Tag Archives: life goes on

Goodbye 2020, hello 2021

What have I been up to? Wow. So much. We can all agree that 2021 has been a hard, harsh year. Here’s hoping 2021 treats us all gently.

Gina turns 12 in February, Odin turns 8 or 9 in March, and Azzie turns 9 in April! *touch wood* They are all healthy and happy, and they will remain that way if I have any say in it. Gina only goes on short toddles down to the local park (barely half a mile) and Azzie joins Odin and I on our shorter walks. Odin and I are still trying to get out on long walks together about 3 or 4 times a week.

I am still working as a virtual medical scribe, but I changed companies a few months ago (the other company I worked for was bought out by a huge global conglomerate and they were making some rather dubious and unhelpful changes to our processes, so I decided to leave) and now working for a nice little company based in the US. I’ve risen quite quickly in the ranks – now mentoring 3 scribes on 3 different doctors, as well as performing QA work on notes from all the other scribes, and working as sole scribe for my beloved Dr. H – who FOLLOWED ME FROM THE OTHER COMPANY TO MY NEW COMPANY! Yes! FOLLOWED ME! He also brought the rest of the clinic with him! This put a lot of brownie points on my cards, so I was astounded and thrilled! The work is tiring, but I like to teach/help people. Still liking my work, too! I get to work from home in my pajamas and avoid all the silliness that goes on out in the world at the moment. The USA is screwed, really. But I am sure you have heard/read the news. I avoid news – especially mainstream media – and I am no longer on ANY social media platforms. I deleted my Instagram account a few days ago after reading/hearing about the new draconian Terms of Service which allows them free reign and access to your accounts, computer and life. I thought it was just the usual dramatic overreaction by people (people like to do that these days – have you noticed?) but I actually read them, and read some breakdowns of them by intelligent people, and, yeah, it’s unbelievable what they think they can get away with. So, sadly, I deleted my account (will only officially be gone in Feb, but it is no longer accessible) and now figuring out other ways to express myself, I guess.

My photography was limited to my phone anyway, with Instagram – and, while I got some beautiful shots and have good memories there that I am glad I caught, I really need to get back into my _real_ photography with Bertha (my D300) as best I can here in New Mexico. We have, as we always do wherever we live, created our “Bird Bar” in our backyard, and we now have hundreds of birds coming by daily to feast, and many different species, so I have started photographing them! We have some unique/rare birds coming by, including a Greater Roadrunner! She/he (you can’t tell, as the males and females look identical) has a crushed/crumpled left foot, and we don’t know where her/his mate is – we used to see the two of them together, so something bad must have happened, as they mate for life – so we do our best to make sure he/she has lots of food, water, and a very safe place to relax for a bit whenever he/she needs it. Our backyard is a bird sanctuary, basically! We have a bunch of “wonky” birds (no legs, weird beaks, missing eyes, broken/crushed feet, gigantic compared to their brethren, etc) in our Bird Bar, and we are rather proud of that! Speaking of birds, I rescued (yes, right out of a tree) a yellow and green Budgie a few weeks ago – Husband called him Commidus the Elusive (named after a famous/infamous Roman gladiator) as he was clearly a little survivor, living with the Finches and Sparrows for we don’t know how long. He was traumatized (not by us, but probably in his escape/abandonment) and he is slowly coming out of his shell. In order to help him learn how to Budgie (as he could only Sparrow or Finch!) we also got a little female Budgie who was all on her own at PetSmart, looking very miserable and sad. We called her Julia (the Roman version) aka Jules, and she has been instrumental in helping him become a happy, talkative, Budgie-like Budgie 🙂 They are loud and obnoxious and we love them.


Husband is busy getting his degree, and he is doing well! He starts his next series of courses on Monday, after a very short break for the holidays. 


Also, on the morning of 10/10/2020, I went across to the Big House (my mother-in-law’s place) to feed the feral cat colony, as I do every morning, and as I was about to leave, I saw 2 dogs hanging around. One was a golden coloured female Pitbull mix (looked like a Staffie more than the American Pitbull) and the other was a tiny, cream coloured Chihuahua male. The Pittie was clearly in very bad shape… and I burst into tears. I got them both some water in a big bowl and put it along the fence (it is still very warm in October, here) and backed off to my car. Both dogs came to the water (the female was struggling to walk) and drank the bowl almost dry. I didn’t know what to do – it was a Saturday, so nobody was around to watch them and no rescues/vets open) so I drove home… but I sobbed the whole way because of the way the female looked… my heart was utterly overwhelmed with pity and sadness for her, and anger at whoever had abandoned her. I got home… tried to explain to Husband what I had seen.. but I was sobbing so much he could barely understand me, but asked me if I wanted to go back and do something, and I nodded yes, yes, definitely yes. So we drove back and found the Pitbull lying at the gate… clearly in a great deal of pain, and looking like she wanted to give up. The little Chihuahua was close by, guarding her, yapping away. 

Very slowly, Husband went closer and closer to her, and eventually managed to touch her head and stroke her neck… and she initially looked very scared, but she then just relaxed, let out a big sigh, and let him stroke her head and what was left of her ears (they had been chopped off.. BADLY… as the idiots around here like to do with Pitbulls to make them look mean). We called around, mobile vets, rescues, etc… but nobody wanted to help. Thankfully, I had saved the number of Frank – a friend of my mother-in-law’s – who had helped get all the feral cat colony spayed and neutered many years ago, and had helped us with some other dogs we found (and found homes for or found the owners) – and we called him, desperate. He JUMPED to help us. He is an amazing man. We then found out he was a top man at the Humane Society in NM! We didn’t know that – he’s such a down to earth guy. He called his friend (also a top dog at HS) who was called the Dog Whisperer (and had dealt with many Pitbulls – as we had never dealt with them and we were a little nervous, if I’m honest) who came to help. He walked up to Hazel (as we later found out her name was) and she immediately just let him touch her… by that time we had gotten her and the Chihuahua into the nice cool, grassy yard, and they were lying under the trees in the shade, sleeping safely for the first time in a long time, it seemed. The little guy did not leave her side. We later called him Lambert, because he had little “lamby” ears and ended up being SO sweet and gentle. With Frank’s help we got Hazel into a kennel to get her to the emergency vet (the only ones willing to help us) and we drove her there, with Lambert. She had pyometra (her uterus was filled with pus and it was leaking into her body) from being over-bred. She had heartworms (badly – they had scarred her lungs already) and other tick-borne diseases like Lyme disease. She was in a very, very bad way. The vet said she was on death’s door, basically, and probably would have died if we hadn’t brought her in. Frank had discovered she had a microchip by that stage, and found out her name – Hazel – and that she was about 10.5 years old. She had clearly been dumped out in the rural areas and left to die, as when Frank found out the address of her “owners” – they were over 20 miles away… and there was no WAY Hazel could have walked that far in her condition. Not sure if the little guy was her friend and had been dumped too, or if he was just a little stray who found her and decided to protect her. Frank contacted them, and all their other numbers, but nobody responded. The vet also contacted them with the microchip data, and all the other numbers, and they never responded. And we were GLAD about that – because there was no WAY we would let them have her back. No way in hell. So, Hazel underwent emergency surgery for the pyometra and started on antibiotics, etc. She stayed at the vet overnight and we fetched our new dog – because we decided on the spot that we would be adopting her, no doubt about it – the next afternoon.

The vet said she was strong, and a real survivor, and she said that we would wait one month and check her again before deciding if we would proceed with heartworm treatment. Until that time, she needed to stay calm and relaxed and comfortable to prevent issues with the heartworms, and she was also recovering from surgery, and many infections and nasty bugs on top of that. We decided to keep her separate from our crazy 3, as they were not exactly conducive to “calm” – if you have ever met them, this would be totally apparent. We made her a cozy den at our old house in the nice big yard, with heaters and blankets and a big pink plush piggy toy to keep her company when we were not there. She had a nice big, green, grassy, shady yard to relax in, and she LOVED it. I found her many times sleeping on the grass under the tree while the weather was good. When it got colder (and man did it get cold fast) she happily chilled in her den and we often found her still asleep and relaxed and comfortable when we came over to feed her, give her her medications, and spend time with her. She perked up, got more life in her golden eyes, and more energy. We took her for little walks in the area (only a few minutes each time) and she loved that too. She was gentle, and funny, and so, so sweet. She definitely gave that horrible “pitbull” stereotype a run for its money. She was very interested in the cats, but not in an aggressive way – she probably could have learned to get along with them if she got the chance. We were never really sure how she would deal with other dogs, especially big dogs, as her only dog friend had been Lambert, and he was tiny. She did encounter our neighbour’s dog briefly, through the gate, but she did not growl, snarl, bark, or even get tense… she wagged her tail and perked her ear stubs up, and that was about it. 

So we had 2 good months with her, where she was so happy, and relatively healthy (vet wanted us to wait an additional month before starting the heartworm, and I am glad we did, as we got the extra time with her) and then we started the heartworm treatment. The vet warned us on multiple occasions that heartworm treatment was harsh, and horrible, and very dangerous. It’s like chemotherapy… there’s a fine line between killing the worms effectively, and not killing the dog, basically. She fought hard for 2 weeks. She tried her absolute best. Unfortunately, we lost her to the heartworms (After some horrible emergency visits to the vet with a bloated stomach, difficulty breathing, lethargy, etc) and the treatments. The worms won. (I am crying writing this, as it was so recent it still hurts like hell to think about it)

Thankfully, we were there when she went, peacefully, gently, assisted by our incredible vet, Dr. Anderson, on 12/28/2020. It was me, Husband, and my mother-in-law, and we told her we loved her, and we would see her on the other side one day. We later found out her birthday was 08/08/2010. Some interesting and significant numbers, I think. We try to find comfort in the fact we gave her a loving, caring home in her last days. 


Unfortunately, even though we would happily have offered Lambert a home, he escaped about 20 seconds after we got him home to the big yard (where Hazel would eventually live a few days later) and we tried to get him to come back to us, but he disappeared into thin air… we searched all over for him, but he was gone. We like to think he was her guardian angel, and when he knew she would be safe with us, he went on to help another dog in need. It’s the only thing that makes that horrible ache a little easier to deal with. We were so ready to give him a good life as well. According to the vet, he was about 6 months old, and in good health. 


Hazel was a special, special dog and we will miss her terribly. She made an impression on so many people, and so many people helped us with her care and sent love and good wishes for her – she touched many people in a deep way. 
And that’s about all I can manage to write right now, as I am crying again. 

I will be updating my site a lot more now, as I have no other means of contact with the world since deleting my Instagram.

Silence is not always bad

Doing this #100happydays thing with a few friends – where you try and find at least one good thing about your day.

It’s been… interesting. I will admit that I skipped a day, or two. Not because I couldn’t find anything to feel happy about, but simply because my brain has enough trouble remembering things that help keep me moving each day and I just forgot completely to “take a shot” of something good.

I wanted to take a shot of my dog’s poop – that’s when I realised that I needed to think again. Reason being – my dogs have been so sick for so long, that seeing a “good” poop from them made me happy beyond words. Seeing it consistently for the last few days has really kept a lightness to my heart. Also, seeing Gina’s new energy level and playfulness (like when we first got her!) and Azzie calmness and happiness, makes me feel bad for them that they were sick for so long.

It’s still slow going – taking it a day at a time with this – but they are definitely getting better and this makes me HAPPY!

A happy fur mom.

Azzie has another issue that we now need to deal with – but it’s not making her sick and it doesn’t affect her in any way other than it embarrasses her and makes a little mess. Doesn’t happen all the time, of course – almost random, really – so it’s hard to sort out. Going to try something natural first, before we hit the drugs. Just waiting for it to arrive in the mail.

Husband has been gone “on mission” for a little bit and will be gone for a little while longer. I miss him, of course, and the house is silent without him – especially in the evenings and on the weekends when we let our hair down and listen to music, watch movies, laugh about things or he plays his games and gets loud and silly and has fun with his friends online.

But sometimes, it’s alright, the silence. I focus on things that I would normally ignore – me, for instance, and how I am doing.

Some people find it hard to understand that I really don’t mind being on my own. I’m never “alone” – just, not in the company of people. This is fine with me – I like my own company. I can say/think what I want when I am with me – no filter necessary to either tone it down or make it understandable to other humans. My husband gets me better than most, I will admit, but even for him, some of the things that come out of my mouth, from the depths of my dark mind, even he doesn’t always understand it.

 

I’ve had more memories return, as well, from my youth. It seems 10 years is long enough to keep them locked away and now they are starting, slowly, to resurface. I’ve “dreamed” a few – but I know they are _real_ not just my usual vivid dreams. I “remember” them when I wake up. Things come back to me. I have been a little… saddened I guess is the word, by some of them. Because I could not (cannot) remember most of what happened to me before the accident, when things come back and I can understand them better, see them from an older and wiser perspective – I see things now that I was completely oblivious to when they happened.

One of the memories nearly woke me screaming the other night. I woke up with jaw clenched, hands clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. I was sweating profusely and my heart was beating so hard I felt like I was going to vomit. And my head hurt so badly I couldn’t move it. My husband slept on, so I am assuming my “noise” was all internal. Which is fine. It’s not a memory I wanted to share, anyway.

 

Head injury, and PTSD, affect us for so long after they happen. Sometimes the recovery can be painful – not just physically, but emotionally and mentally too. New pathways are formed in our brains, which means new ways of seeing things. Some of the things can really suck.

Luckily, one of the good things that came of my head injury, PTSD, and subsequent recovery is that I am very strong, mentally. I am also very close to myself. If that makes sense. I know _me_ and I know what I am and who I am and what I can and cannot handle. So, while I feel like I wasted my youth trying to have things I could never have, be with people who didn’t want to be with me at all, or get myself into situations I should have been smarter about – I learn something from every memory that comes back.

Any fellow sufferers who read this – hang in there. Don’t give up. Be strong. Be yourself. Trust yourself.