Animal Planet

Man, I must be more fragile than I think this morning. Was watching "Growing Up" gorilla, with two orphaned gorilla babies being raised by human women, and I was absolutely sure that's what I want to do when I retire. It' something that has been on my mind for a long time, and one of the women in the documentary, a previous volunteer at this refuge in Cameroon, flew in from Canada to help out. She was in her 50s, and said she had raised her own kids, but in working with baby gorillas she experienced a lifelong fulfillment, or something like that
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WE INTERRUPT THIS BLOG ENTRY FOR SOME IMPORTANT BREAKING NEWS!
5.30 pm. I got myself to go to a yoga class today! It's offered Tues/Thurs at the Hamden senior center, for free, by Ravindra Vashi. He worked as an engineer for Sikorsky for 23 years, then retired. After doing yoga on his on for a long time, he decided he wanted to share it/teach it "before I go to cremation," he said, so he went to India, got certified, and came back and has been teaching only since April. He's 65, in great shape, and wants to gear the class to us older folks with all the common older folk ailments. He even showed me some knee postures that he said should help a bit. He said one of his wife's allopathic doctors asked him if he would teach her yoga, he did, for no compensation save one: he said to the doctor, Don't give out drugs so quickly to your patients, until they have tried other means of dealing with their conditions. Then he proceded to tell many stories of people who thru yoga and diet have gotten off many of the prescription medications they were on. He was completely accommodating of my bad knees and the postures that I could not do. But I was reminded how good it feels to stretch parts of the body that have not been stretched in a very long time. Yeah me.

WE NOW RETURN TO OUR CURRENT BLOGGING, STILL IN PROGRESS.
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So, the baby gorillas. Doing something with wild animal rescues is definitely in the cards. I even have a contact in Tanzania, Patricia Moehlman, The Jackal Woman, who has been studying jackals forever, and said she could hook me up with a rescue preserve. http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/jackals/woman.html

Then there was a segment about a large elephant that had gotten badly stuck in a mud hole, and the whole village came out to try to free the elephant who had been trapped for three days. It took them all day, much pushing and pulling and ingenuity, and finally she was freed. I almost burst into tears.

I had a PET and CT scan yesterday, a followup of the cancer diagnosis and treatment. That's a stressful thing. First they shoot you up with radioactive isotopes (aren't I glowing brightly enough ALREADY?), make you sit in a dim room doing nothing for an hour, then come and get you and make you lie still on the machine table while the table moves back and forth inside a four foot deep tube that makes all sorts of weird noises. I see the oncologist on Monday for results. I keep wondering what these tests do to one psychically, metabolically. Bleecchh.

First Frost

Good thing I brought in the houseplants from outside last night. Not an easy job. They're all still in the foyer right now, and I have to spray them with horticultural oil to kill any insects that might be on them, wash off the pots, and determine the best windows for the appropriate light for each. Glad I got the windows washed as that will allow more light in, better for the flora.

Love old barn doors. This one was in Cheshire over the weekend.

Beautiful Elvy wrapped in K's shawl at the winery on Friday afternoon. Notice the unusual and lovely pin.

Driving yesterday this car was in front of me. Couldn't help but notice the license plate. I'm not entirely sure, but I think the person/woman driving it was bald, so likely a cancer survivor.

K. and Elvy at the dog park. Elvy is a Parson Jack Russell terrier.

More beautiful dahlias from the community garden. This frost last night probably finished them off.

SocSecBen

Good news. I've been approved for social security disability benefits! So now I can formally retire with full benefits from Jale in December!! And M. has already offered to throw me a combo birthday/retirement party! Then I can get my knees done. Oh, that kind of sucks.

But I'm moving closer to beginning the first day of the rest of my life! And severing my ties with that awful employer.

Leaving soon to go see "W" with friends, then out for Thai food. I hit a few tag sales today and people were so cold outside they were practically giving stuff away. I got $53 worth of stuff for seven bucks. Yesterday I was interviewed for a couple of hours by a woman doing a book on the women's movement in New Haven in the 1970s, then K. and Elvy and Bindi and I went back to Gouveia vineyards and had wine and snacks outside while other customers swooned over our baby girldogs. They are getting along much better after a rocky first meeting. We then went to a new place for pizza near me, which was very good. Whole wheat thin crust with white sauce, onions, peppers, fresh tomato, and garlic. Yum. And the rest of the wine.

Have made plans to have a friend visit whom I haven't seen in 30 years. He left the U.S. then, moved to Ireland, has done dance, art, music, etc., became a citizen there, and is now coming back here for a visit. I'm kind of blown away. Here is his website: http://www.kalichi.com/

I asked my shrink about how having someone around helps me complete tasks, and she said she has heard others with ADD talk about that same thing, so apparently there is a connection.

The Great Schlep

The idea was that young, Jewish Democrats would flood Florida and convince their grandparents that voting for Obama was OK. http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/10/13/great.schlep/?iref=mpstoryview

I love this idea and the grass roots organizing within families and generations, to counter racism and other prejudices. There are an estimated 650,000 Jews living in Florida, and will be a crucial state in the election.

Misty Came Home!

12 noon, October 13. She's fine. She promptly ate a ton of food, then threw it all up as she sometimes does when she eats too fast. That will be one vomit I'll be glad to clean up.

I was distracting myself by deleting stuff I didn't need on my computer. A friend theorized that perhaps she got confused because I painted the front steps. Maybe the smell threw her off. Whatever. She's home!!!

Misty

is missing. Two days. Camilla did this last year for three days. So I'm hoping Mist will be home tomorrow. Fly, GAs, fly.

It's Just and Fair

Although I have not be obsessing about gay marriage like many others have, I am proud that Connecticut has now legalized it. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/11/nyregion/11marriage.html?th&emc=th Now, on to other very important issues for the lgbt communities.

Today K. and I met at the dog park for some Bindi and Elvy bonding. Not so much. But as usual there were many great lookin' dogs around, and Bindi got lots of exercise running with those she deemed to be worthy of her effort. Elvy stayed pretty close to mom.

We went to Starbucks for coffee then back to my house where K. hung out while I put a coat of primer on my bare wood front steps. We had a conversation about why it is that some of us can complete tasks only when someone else is around. K. suggested is might be connected with having ADD, although we are not exactly sure how. If a task is not fully engaging at the outset, some of us can be completely motivated if another person is present, even if they are not helping, which K. did not, except to keep an eye on the dogs. Elvy was playing with some of Bindi's toys and balls, Bindi was on her tie-out line, and Elvy turned into a confident, playful dog. For her, being motivated to be more relaxed and expansive had to do with the alpha dog, Bindi, being tied up, or perhaps Elvy was just distracted by toys that she really really liked. Anyway, it was kind of fascinating all the way around. Tomorrow I will put a coat of paint on the porch and it will be ready for the winter weather.

Yesterday morning my cleaning person came and completed washing the windows in the house. Now they are all clean and sparkling. I'll be putting plastic over some of them because the heating bills were so high last year. Clean washed windows make a significantly nicer difference in how much light comes into the house, and looking outside is clearer and more enjoyable.

I then had lunch with my friend G. at a favorite Turkish restaurant, followed by a visit to the dentist, and then to the bank to put some money into a 4% seven month cd.

Rest in Peace R.J.

Such sad news today. I ran into my neighbor across the street, RJ's dad, RJ the dog that Bindi likes so much. I said, C, how is RJ doing, as the dog was under the weather several days ago. C. said, not good. He's gone. What? He's gone? What happened? I cried in disbelief.

Apparently last weekend RJ's family went away for 2-3 days and left RJ alone in the garage, with his bed and food and water. When they came back on Monday, RJ was listless. They took him to the vet, who thought RJ had hurt his back, prescribed some pain medication, and RJ seemed to be doing better. But he started going downhill fast. After several trips to the vet, it was determined that RJ's back was broken, possibly from jumping up on something in the garage, or perhaps something fell on him. He is/was a small kind of frail, although lively dog. I always thought he was underweight, but C. said they were trying to feed him different food so that he would gain weight, but wasn't. Bindi just loved him.

Turns out RJ's injury paralyzed him, and he was crying out in the night with pain, terribly upsetting C.'s two daughters. The vet said that surgery was possible, although very expensive, and would need a specialist, with no guarantee of success. So they put RJ down yesterday. I burst into tears as C told me the story. I felt like a good friend had suddenly been taken from me and Bindi.

I am trying really hard not to be angry at C. and his family for leaving RJ locked in the garage all weekend. I've seen C's garage and it is filled with all sorts of stuff that could have potentially been harmful to RJ. Of course, fellow dog lovers, most of us would never do such a thing. In fact, when I first found out that C had left RJ alone, I said please let me know when you are going out of town again and I will watch RJ for you. But now it is too late. The puppy was only 3 years old. I am very very sad. C's wife was so upset she had to come home from work today early.

After that news, I drove out to Guilford to take S. and her friend Morgan to see "Beverly Hills Chihuahua," which was very cute, and funny, and I liked it very much. But our fluffy neighbor dog, who looked like a little lamb leaping thru the grass, is gone and our hearts are weeping.

Just Another Sunday

Yesterday at Gouveia Vineyards in Wallingford where a friend and I shared a bottle of local rose. These are the grapes on the vines. Connecticut has nineteen vineyards.

Here's Bindi getting her monthly nail clipping. She's used to these two women, but look at that tucked between her legs tail. It doesn't hurt but she does not like it.

Next to Van Wilgen's Garden Center with this gorgeous display of hybrid pastel pumpkins. Really pretty.

Inside the greenhouse a chamber orchestra was playing slow polkas. How civilized.

Outside, a ginormous scarecrow with a massive bail of rolled up hay as a head. Kind of weird.

Bindiana Bones on the tractor. Hey, I told passersby, she's the only kid I have!

A stunning dahlia flower from my community garden plot. Photo does not do justice.

How To Cure Boredom

Step 1. Get two medium size rocks and a length of 30 lb test fishing line.

Step 2. Tie one rock to each end of the fishing line.

Step 3. Determine a strong branch on a tree in your yard.

Step 4. Throw one end of the fishing line attached to one of the rocks over the pre-determined branch, allowing the other end attached to the other rock to function as a counter weight.

Step 5. Untie the rocks from each end of the fishing line, and tie the two free ends of the fishing line together. Adjust the height so that the item in the next step can easily be hung from the line.

Step 6. Fill the already purchased 1/2 price bird feeder with seed and hang from the dangling line.

Step 7. Admire your handiwork and praise yourself for inheriting such genes of ingenuity.

Step 8. Wait twenty minutes and enjoy the birds feasting from your feeder, the squirrels eating the crumbs falling below, the cat chasing the squirrels, and the dog barking at everything.

Step 9. Notice that you are no longer bored.

Rosh Hashanah

Happy New Year. 5769, according to the Jewish calendar. During Rosh Hashanah, it is traditional to eat apples dipped in honey, to symbolize our hopes for a "sweet" new year. I was in the natural food store getting some things, and saw native McCoun apples, which are my favorite, but I passed them up fearing I could not taste their goodness and delectable flavor. So got Annie's boxed shells and cheese, and ate that for dinner with some steamed broccoli and carrots. Mild flavor, but not offensive, as fruit has been when I've tried to eat it.

Talked to sis on the phone yesterday and today after her surgery. She is pretty out of it, but complained that her med lines shut down today for some reason and it took way too long to get them hooked up again, so she was in considerable pain. I hate that, and feel for her. She said the physical therapist already had her up out of bed today, which freaks me out completely, but I guess that's the protocol. She did say her hospital had soy milk on the menu, unlike the one I was in. I guess they're hipper in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. Anyway, I wish I was with her. But her hubby is there and I know he will take good care of her.

Mutt Strutt was kind of lame, cause it was so wet and kind of drizzly. But we went for an hour, and did the Parade of Rescues, and Bindi had her photo taken a couple of times by people who thought she was just the cutest. We got doggie/human free five minute massages, which was nice. I held still more than my doggie.

Ok, so I'm worried about my 401K and stuff. Have an appt. with the TIAA-CREF people next month to get some advice.

Mosquitos have been nastily abundant with all the rain. Did you ever try Buzz Off? Works pretty well, and all natural, or so it says.

Bindi's pal R.J. across the street has been feeling poorly. We hope he recovers soon.

I bore myself with my blog.

Letter to the World

That's what blogs are, right?

Had what for me was a very interesting follow-up appointment with Dr. Kerr, the naturopath who prescribed the homeopathic remedy that I took about a month ago. We talked about the changes that may have taken place, but the most fascinating thing she told me what the theory that electromagnetic fields, the geologic rock foundations, and the ions in a particular region are thought to work against some people's chemical and vibrational makeup. I just looked at her as if I had been given a piece of the puzzle long overdue, and this information resonated with me profoundly. It felt RIGHT. Whether you believe in these "alternative," or merely under researched, theories, I found this notion affirming to the max, and remembered my visit to Florida in March and how happy I was for those two weeks. And how a therapist told me long ago that I belonged in California because it fit who I am better. The coasts. The oceans. The salt water. The sun.

Visited a colleague and her family yesterday afternoon, with the Bindster. The kids are about ten I guess, twins, the girl totally into Bindi, the boy playing on the computer. They had the healthiest tomato plants in their garden that I've seen anywhere this summer, certainly better than anything at the community garden. Unfortunately, it's been a cold wet summer for tomatoes, so some are just ripening now as we move into fall, but still, it's such a pleasure to see a gardener do so well.

Mutt Strutt will likely be postponed from tomorrow till Sunday, if it stops raining. We're supposed to get like four days in a row of rain. Mutt Strutt is the fundraising event for the shelter where I got Bindi, and it's totally fun and dog-centered. And outside. We went once before and it was great fun, but I remember it being hot and my having a bit of a meltdown. (Well, I was gonna include a link, but can't figure out how to do it.)

Had dinner with M & S on Tuesday, and M told me about two more people in our circle who have come down with cancer. One with spinal cancer and the other breast cancer. Both people about my age. We will no longer be surprised when we hear this news about anyone else.

Watched "Charlie Wilson's War" on dvd last night. It was ok. Maybe I was too tired to really appreciate it or maybe it just wasn't that stellar. I did like Julia Roberts playing against type. I like her more the older she gets.

Scored nicely at a consignment shop earlier in the week on some clothes that fit me better, including a couple of designer labels.

It's time to spray the outside plants that need to come in for the winter with insecticide, as the nights are just starting to flirt with the 40s, temperature wise. I'm cutting back on the plants I'm bringing in, as I was overwhelmed last year. I'll just keep my most special ones.

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I liked this post from today's New York Times:





September 25, 2008, 9:12 pm
The Cross-Cultural Classroom
By Christina Shunnarah

In my previous post, “Student in a Strange Land,” I mentioned briefly that our school, the International Community School (I.C.S.), works with a very diverse population of students and families. I.C.S. represents over 40 different countries and 50 languages. One of the communities we serve is Clarkston, Ga., which is home to about 26,000 refugees. It is often said that Clarkston is one of the most diverse square miles in the United States. A community as diverse as this presents a complex challenge: In a place with so many different values and belief systems, what role should an educator play?

It is important for me as an educator to have a cultural awareness of the students’ lives and backgrounds. Without this awareness, my sensitivity and compassion for each child would not be able to develop. My studies in anthropology have helped me view life through a cultural lens. But what is culture?

I often think of culture in terms of the “iceberg concept” commonly used in educational studies, with its small visible tip and huge mass below the surface. Most people tend to view only the surface aspects of culture — observable behavior — sometimes known as the five F’s: food, fashion, festivals, folklore, and flags. But of course culture goes deeper than that. It is the other 95 percent below the surface of which we need to be aware.

Deep culture (below the surface) includes elements such as child-raising beliefs, concepts of self, beauty and personal space, religious rituals and perspectives, eating habits, facial expressions, eye contact, work ethic, approaches to problem solving and interpersonal relationships, moral values, cosmology, world views and personal discipline — to name (more than) a few.

The children that come into my classroom each year have such a variety of life paths. Looking at their cultural backgrounds with the “iceberg concept” in mind has helped to keep me aware of the aspects of their lives that are not in plain view. And the more I work with the students at I.C.S., the more my awareness of these subtle realms increase.

Developing cultural competence is a process of inner growth. In order for me to be as effective as possible with the students I work with, I must continuously engage in a process of self-reflection. To be able to know others, especially diverse others, one must know the self. So the growth of a culturally competent educator starts there. We must look within for a deeper understanding of who we are before we can adequately address the needs of our students.
This investigation should include our core beliefs, hidden biases and our religious perspectives. Developing cultural competence is also a process that comes with experience and engagement, and with sometimes painful lessons that highlight our limitations and prejudices. To learn about the backgrounds of the students in my class takes time and effort; it involves reading about their countries of origin, visiting their homes and meeting family members, connecting with parents, developing relationships with community members and organizations, and going to cultural and religious festivals. By learning about my students’ lives outside the classroom, I am more prepared to work with them in the classroom.

Schools don’t exist in vacuums; they are situated within communities. Community involvement helps me understand the socio-cultural backgrounds of my students’ lives and build bridges between the home and school. This exposure helps challenge my own perspectives and biases.

An example that comes up quite frequently is the issue of religion. Children at I.C.S. come from a myriad of religious traditions, including Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and Hinduism, and the Baha’i faith. Children are usually very open to discussing their beliefs, prayers, places of worship, dances and values with their friends. They excitedly exclaim that “God lives in the sky” or “God lives in us” or “Allah lives on a cloud near the moon.” Their discussions about their religious beliefs are usually cheerful, lighthearted and innocent.
But sometimes these kindergarteners get into heated debates. I usually remain in the background and allow them to express their opinions in a safe place. One day, during one of these debates, I was caught off guard. I was moving around the classroom checking students’ writing when a question popped up out of nowhere. One of my American students, David, called out, “Ms. Shunnarah, can an elephant be a god?”

I froze. This was one of those moments when the cultural iceberg was tapped, challenging my Judeo-Christian upbringing. I remembered from my studies of Hinduism in college that there is a religious entity known as Ganesh, who takes the form of an elephant. Ganesh is one of the most worshipped deities in the Hindu pantheon. His image is found throughout India. He is widely known as the “remover of obstacles” and “lord of beginnings” and is associated with creativity, the arts and sciences, intellect and wisdom.

This information about Ganesh came to me quickly and I am glad that it did, because I could have carelessly dismissed David’s comment as silly. Instead, I told him yes, and described Ganesh and his place in the Hindu religion. After I said this, I noticed that one of my students from India, Abhra, pulled out his own drawings of Ganesh from his backpack. He had been discussing his beliefs with David, when David had called out the question. This small bit of knowledge I had retained turned out to be important. After my response, Abhra smiled; his religious beliefs and identity were acknowledged. This is just a small example of the kind of cross-cultural interaction that goes on every day in our class.
Later Abhra’s mother came to me and said that I had made her son happy because I knew about Ganesh. What would have been the unintended consequence if I were not aware of Ganesh? What if I had responded from my own personal biases and religious perspective? What would have been the outcome for my student Abhra? Would he have been ashamed? Would he have kept his pictures hidden, damaging his sense of self?

This journey of establishing a multicultural learning community in my classroom with a foundation of respect for all cultures is ever changing and evolving. Children bring to the classroom rich cultural life experiences, so why not tap into it? This involves a continuous process of research about the lives of the children in my classroom, as well as of my own interpretations and perspectives. The varied nuances of culture are complex and continually changing, but it makes our classroom a natural place to learn.

Early Fall

A nice day at the community garden picking veggies, herbs, and flowers for the Sunday in the Park fair tomorrow. Weather is supposed to be cooperative. I've got my eye on a "squirrel proof" thistle seed bird feeder waiting to be bought at the White Elephant Sale in the Carriage House. Will get there early in hopes I can grab it for a song, bird song preferably.

Camilla had her expensive thyroid test and is indeed hyperthyroid, as was suspected by her symptoms. Another pill every day, or the one time, very expensive, radioative seed implant that I had done to one of my deceased cats, Maisie, when she got the same thing. The pills costs about $20/month, which is $240 a year, and the radioactive implant is about $1000, so if the kitty lives another five years, and I see no reason why she shouldn't (she's only about 12) it comes out to be about the same, without the hassle of giving a pill every day.

Had a long talk with sis last night, who will have double knee replacement in about a week. She gave me all the gory details, which are not pretty, but I need to know them since I am next on the list. Saw a knee doctor last week who said he would do my knees early next year, which is good, although I won't use him. I'm going to someone more experienced. Also saw the social security doctor on Thursday. A cursory physical exam, more questions asked of the type I have answered at least four times before in this process, and I think he was slightly encouraging, although I really couldn't tell. But glad to get that over with.

Funny aside: sis likes all things squirrel, and is taking one of her faves to the hospital with her. She said her husband was in the basement making a hanger wire walker for her squirrel! Cause she has to use a walker when her knees are healing , get it? Precious.

Almost two weeks since the last radiation treatment. Mouth is still breaking out inside with small fluid filled blisters, and my tastebuds are still gone. But I feel better overall.

Got a card from Yas in Australia, with a photo of the Tasmanian Devil on the front, and information about how an infectious facial cancer is wiping the animals out. They are highly endangered at this point, with little known about this strange cancer. Web photos of the cancer are very sad to see, so I've included a photo of some young healthy ones. Why is there so much cancer?

S. in Naples sent me a 30% off coupon for Ralph Lauren stores thru October 6. He is working for them now, and he said he read my blog entry where I talked about my clothes not fitting, and thought he'd help me out. How sweet is that?

My friend B. from Northampton stayed over on Wednesday night, which was really pleasant. We played Scrabble, helping one another and not keeping score, which is quite civilized.

After some internet research, bought at Agway a combination peppermint/spearmint concoction which is supposed to repel mice. We'll see. The landlord is going to put d-con in the attic and cellar. In the meantime, felines do your thing.

Structure

Uh oh. The radiation treatments are over, thankfully, but now my daily structure is gone. I still have clients that I am seeing, and the usual weekly doctors' appointments, but that daily appointment at the same time with the cancer family at the cancer center has been kind of a grounding focus for me for the past two months, and I'm feeling a bit at loose ends. I need to find a gym, so perhaps I'll go visit the ones closest to me and check them out. I need to go thru my three filing cabinets filled with tons of useless paper I have been collecting for the past 40 years, but that's hard to do alone. I'm not done with the social security process yet, have to see their doc this week, and that's hanging over my head. I'm pretty sure I will be approved, but who knows. My appt. with the new knee doc isn't till the beginning of November, so I don't know what's up with possible surgery. I will be looking into some volunteer work and some classes of some sort, but I have to be careful not to overwhelm myself. Just take it one day at a time, and do what I can. I'm not a morning person, I get up around 9 or so usually, and it takes me a while to feel awake. I have to learn to tolerate the CPAP machine to see if that will help my energy, but I DON'T WANT TO. Today I just want to sit out in the sun and wind with the doggie-do, and maybe go to Agway and get more dog food. No, I WILL go to Agway to get more dog food, because I need it, and Bindi needs it.

I had a busy weekend. Thursday, I met an old friend, KH, for dinner at 116 to celebrate the end of my radiation treatments. I knew her decades ago, but we had fallen out of touch, till I reached out to her recently, for which she was supremely receptive. She has a little girl dog named Elvy. Friday M & S came over for dinner. I made S's faves: cauliflower, potatoes, and chicken tenders. M loved my Waldorf salad, the one my mom used to make, except I use yogurt instead of mayonnaise, and currants instead of raisins. Saturday I had dinner with my friend Peter, here from London for an academic thingie, and we had such a good time. What a stellar human. Sunday I went to my favorite bakery and hung out with the regulars and drank coffee (which still doesn't taste right to me) and ate a blueberry danish (also tasted weird) and read the New York Times. Then over to KH's for a visit, the first get together for Elvy and Bindi. We had them both on leashes but when they got close enough to one another, a fracas ensued, the leashes got entangled, lots of barking growling jumping till we separated them. By the end of the visit, things were better. Elvy was cautious, Bindi just wanted to play with her, so perhaps in time they will become more friendly. After all, my backdoor neighbors were so sure their dog would not take to Bindi, and after several gentle attempts at visiting Pudge, they can now hang out quite civilly with one another. It's Little Dude, the black and white cat, who patrols the territory and keeps Bindi in line.

Well, my last poo blog entry sure brought out the comments! I guess it's one of the universals that everyone can relate to, and esp. more if you have cats/dogs other pets and/or human babies, or a system of elimination yourself! Ha ha!

Watched Helen Mirren in "Elizabeth I," which I liked very much. She's an extraordinary actor.

Also, check out Cate Blanchett in "Elizabeth: The Golden Years." The costumes alone are worth the view.

My trip to California is all planned and booked, and I have accommodations for Bindi with my dog trainer while I'm away. I'm looking forward to the trip.

Mouse Poo

Mouse poo? Mouse poo?!?!?! Mouse friggin' poo on my computer table!! No no no, no more poo, I am pooed out!!! I will not allow any more poo any other place than where it is supposed to be. I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!! I can't take one more turd from a non human creature crapping up my space. That's it!! I'm getting corks for all the poo orifices of any animal entering my domain. DOGS/CATS/MICE BE WARNED! This is not a joke! You think I'm kidding? You think I'm kidding? Just wait, just you wait. Just try me. I can find mouse sized orifice corks. I CAN FIND ANYTHING ON THE INTERNET!! And don't give me that lame excuse that you can't read. You better bloody well learn to read asap, cause this is your first and only warning. Ask my friends -- you don't wanna mess with me.

And I just got back from the vet with a bill for $407 for Camilla, the supreme poop queen of the castle. And she might have some kind of thyroid problem. She's losing weight, she is scratching her face, and the vet thought he felt a nodule on her thyroid gland, and an arhythmia in her heartbeat. I like this vet a lot but $407? That's just nuts!

Good news: yesterday was my last radiation treatment.

My Boring So-Called Life

I'll try to keep the cynicism at a minimum. Slept not too badly last night after massive amounts of drugs consumed. Accidently took twice the amount of Atavan before yesterday's radiation treatment, because the day before I went there, got strapped down, and then the table wouldn't work so they sent me home. And the day before that I forgot the Atavan and freaked when they locked my head down in the mask, immediately couldn't breathe and felt trapped, and had to tell them to take it off. One of the staff bent over the table, took my hand, and kissed me repeatedly on the cheek telling me how brave I was as I was crying. Brave? Huh. So then saw the shrink of Thursday, who adjusted again the med levels, and my mouth was hurting last night so I took some tylenol with codeine, and the chemical soup lulled me into settled rest. That is, until around 6.30 am, I awoke to the smell of cat poop, and realized Camilla had taken a huge dump on the bed and the surrounding floor. I got up, stripped everything off the bed, remade it, and went back to sleep. We're going back to the vet on Wednesday for blood work; she's got to be picking up my anxiety and distress; how could she not? And if I forget for one day to give her the xanax she's on, she won't use the litter box to poo. It's like a friggin' pharmacy around here; I need a personal assistant just to help me remember to take what when, and for whom!

Social security now wants me to go get a physical with one of their docs. I guess after all the reports they've requested from my doctors, and my own statement, and the fact that I've been approved by the university's long term disability insurance company, they still don't believe me. So that's on the 18th. Still dragging this process out interminably.

Had dinner with C & D last night at a casual Italian place near us, where none of us had been before. It was decent, and inexpensive. They gave a complimentary glass of wine, and man, was it bad! I could sort of taste my dinner, but only half way. Did some shopping at Target afterwards. All of my clothes are too big, so I needed some new things. Am trying to only buy inexpensive/on sale clothes, since I might gain the weight back, but hope not. I really really hate these ruffled, shirred, gathered styles they have for women's tops these days. What are we, baby dolls?!?! Please. Let's get back to some elegant, well cut, flattering styles. Oh. That's the expensive stuff. Sorry. Forgot.

It's wet and muggy here today, August weather, although it's now well into September. Think I'll take Bindi to the dog park and we'll get our paws muddy. It's already three in the afternoon, since I just got up a couple of hours ago. But I managed to do a load of laundry, take a shower, and feed the animals. Don't you think that's enough work for one day?

Am trying to plan a trip to Oakland/Berkeley for Thanksgiving. Need to find someone to care for Bindi while I'm gone. My usual person will have her twins by then, so she won't be available. I hate to leave Bindi behind, but it is such a long trip, and both places I will be staying would prefer she not come. That'll just mean I'll make my trip shorter, which is probably ok. I can't remember the last time I was in California. Maybe 10 years ago? Friends are already lobbying me to move there.

At the Zoo

Last Wednesday I hung out with a friend's ten year old son, and I took us both to the Beardsley Zoo. It's a small place, but well kept, and although some of the enclosures for the animals aren't as large as I would like them to be, the animals seem well cared for. We saw wolves, prairie dogs, bison, a condor, river otters, Andean bears, tigers, lynx, peacocks and other birds. I loved seeing the critters, and N. kept saying, "This is a fun day." We had zoo junk food, and rode the carousel together, and cruised the gift shop. It was perfect early fall weather (even though it's still August!).

Thursday I took my car in to have the few scratches on the bumper repaired after I rear ended that Lexus. The auto body shop was fairly close by, and it was the nicest place of its kind I'd ever been in. A "concierge" auto body shop. There were reps from Geico (mine) and Travelers insurance right there, a rental car waiting, and unbelievably gracious service. Kind of amazing. Got the car yesterday afternoon, and they had washed the car on top of it. Even got a call from Enterprise asking if the rental car was ok (a 2009 Malibu; talk about bad visibility!).

Was watching "The Grizzly Man Diaries" on Animal Planet last night, you know, that nutcase Timothy Treadwell. I was completely captivated. Before he and his girlfriend were eaten by the bears a few years ago, Treadwell had compiled tons of film footage and still photography that is astonishing and compelling. Although widely criticized for his methods (as was Steve Irwin and others), I was amazed at his apparent communication with the bears, and the information he uncovered during his years in Alaska.

Saw the Robs for a bit today. Cooked them some squash from my garden, with mushrooms, garlic, and tomatoes. They were pleased. Going to the beach tomorrow with a few folks. The water in Long Island Sound never got warm enough for me this year; I miss the ocean from my trip to Naples in March. Perfect temp.

Saw my primary care doc this week, and all my lab numbers were "beautiful," thanks to this cancer "diet." Blood sugar levels way down, since I'm not eating sugar, since I CAN'T TASTE IT! Have lost twenty pounds since May. Cholesterol is good. I remember my friend D. saying, when his mother had cancer and lost weight, that he and his brother wanted to get her a t-shirt for laughs that said, "Cancer is slimming." They didn't. Good move.

Major Downer

Thought today was gonna be my last day of radiation treatment. I brought flowers for every one, one of the volunteers gave me a "hug" shawl which they give to people on their last day of treatment. Then I go into the treatment room and say to Tom, "It's my last day!" He says, "No, it's not." "Yeah," I said, "that's what the doctor said last week." He said, "Seriously, she wants to do more." I burst into tears, and when I talked with the doctor later, she said indeed, she wanted five more treatments on just my tongue. Since the clear margins from the surgery tumors were so narrow, she would feel better giving me this boost, but was willing to let me heal some this week, and start those five next Tuesday. I am extremely disappointed, not to mention in pain, so I got some Tylenol with codeine liquid from her, went to see my therapist, went back to pick up my cane at the natural foods store where I had left it earlier, then filled the script, and am now home. My voice mail had a message from Geico about the car accident so I had to call them and deal with that. I'm not a happy camper.

Bam!

So Bindi and I were over at K.'s for a playdate with Momo, and on the way home I decided to take the turnpike. As I pulled onto the entrance ramp, I saw that there was intense traffic, and cars coming from the other entry to the entrance ramp were back to back trying to get into the flow of traffic. I waited quite a while until I could find a gap in the long line of cars and stepped on the gas. Bang! I hit the car in front of me. And it wasn't an old Nissan or even a newish Ford. IT WAS A LEXUS! Aaarrgghhh. They pulled over, I pulled over, I got out, apologized profusely, and saw that there appeared to be minor damage to the bumper of their car. I said to the guy, "What do you need from me?" He said, "I need to have this paid for." His girlfriend was already calling the police, even tho, really, there was minor damage. My new front bumper was scraped as well. In those kind of situations you don't want the bangee to get too annoyed, so I said, let me go to my car and get my insurance, registration, etc. He said ok, and we proceeded to wait for a cop. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. I was still in my car, and the guy and his girlfriend came over, and we began to make smalltalk. They were pretty cool about it all cause I was being so cooperative and submissive, and we traded addresses, phone numbers, insurance info. Turns out his last name was Arcangel. Huh. Ok, GAs, watching out for me again. We waited some more, talked about dogs and cars and geography, and they decided to call their insurance company to see if a police report was really needed. The company said no. So we both decided to go on our ways, and just then a state trooper pulls up, so he told us to pull off at the next exit to take care of this. Probably 45 minutes had gone by so far. He took the report, asked me if I knew it was my fault cause it was a rearend bang, I said yes. Then he gave me a verbal warning for following too close, and didn't even notice that the address on my license was WAY out of date. More cordial chit chat with the bangees, and then we were off. I haven't had an accident in probably 20 years, but I drive a car less than a month old, and this happens. Oh well. It could have been much much worse. Arcangel. Go figure.

Two More Days

Monday is my last radiation treatment. That's a good thing, but healing from this barbaric treatment will take a while. My mouth/tongue are very sore, and I can't taste anything at all. Muchly fatigued. Mouth should get better in 1-2 weeks, tastebuds back not for three months. Another fresh hell. I'll miss peach season and most of apple season.

Have been doing lots of weeding in my community garden after the weeks of rain. I've got a volunteer patty pan squash that is just starting to put out fruit. My big beigy apricoty dahlias are blooming, really impressive. Still waiting for the tuberose to send up flowers. Bought myself a glass gazing globe on sale today, to put atop my Three Graces garden sculpture which now has a bowl of petunias resting on their heads. They need something for the winter. My canna are very dramatic in my hosue garden, so tall with big leaves and then the red flower flame.

Last Sunday I visited some university colleagues and their kids and dogs. That was a lot of fun, esp. the kids and dogs. Gaia, a big black lab, and Henry, a small black and white Boston terrier, three little girls and a boy, and my friend J. who is pregnant with twin girls. A. told me that women's studies has never been so disorganized and she doesn't even understand why it is still being funded. Well, that's what they get for pushing me out.

P. from London is visiting in September, but not staying with me. It will be good to see him, albeit briefly.

TMI

Photo of niece R. and my old car.

Went to the cancer support group again last night. I asked the group if those who have/have had oral cancers had found ways to deal with the dry mouth, the deteriorated tastebuds, the sore throat from the radiation treatments. A couple of people went off about losing their teeth because of the effects of the radiation, how it messes up the gums, and weakens the jaw bone. I freaked out. My oncologist never told me this. Of course I cried. Everything makes me cry. Afterwards the PA who was one of the facilitators took me aside and said that losing teeth is not the case for everyone, and that one person's cancer/treatment is very unique to everyone elses. She tried to assure me that this probably wouldn't happen to me. Still. I've been twice to the group, and the first time made me feel awful finding out that cancer is a "chronic illness," and that I will not in fact be "cured." I told this to one of the radiologists this morning, and she said, don't go back to the group. You don't need to get that kind of information that makes you feel so awful. I think I will take her advice. It's true, many of the people in the group have "worse" cancers than I, but I feel like I'm getting way more information than I can handle right now.

I was newly angered that I never heard from the Yale cancer docs whom I went to for a second opinion. They never got back to me. So I came home last night and wrote an email to the directors of the Yale cancer center with my complaint, and sure enough, I got a call from both those docs this evening. Head of the medical oncology unit, and the head of the ENT department. The former apologized (one tiny point for him), and the latter said that they might not have done surgery, but might have done "seed" placement of radiation, followed by the conventional radiation treatments. I was glad they got back to me, but why oh why do I have to get all worked up and write forceful emails before I get a response from the various bureaucracies I am dealing with? Lesson to all reading this: do not hesitate to track down the people who are supposed to be responding to you, but don't, and let them have it. The squeaky wheel gets the grease is a cliche for a reason.

I also called my dentist who, when I told him I had tongue cancer, said, "Oy." Again, I apparently was supposed to have had a check up with him before the radiation treatments began, but my oncologist didn't tell me that either. I need to know why she was not concerned about my teeth, but she is away this week.

I scored a couple of nice things in bulk trash today. The best is a retro turquoise hutch that, with the help of two guys hanging about on the street whom I paid, got the heavy piece into my Forester. I now have some new scratches in the cargo area of the car, but oh well. Has to be initiated sometime.

Got snail mail from MP in Romania today!! Made me happy to hear from her that way.

Gas prices are down to $3.89, which is good. Just confirms that gas prices are completely manipulated.

Pool and Homeopathy

Saturday I went to a pool party (in-ground, not sticks), and had the best time playing beachball in the water with four other women. We drew quite the crowd, and I had fun! I had fun! It was kind of like volleyball without the net. Was even able to eat some of the food at the potluck, but my tastebuds for sweets are pretty much gone now. Just today I learned that it can take several MONTHS for the tastebuds to regenerate themselves, which is not good news. It's hard to have an appetite when I can't taste much of anything.

Had a long interview with a colleague of my naturopath, a "constitutional homeopathy" assessment. I told my life story and she asked specific questions about feelings, dreams, etc. in order to choose the right homeopathic remedy for me. Will pick it up on Wednesday. If it works, it should help shift my mood to something more positive.

Weather still unseasonably cool, with quite a bit of rain, but I'm not complaining. August is usually stifling hot and humid here, so this climate change, while disturbing in the big picture, on the microlevel is welcome.

Took a very long nap today. Radiation nap. I let the dog in the bed for a while.
My dear friend JK will be in town tomorrow with his partner, and I'll meet them out at the Robs. That should be very good, although a very short visit. I miss him.

Trouble

TROUBLE

Marilyn Monroe took all her sleeping pills
to bed when she was thirty-six, and Marlon Brando’s daughter
hung in the Tahitian bedroom
of her mother’s house,
while Stanley Adams shot himself in the head. Sometimes
you can look at the clouds or the trees
and they look nothing like clouds or trees or the sky or the ground.
The performance artist Kathy Change
set herself on fire while Bing Crosby’s sons shot themselves
out of the music industry forever.
I sometimes wonder about the inner lives of polar bears. The French
philosopher Gilles Deleuze jumped
from an apartment window into the world
and then out of it. Peg Entwistle, an actress with no lead
roles, leaped off the “H” in the HOLLYWOOD sign
when everything looked black and white
and David O. Selznick was king, circa 1932. Ernest Hemingway
put a shotgun to his head in Ketchum, Idaho
while his granddaughter, a model and actress, climbed the family tree
and overdosed on phenobarbital. My brother opened
thirteen fentanyl patches and stuck them on his body
until it wasn’t his body anymore. I like
the way geese sound above the river. I like
the little soaps you find in hotel bathrooms because they’re beautiful.


Sarah Kane hanged herself, Harold Pinter
brought her roses when she was still alive,
and Louis Lingg, the German anarchist, lit a cap of dynamite
in his own mouth
though it took six hours for him
to die, 1887. Ludwig II of Bavaria drowned
and so did Hart Crane, John Berryman, and Virginia Woolf. If you are
travelling, you should always bring a book to read, especially
on a train. Andrew Martinez, the nude activist, died
in prison, naked, a bag
around his head, while in 1815 the Polish aristocrat and writer
Jan Potocki shot himself with a silver bullet.
Sara Teasdale swallowed a bottle of blues
after drawing a hot bath,
in which dozens of Roman senators opened their veins beneath the water.
Larry Walters became famous
for flying in a Sears patio chair and forty-five helium-filled
weather balloons. He reached an altitude of 16,000 feet
and then he landed. He was a man who flew.
He shot himself in the heart. In the morning I get out of bed, I brush
my teeth, I wash my face, I get dressed in the clothes I like best.
I want to be good to myself.



by Matthew Dickman
August 11, 2008
The New Yorker
***********************

Don't be concerned, friends and family, I'm not suicidal. I just read this poem yesterday and found it moving and hopeful. I went to a cancer support group on Wednesday night, and found it interesting and calming to be in a room of people who "get it." There were several people there who are caregivers for people with cancer, though they don't have cancer themselves. One notion that disturbed me was this: I asked the group if after my treatment, which I was told would be a "cure," I could forget about the cancer. They all said no. Cancer is now seen as a chronic illness, and the shadow is always there once you have it. Which is not to say it isn't important to be positive and that the cancer may neve come back, but they referred to cancer as a/your shadow that is always in the background, which sometimes comes back into the foreground.

My shrink upped my meds again. What a chemical soup I am.

Photo of my tulips from the spring.

Gee, What Do You Do With Your Time?

Went to bed last night around 10. Woke up around 1.30am and was up till about 4. Got up at 8.00am, showered, let the dog out, fed the cats. Went to the bank, then to radiation treatment. Talked with the oncologist, then the social worker, who said I should call the American Cancer Society to get hooked up with a "mentor," a cancer survivor who has had the same type of cancer I have. Then went to see my counselor, who massaged my feet while we talked. So depressed, so isolated, so desolate. Then went to the natural foods store to get a smoothie. Their blender was still broken, and hadn't been sent out yet to be fixed. I said, "Go out to Target and spent $39 on a backup emergency blender. Tell the boss a customer said to do that." How hard is it to get a working blender?!?!?!?! So I bought some gazpacho, which I didn't want, but was something I could get down. Went to K's, we shared the gazpacho, and then I said I had to lay down. Momo came up on the sofa with me and we napped for a while, and K went outside to the porch and nap. Then I went to the naturopath, and we talked about treatments for the radiation symptoms. I met her new colleague who will work with me on homeopathic remedies for my unrelenting depression. I told her, no one but my counselor gets the full impact of everything I am dealing with, so if I work with you, don't ask me how I am doing. Assume I am not doing well until you hear otherwise. Stopped for ice cream, and bought some mushy things at the supermarket to eat. Bought lemon ice, but my taste buds are so compromised, it tasted awful. Came home, walked the dog, fed the cats, watched an episode of "House," ate some chicken with rice soup, blogged this. Now to bed to get up and do most of it all again.

Monday Monday

Camilla wanted to go outside this morning, but wanted back inside after 5 minutes. I think she doesn't like the smell of Little Dude, the black and white cat who lives behind me, as he comes around the house often. She pooed under the bed; I guess she needs the full pill of xanax, not a half as I have been giving her. Poor thing. We're both nervous wrecks.

Went to bed at 7.45 last night. The radiation and depression are taking their toll. Woke up at 1.30am, got up, made some pasta which was really hard to eat but I did it anyway, and now have an unsettled stomach this morning from that middle of the night binge. My mouth hurts. While I was up, I watched most of a movie on tv called "The Boys of Brazil," with Gregory Peck, Laurence Olivier, James Mason and others. I'd never heard of it. Made in the 70s I think. Peck's character, Josef Mengele, had devised a way of cloning the saved body tissues of Adolf Hitler. He had set up an elaborate system whereby he placed these clones with couples that were similar in age and circumstance to Hitler's own parents. Olivier plays a Jew trying to track down Mengele. It was completely creepy, but so well acted. Shout out to niece E: I think you would like this one. Actually, maybe watching that movie is why I feel slightly ill this morning. It had a fight scene between Olivier and Peck and four dobermans that was positively sickening. No wonder it was on at 1.30 in the morning.

Yesterday's weather was autumn-like. Warm in the sun, cool and breezy later in the day, no humidity. I took Bindiana Bones to have her nails clipped, then we went to my favorite hardware store in Guilford. Got scotchguard for the car (instead of buying their $400 interior protection package), walked on the green a bit, and met a sweet family with their kangal puppy. Don't think I had ever met that breed before (see photo). Tried to call all my friends in the area for a visit, but none was available. Bought myself a chocolate milkshake, but only drank half of it. All I can really tolerate is applesauce and yogurt.

Got an email from an old boyfriend of mine from the 70s who said he was going thru some old papers and found a couple of poems he had written then, and that he wanted to send them to me. I said sure. Wonder.

Saturday I took Bindiana to the dog park for the monthly chihuahua meetup gathering. It was kind of fun, but that group of people is so reserved. If I didn't talk to any of them, I don't think any of them would talk to me. There were a couple of new people with little chi's, and I tried to make them feel welcome. I had met K. there with Momo, and it seemed they absolutely ignored her and her beagle. She took Momo off to play with the bigger dogs. That's what I mean about the northeast. People are so reserved and closed it hurts, esp. when you are a person who likes some lively social interaction like I do at times. Since I don't go to an office anymore and am not on a campus where there is a context for relating to people, I am much more accutely aware of this phenomenon, and I DO NOT LIKE IT!
I miss the illusion of family I had working on the university corridor, but alas, it was only an illusion. Only a couple of people from there seem to give a crap about how I am doing. Perhaps not so different from many blood families . . .

K. and I left and took the dogs to the Redwood flea market not too far from my house. Even the people there, when I would say hello, would pretty much ignore me. Something is terribly terribly wrong. I said in a loud voice to K, "What is the matter with these people?! I can't wait to get out of the northeast!" She gets it.
I bought three cotton bandanas for a buck each. We then went our separate ways home, and I went out for lemon ice. That I could tolerate eating, and I sat with three young people on a bench and listened to their funny conversation. Younger people around here don't seem as jaded and conditioned to containment as the middle aged. The elderly are more open, too.

Friday night I met C. and D. at 116 to celebrate our new cars. They got a Saturn Astra, which was nice and fuel efficient, but so small. I do like the roominess of my Forester, esp. since I've been having such claustrophobia with all these medical procedures. They were complaining too, again, about how hard it is to find community. I do keep going on and on about this, don't I? While there, I met Addie, the owners' new doggie-do. She's a seven month old pit mix, possibly with some golden lab. Sweet sweet sweet and so pretty, with a good temperament. J. found her on PetFinders.com, where she was set to be euthanized. She came from some other state, and he saved her. I'm sure she knows that. Was watching on Animal Planet yesterday the special called Jane Goodall: When Animals Talk, which is extraordinarily fascinating. We are only at the tip of the iceberg concerning animal communication but what has been discovered so far is delicious.

Serendipity

Sort of. Old car wouldn't start this morning, but finally did. Then as I was driving to radiation treatment, an exhaust pipe let loose and huge loud obnoxious muffler noises began emanating from underneath. Decided I would try to pick up the new car today instead of tomorrow. Called them. The side moulding had come in earlier than expected so sure, come on down. (Side moulding is no longer standard but an option!) After radiation treatment, I met K. at my former office to get stuff off the computer there, and to retrieve more of my books. The HR person who was also meeting us said she had good news: my long term disability benefits have been approved. Glory be. But not until I had written the union rep, a benefits rep, and this HR person earlier in the week saying WHEN WILL THERE BE A DECISION?? I AM DESOLATE!! And calling the insurance company making the decision. They had sent me a "customer service survey" even before the decision had been made, so I called the person at the bottom of that insulting piece of mail and said WHEN WILL THERE BE A DECISION?? I AM DESOLATE!! And it was true. So, the squeaky wheel. I cried all the time I was in my former office gathering up my things; this is not how I wanted to leave the job. The HR person had done a good job making sure no one else would be around, for which I was thankful. K. was right on top of the details, and was a tremendous help. My great IT guy was there, and just whisked all my documents onto the flash drive; I will miss him. We schlepped all the stuff to my old car, K. said she wanted to go with me to pick up the new car, so we made a plan. I stopped at the bank, got a cashiers' check, ran home, let the dog out, cleaned out all the crap from my Corolla, met K. at her house and went and picked up the Forester. She liked it a lot, which helped me like it more and feel a bit more excited. I was gonna give my Corolla to a teenage friend, but her parents decided against her having it cause it would cost them more for the insurance and upkeep. so I traded it in, and my cost for the Forester was less than I originally was expecting to pay. I feel lighter now that the LTD is approved, but now HR is saying that I have to be approved for Social Security disability TOO in order to retire at the end of this year. That was never my understanding, so will check in with my witnesses who were at the meeting where all of this was discussed, and see what they remember. The University is always trying to pull a fast one, and I have to keep on my toes. K. invited me for leftovers, she showed me her motorcycle project and her scooter project, and then we went to the park by the Sound to play with Momo and another local doggie. Too bad Bindi wasn't with.

Tig

This story was written by my friend in New Orleans.
LA
***************************************************



Valuing a single small life in the face of global disaster

June 2, 2008 By Jim Gabour

A frail beating heart in Jim Gabour's household is also a route to compassion in the world beyond.

He was deserted by his mother at birth and survived by his wits as a literal infant. He begged for food from seedier neighbourhood hangers-on, those scarcely better off than he. He scavenged for meals through rotting garbage in restaurant dumpsters, running between shadows on the precarious New Orleans lakefront. He occasionally trapped a fish which had strayed into the shallows or found a recently dead crab washed up on the shore.

He slept in abandoned cubbyholes hidden in the maze of small, damp caves that criss-cross beneath the jagged concrete of Lake Ponchartrain water breaks.

He managed his own life for well over a decade, with help from no one. Then as he was trying to cross a street, once again scrabbling for food, he was hit and critically injured by a car. The vehicle rolled over him, and did not stop to help.

Neighbours saw his injury, ran to the accident site and tried to find him. But, like sole survivalists are wont to do, he had instantly gone to ground to try and recover on his own. Other than recent bloodstains, there was not even a sign of him to be found when that help first arrived. When by pure chance he was discovered weeks later by a rescuer, he was on the verge of death, had lost one eye, all his teeth and the use of a leg. His tongue was split down the middle. Untreated, his bones had fused incorrectly.

He was in constant pain, and tried as best he could to communicate that distress.

His volunteer doctor ordered him taken for rehabilitation to a wooded inland farm in Mississippi, a place that catered to such lost souls. He had really just been settling in there when, in 2005, hurricane Katrina came ashore just south of the place, inundating the coastline with a thirty-foot storm surge. Trees and dwellings were considerably thinned.

But he survived again, and even began to thrive, together with others of his ilk and age for the first time.

By December 2007 he had recovered enough to be offered for adoption on the internet, his story accompanied by a picture of his tortured, though admirable, face.

But an adoptive family was not considered a likely result. Even the rescue agency itself admitted that a crippled, toothless, and half-blind 13-year-old was a long-shot for adoption.

He now lives at my house.

My own 12-year-old, who had lost an eye on the same side to illness at birth, had died only months before, and through an improbable chain of events starting with his picture on the internet, the limping little boy came to live with me.

You see, he is an orange tabby too.

A loving presence

"Tigger" he is called. He was tagged as "Tiger" when adopted, but the old boy was much too loving and non-aggressive to be called that, and so his name was softened with another "g". He weighed twelve pounds, 5.4 kilos, when he arrived here on Marigny Street in New Orleans. He gained weight and then a feeling of safety, on a steady diet and much petting.

Now after months of stability and love, those measures of happiness suddenly are declining hourly over the last seventy-two. Something bad has entered his system, and his breathing becomes more laboured by the moment. At first the doctors thought a harsh uprising of asthma, and then, a possible heart-attack, sending some sort of embolism from heart to lungs. It is the weekend, his regular vet is not available, and the emergency clinic where he first was treated had him overnight in an oxygen tent.

In the process of diagnosing his condition and evaluating his current status they have performed a number of scientific and medical procedures, including taking a life-sized X-ray. They looked inside his thick orange fur and discovered even more of his history.

There is a bullet lodged in his side. It has been there some time and has scarred over.

Two of his spinal vertebrae were crushed in what were probably the jaws of a large dog.

He has many many other healed wounds.

All this violence attached to the touchingly affectionate creature that has slept purring with his head and front paws on my hip for all these past months. But I never realised just how far he had come, how much he had endured. Yet here was a creature still able to blot out past horror and simply offer himself as a loving presence in others' lives.

Today, this nervous Sunday morning, while I waited for word about Tigger's imminent transfer to a different, much better-equipped, and vastly more expensive critical-care facility, I looked at the headlines on the web, on openDemocracy, and in the newspapers. None of which was comforting.

I read the stories of so many lives lost to tragedy and terror, both natural and man-made, and became lost amidst the reported masses of unprovoked and undeserved pain and death.

There are so many of them, so many innocents taken up in the tide of misery and forged into a singular face - the cyclone victim in Myanmar, the quake casualty in China, the tortured child of Sudan. Too many. And too much pain for the "civilised" world to bear. For whose convenience they are transformed a solitary, horrific entity. Some unified image to haunt the nights of liberals worldwide. Who, like me send a pound, a euro, a dollar, and try to forget the individual faces. They are too much for the heart when considered one by one. Too much.

A feline respite

But this old tabby and his X-rayed contents have made me begin separating faces and lives, and stories. Maybe this is his function on earth, showing himself as a reminder for compassion on a personal scale.

Today, over my clean coffee cup, silverware and plate, in the security of my own locked and alarmed home, I once again am forced to realise the depth of true sorrow, of the loss of individual lives.

Our minds protectively do indeed perceive them as a single face, but they have many. Their stories, the vast majority of which are never even considered significant, much less told, are each profound.

Their worth is no less than the story of the politician, the intellectual, the philosopher. If faced with the choice, I would undoubtedly prefer the existence of Tigger in this world to that of the current United States president. Though I fear the cat and I both now owe W a debt of sorts. Saturday, before taking Tigger to the emergency room, the mail arrived with an "economic stimulus payment" - a check from the federal government made out to me for $600. Today, just hours ago at the ritzy veterinary critical-care hospital, I was required to put down a deposit on the Tig's bill: the hospital's finance person demanded I pay $600. I am not kidding. Exactly $600. Which, confounding George W Bush's economically subterranean policies, I gave to the hospital and did not spend at Wal-Mart.

No matter, George. All of us eventually die. Only the worth of the story remains.

Tigger would tell them that they all matter, if he could. He himself matters, here in this hard place where creatures live and die at the whim of their fellows. Where the self-aware are ruled by the caprice of the planet on which they are allowed momentarily to exist. And occasionally use the litter-box. Then to not exist.

I spoke to the doctor just now. My tabby is awake and purring in his oxygen tent. I must go read him the Sunday paper.

Comics first.

He likes the way I explain the brightly-printed comics. There are speaking cats in those pages, felines who are in charge of their lives.

He is not well, you know, and to heal must have brief respites from the pain of reality.

As do we all.



_______________

Jim Gabour is an award-winning film producer, writer and director, whose work focuses primarily on music and the diversity of cultures. He lives in New Orleans, where he is artist-in-residence and professor of video technology at Loyola

New Car

This is the car I bought. 2009 Subaru Forester, Sage Green Metallic. Thanks to AR and CC for their help; they came with, separately, and both chose the Forester over the CR-V.

Various

Got it down to a 2008 CR-V and a 2009 Subaru Forester. Leaning towards the latter. Better visibility. Have no idea how to negotiate price. Am asking a friend for help. Niece R. was here for a couple of days, left yesterday afternoon. It was so wonderful and special having her visit, but I was sad before she arrived knowing she would leave so soon, and am sad that she is gone. Much loneliness. She helped me put together a bookshelf and hang one of the stained glass windows and weed my Edgerton garden. She took Bindi on two long walks. We enjoyed a local thrift shop together. She makes her own clothes that are stunning, creative, flamboyant. Radiation cancelled on Thursday as the machine was "down." Starting to see the same faces in the waiting/dressing room. One woman had throat cancer, her voice box removed. Lots of breast cancer. Still no news on the long term disability. Hard to blog. Can't concentrate. Visit to another doctor for a second opinion last Monday was a waste, as they hadn't gotten the surgery notes but didn't tell me till I was there three hours. I'm ok with other people, but as soon as I'm by myself, I get lost. Where's my Agadore?

Beachy Keen

Went to Rocky Neck beach yesterday with a small group. It was nice, and as usual, wonderful to swim in salt water. It was only when we were about to leave, around 2 pm, that I noticed a couple of jelly fish in the water, so we skeedaddled. Wow, that's an old fashioned word! Don't even know if I spelled it anyway correctly. I slathered with sun screen and we had three umbrellas, so I didn't get burned.

Had a dream where I was asking people for help with choosing a car. I'm having a hard time. The CR-V Honda is fine, but it seems the front seats are a bit shallow, meaning the depth of the seat from back to front, and I seem to be fixated on that. Shouldn't the car seat reach almost the bend in your legs, meaning your knees, when you are sitting in it? My old Corolla does. The CR-V is about 3-4 inches short of that. Drove a Suburu Forester, and it was ok, as was the Rav-4, but none is turning me on. I'm not expecting them to, since what I really want is a Lexus or a really cushy sedan, but the former is too expensive, and the latter too low to the ground. I feel like I shouldn't go to the dealer and ask to drive the cars more than once or twice, but I feel like I have to drive the cars six or seven times to make a decision. I should just be bold and say that's what I need and if they give me guff, I won't buy from them.

I hope we get some rain today. It has been dry dry dry.

Overdid It

Yesterday on my way to the first radiation treatment (I remembered to take the Atavan!), I stopped by a local jeweler to have the crystal replaced in my favorite watch. He said it would cost about $100! The watch didn't even cost that much, and the crystal was just cracked, not broken, so I think I will leave it be. Then after the treatment, I went to the Y summer camp pool near my house for my first swim since the surgery in May. It felt so nice, even tho the place was a bit trashed from the camp kids, and I swam back and forth, back and forth, slowly for quite a while. Then I came home and got Bindi, ate some food which gave me kind of an upset stomach, then went to a garden committee meeting at the community garden. After that I spent over an hour pruning the herbs in the herb garden there, Bindi got loose and I had to wait for her to get tired and come back to me, then we left the garden and came home. I was exhausted. Was supposed to go car shopping at 10am this morning, but I was so very tired, that I called my friend and cancelled.

Now, in an hour, back for another treatment. Sigh.

More Roberts

16 July 2008


The incense and candles from my last post. Holdovers from Catholic masses. And then morphed into the hippie culture. Now just purely sensual comforts. I am always reminded of Robert Mapplethorpe, the exquisite photographer, long deceased, and his attachment to altars because of his own Catholic upbringing. I saw a biography of him at an exhibit of his work, and cried because I felt such kinship with the man. His tenderness and vulnerability and his dark side. His portraiture is astonishing, including a self-portrait he made of himself shortly before his death.

The photo is of irises, dated 1987, photogravure technique.

Went to the cancer center Monday and yesterday, for set-up xrays. Today I start the radiation treatments. Monday I cried and cried all morning, but took Atavan before the appointment and was able to get thru having my head locked onto the table with the mask before the x-rays were taken. Yesterday I neglected to take the drug, and fell apart, esp. after listening to the story of a woman who had throat cancer. Sitting in the waiting area of the women's dressing room, I watched woman after woman come in, put on the gown, and sit and wait for her name to be called for treatment. How can I not be changed by this experience, since I will be doing the same thing for 30 more days?

Trying to decide which car to buy. Looked at Hondas, and Toyotas, and like the Honda CRV better than the Toyota Rav-4. Why are they making the back windows so ridiculously small? I'm having a hard time feeling what I like. None of them is calling out to me. I need something with room for the animals and the gardening stuff and my constant junk collecting, with a seat high enough that I don't have to bend my knees very much to get in and out. So sedans are out. They are all too low. The Toyota Matrix and the Honda Fit seem a little small to me, even though they get better gas mileage. The hybrids like the Prius have seats that are too low, but the fuel economy is very tempting. But I don't drive long distances, just around towns nearby, so it's not like I'm commuting and driving state to state where fuel economy would be much more important. I went onto the Car Talk website and took their Auto Advisor questionnaire for buying new cars. After I answered all the questions, it advised a Honda CR-V!! Making big decisions right now is the last thing I want to do, but the clutch on my 19 year old Corolla is about to go, and I don't want to put money into replacing it.

Supposed to get into the 90s tomorrow and Friday. Have a beach date on Saturday with a few folks. Can get a library state park pass so I don't have to pay the entry fee ($10). Called the YMCA here and I can use their outdoor pool on a fee per use basis ($10). Apparently, this camp pool is spring fed and very cold. May check it out this afternoon after the treatment.

Minute by Minute

13 July 2008

Light the sandalwood incense. Burn the candle. Pop in the cd. Remember my connection to those I love and who love me. Remember my connection to those I love and who love me. Remember my connection to those I love and who love me.



Little 5 year old Tom at dinner last night, so shy in the beginning. Then I asked D. for paper and markers, and Tom and I began to draw houses. And watch the fireflies. And he began to smile and even laugh, so beautifully. He put his finger to his lips and said, "Shhhh," as the fireflies were getting closer, he said. We heard rustling in the woods. I said a squirrel maybe, he said the wind, and looked up at the tall trees whose branches were swaying to and fro in the evening light.



Rachel and Frances left yesterday morning at 7.30am, after staying with me for three nights. The new anti-depressants must be working for me, as I did not crash. Already checking out my frequent flier miles to see what my options are. Will wait till niece R. is out there, then go visit all, including JK in Sacramento. Can I take the doggie-do?

Drove Myself to Distraction

First to Guilford for a cookout. Some nice folks, good food, and to top it off, a couple who came late brought the five baby mallard ducks they had rescued from the road, found without a mom. I got to see how they were fed, in a dishpan of water with crushed egg, crushed cheerios, crushed dog/cat kibble, smushed cooked green beans. Then I helped dry them off after they did their feeding thing. It was totally way too cute and sweet, and what an adorable peeping they all made. Got to see my old digs and picked blooms from the lavender plant I planted there, and gave some to everyone. The photo above looks just like the baby ducks. They couldn't have weighed more than an ounce each, so delicate, so vulnerable. Taught someone the difference between lemon verbena and lemon balm. One winters over here, the other not.

Then to the neighbors across the street for the son's graduation party. Really high energy, great music blasting from the outdoor speakers, lots of nice people, and a good talk with a guy who used to sell cars. He thinks I should look at Subarus. Why won't someone just go out and pick a car for me and I'll pay for it?! A little boy named Teddy who was so vibrant and full of spirit was walking Bindi around and brought her back to me with Bindi's back right leg limping. He said he "slipped." She seems ok now, but will keep an eye on it. B. said she'd make a copy of the Marc Anthony Spanish language ballads cd that was so beautiful.

I was out from noon till 9pm. Tomorrow I have a lunch date back in Guilford with the Robs, and then Frances will come to my house for a sleepover tomorrow night. I seem to be easily distracted when I am with other people. When I get back home, the reality of my situations sinks back in.

Camilla has a bladder infection, and from licking her belly clean of fur had a badly irritated patch of skin, so she's on two new meds for those problems. I think she is feeling better now, tho. Poor girl.

But I managed to change the sheets on the bed, which feels great when I can manage it. I sleep better.

Small Things

A Hoops & Yoyo e-card from my 13 year old niece.

Yas calling from Australia.

The neighbor across the street inviting me to his son's graduation party.

The Pekinese Chihuahua mix named Oliver in the dog park.

Finding people who want to go to the beach.

The vet being happy when Camilla peed on his office floor.

Cool breeze after a hot day.

Jeff weeding my garden and creating beautiful paths.

Watching "Wall-E" with R & F.

Fresh strawberries locally grown.

A new scratching box for the cats.

Bindiana Bones' new pink cap with a flamingo on it.

Talking with my sis and my niece on the phone.

Alice in Wonderland fabric.

Hope.



(Graphic from www.vital-message.com)