintenance but the act of fitting a bath towel around my body has not yet grown old.) Anyway, for some reason which I can no longer remember, I decided that I needed to go into the kitchen. There I found a gigantic water beetle on my counter. I quietly edged towards the can of bug spray and picked it up. It moved towards the front of the counter. I prepared the can with my finger on the trigger. It took off and flew towards me. It was clear that it was going to land on my towel!

I shrieked of course. And hit the trigger, catching it in the mist during mid flight. Once it was hit, it dropped to the floor like a stone (thank goodness) and fell into death throes. I was unnerved. It took a while for it to die and I was too afraid to approach it to scoop it up and throw it out. I didn't deal with the carcas until the next morning.

I didn't think about that incident again until this evening. This time, I was in the guest bathroom. I've seen one of the roaches over the past few days peeking out from underneath my bookcase in there. It unnerves me, especially as when I am in the bathroom, I'm generally trapped by virtue of autoimmune disease. But fortunately, I've been able to scare it into running backwards and hiding. We ended up not interacting.

But tonight I was in the bathroom and it came completely out of hiding. I made a big movement - mostly out of fear because I was on the pot - and it ran into the corner. It froze there... probably trying to escape detection. I stared at it until I was able to get up, and following protocol, went to the kitchen to retrieve my can of bug spray. (Note to self: Get another can to keep in bathroom.) Quietly returned to the guest room, walked in, positioned myself, and sprayed.

Direct hit! I was expecting it to do the dance of death immediately but was shocked out of my complacency when it came running at me. I yelled, jumped into the air, and ran towards the door. Do you know it turned around and ran towards me there too?

I turned and sprayed again. Another direct hit. At that, it ran under the bookcase, presumably to die. I hope so.

But now I'm completely unnerved. Have they learned to attack now? Or am I overestimating their abilities to communicate and hold a grudge? Are the two incidents - in a row I might add - coincidence? Or do I have reason to worry?

I don't know. But I think I'm going to sleep with the light on tonight.

Body Worlds

Last Sunday, Eric & I decided to go to the California Science Center in downtown Los Angeles to see the Body Worlds exhibit. For the uninitiated, they display real bodies, and parts thereof, so that the public can learn how they work.



It was a fascinating exhibit. The lines were lengthy, but because of my ongoing intermitant health issues, we were able to bypass them and get right in. It was very crowded; the people were polite and interested. And many of the exhibits were - ahem - life sized.

The displays were startling. They have a process by which they plasticize the parts - and the whole - so that they're perfectly preserved. The Body Worlds link that I've provided has a separate embeded link within it that will explain the process if you are interested. They had whole skeletons with the muscles, tendons, or "whatever" attached. Glass eyes would look upon us as we would stare at them. But the weirdest part was the poses that the bodies were in. Olympic poses. Like they were playing the Olympic games. I'm serious. A Javelin Thrower, a pair of Ice Skaters... and many others.

Eric was a little bit nervous about the exhibit in advance. "I heard that most of the bodies are Chinese." he muttered. But I was not concerned. Nor was I "grossed out". He couldn't claim the same, however. He confided that it made him a bit nauseous, and that he was likely to have nightmares.

I grew up in a physician's home. My father would often initiate blood-and-guts conversation at the dinner table, and it was not unusual that we would have blood draws from various patients with chemicals added percolating in our refrigerator at home next to the food. In fact, I had a conversation with my sister when I was just entering my 40s. I was startled because I had just realized that when people asked me not to discuss certain topics related to the body at the dinner table "because we're eating," that they actually MEANT it. She had not come to the same conclusion yet.

So I was not disturbed at the museum. Rather, I was impressed by the many displays and could hardly get my fill. I was sorry that I was tired towards the end... they were just getting to the part where they were showing the effects of a fatty and poor diet. There was a cross-section, the long way, of a human where you could see at least 3" of fat between the organs/skeleton and the skin, all the way around. There were veins and arteries coated in plaque. I, of course, have a special interest in that given where I come from. But fatigue set in and rather than examining this part in depth, we decided to head on home.


I started asking questions about the bodies later. Did they really all originate in China? And if they did, is there an ethical dilema? Although I was assured by friends that they didn't, I was not reassured.

The bigger question I had, though, who were these people in life. They were posed in olympian stances... were displayed as fit and true. In life, were these people athletes? Were they young? Or were they old and then "lifted" and the poses they are in were the ultimate joke? How, exactly, did these people die?

When you donate your body to science, you take a chance on what happens to it. But if the people knew of their end, would they approve?


I strongly agree, in principle, to the exhibit. Not only do I recommend going to it if you're lucky enough to have one come to your geographical area, but I plan to take Vennie to it when she comes to California later this month.

But I'm still left with the disquieting feeling that everything is not quite right about the origins of the displays. I guess that means that I am not quite as calloused as I formerly thought.