Tag: women

A Challenge

I have a challenge for you. This is a toughie even though it shouldn’t be. Go stand in front of a mirror and look at yourself. Really look at yourself, from top to bottom and bottom to top, give yourself a really close look. Look deeply at every body part then look at the whole package, all put together. Now find things you love about yourself.

I did that this morning as I was finishing up putting on my makeup. I looked at the whole package, from my curly unruly hair to my badly done self-pedicure and at first glance I wasn’t particularly pleased with what I saw. Curly hair that always looks like I just got out of a convertible on a cross country road trip. Reconstructed breasts from a bilateral mastectomy complete with tattooed nipples, and contrary to the common misconception, it’s not a boob job. A stomach that is no longer taut, legs that are too short and thighs that are too big. Nothing grotesque but no super model by any figment of the wildest imagination.

Then I looked again and really looked at myself. I decided that my curly unruly hair fits me quite nicely as I am unruly and brash. I looked at my eyes and the odd color of blue that they are is quite striking. My gaze traveled down to the rest of my anatomy and decided that I don’t care that my reconstructed breasts are not perfect but at least I’m alive and cancer free. My legs are short and heavier than I would like but I can walk and get around just fine.

Then I turned inward and looked at my soul and spirit. I found a person that doesn’t take life too seriously. I am as irreverent about life as how curly my hair is. I will almost always make a wisecrack about anything sad or happy. We’re not here long enough to get too serious. I am basically an honest person and will protect my family and friends to the death. I am passionate about living the rest of my life doing things that make me happy and whole. All in all not a bad person, fairly normal.

Now it’s your turn, what do you love about yourself? The list should be long, because there is so much more to a person that what looks back at you in the mirror. Your smile, the way you tilt your head to one side or the really tight hugs you give to the people you love, these are the wonderful beautiful parts of you and should never ever be dismissed. These things are what make you perfect

Charlie

I will preface this by saying I consider myself an animal lover. I would never intentionally hurt or abuse any animal for the pleasure of seeing something in pain. I think of myself as a good pet owner, or at least I try to be. Sometimes that’s not as easy as it sounds. In fact right now I’m at an impasse as to what is a good pet owner.

We got Charlie when he was ten weeks old. He is the only dog we picked out as a puppy and purposely brought home to raise. His parents were proven bird hunting dogs, so Mitch figured that Charlie would inherit those traits and he did. Charlie has always had a great nose, searching out pheasants. His points are picture perfect and he’s never been leery of the retrieve. He’s a good hunter despite having us as pet owners. Now after eleven years he still has that hunting heart and soul.

What he doesn’t have any more is all of his facilities. He is suffering from Canine Dementia or Cognitive Dysfunction. There isn’t a lot of good information out there on Canine Dementia, but he’s not exhibiting most of the symptoms, loss of sight, hearing or incontinence. No, Charlie has become very aggressive. He has always been a bit unstable, stemming from being attacked by the dogs of a former neighbor twice when he was a puppy. Those two incidents pretty much set the tone for his animal aggression for the rest of his life. Now an explosive episode comes without warning or provocation.

In the last two months Charlie has attacked Orso three times just for being within five feet of him. On one occasion, Charlie went after Orso and I was between the two so Charlie bit me, not breaking the skin, but he left a large bruise and a knot on my thigh. Another incident happened with Orso walking in the door and Charlie went after him drawing blood and when Mitch tried to separate Charlie from Orso, Charlie went after Mitch. Mitch said that when he looked in Charlie’s eyes, he wasn’t there. His eyes were dilated and blank, no recognition, just rage. Two of the last three episodes have drawn blood.

We’ve tried Diazepam (doggie valium) but it doesn’t help much. I think we were hoping he would sleep through his days and be blissfully dopey. Instead we still have a dog that gives way to explosive violence and aggressive attacks aimed at Orso. It is so heartbreaking to watch our dog (crazy as he is) slip away and become replaced by an animal that is more Mr. Hyde than Dr. Jekyll. It is even more heartbreaking knowing that we can’t protect Orso, who doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, doesn’t deserve any of this and loves Charlie so much.

Since we don’t have a vet here yet, we don’t have anyone we trust to talk to about this and ask for guidance, we called our vet in Kansas City to discuss our options. Sadly there are few out there, and only for the short term. More Diazepam maybe but this is only going to get worse. We need to plan for an end of life solution. We know this and accept it, but following through and finding a vet here feels almost like an act of cowardice. We took him to raise and euthanasia feels like we are failing Charlie; that we should figure out a way to fix him. That is our hearts talking, our heads know better, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It’s hard to even talk about it because to voice it and say the words, makes it real, and that means you have to make a decision.

I only hope that Charlie will sleep well and rest easy and know how much we have loved him his whole life. He was a good hunter, and loyal to a fault. A piece of my heart will go with him.

Worms for Sale

I am learning a whole new lifestyle here. Winters here are not as cold as the in Midwest, wetter though with this past December as one of the wettest on record. January brought more rain, so it’s a fair assumption that the ground here is pretty saturated. This month we’ve had temperatures in the high fifties and even hit sixty a couple of days. For the most part this isn’t so bad, I would rather walk the dogs in the rain than in the bitter freezing cold in the Midwest.

The downside to all of the rain we’ve been having is earthworms are everywhere. They are coming out of the ground because it is so wet and are all over the parking lot of our apartment complex. Maybe it has to do with the landscaping or the black asphalt, I don’t know but it is so gross, walking through the parking lot and dodging hundreds of worms stretched out drowning. The worms range in size from small to night crawler size, so can you imagine what it would feel like stepping on a big squishy slimy night crawler and have your foot slip out from under you. Then you are sitting on the ground getting worm guts on your butt. Even grosser.

In order to solve this dilemma and save the earthworms from either drowning or being squished by cars or feet, I’ve come up with an enterprise that should net me millions or at least ten bucks. I am going to go out and collect all of the water logged worms dry them out and sell them on the internet. I would wrap them up in a cute little box, maybe like the Chinese takeout boxes and ship them all over the world.

This would be a great gift for the fishermen out there, kids that want to start an earthworm farm or even someone that wants to rescue worms and relocate them. Hey, they rescue everything else out there from dogs to elephants, surely someone out there cares about the fate of the lowly earthworm.

The Battle

In October 2013 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had an estrogen based breast cancer, probably from taking hormones during menopause for too long. I made the choice to have a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction. I made this choice to avoid radiation and chemotherapy treatments. As much as I complained about my naturally curly hair, I didn’t want to lose it and start over. I didn’t want to go through the days and weeks of feeling miserable and sick from the chemo. I didn’t want the burned skin from the radiation treatments that would hurt more than any sunburn and would turn my skin black from the treatments.

My best friend was diagnosed with breast cancer two years before me and went through a lumpectomy, radiation and chemotherapy. I watched her lose her hair, saw her burned skin and stood by as she lost her sense of taste and sensation in her finger tips. I marveled at her strength throughout the treatments, her smile and the way she made cancer insignificant as she fought and won, beating breast cancer. She is my hero and the strongest, most courageous woman I know. I also knew that I couldn’t be that strong in my fight against breast cancer.

Sometimes I feel like I cheated. Like I took a shortcut in my battle by having a mastectomy and reconstruction. I eliminated the cancer by having my breasts removed and all of the surrounding tissue. I healed up and went on about my life, returning to my normal routine. I take a pill every day for five years to keep my body from making any estrogen and visit my oncologist every six months, but for the most part, my life is the same as it was before cancer.

I read about all of the people battling some form of cancer how they fight, their strength of purpose and will to live. I admire their courage and strength. I always feel a bit odd when I walk into my oncologist’s office and see the really sick people waiting for treatment like I’m taking precious time away from each of them for me.

No, I don’t want to experience the sickness and pain of fighting cancer in order to legitimatize my personal battle; that is not what I’m saying, I admire everyone that had or has cancer and their personal decisions on how they wage their battle. I just feel that I’m not worthy as all of the others are who have fought and either won or lost their battle against cancer.

I don’t know if this is a survivor’s crisis or just me. Maybe this is the truth that people who take shortcuts feel guilty later for taking the shortcut or a quicker way of getting to the endgame. The same way people that are given money squander it as opposed to understanding the value of the effort to earn it. Maybe that is the crux of my quandary, I don’t feel like I earned my win.

A Beautiful Day in Washington

Today the sun is shining and not a cloud in the sky. It’s a bit cold, around thirty degrees, but no wind. We went for a walk around the Gene Coulon Beach Park and got some nice shots of the Olympic Mountains to our north and to the south on the walk back we got to see Mount Ranier in all of its glory.

A perfect way to end the year.

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Stealth Mode

Definitely not a term that is ever used when describing a Labrador retriever. Friendly, playful, loyal, gun dog, excellent retriever and most popular family dog are all words and terms used to describe the Labrador retriever, see no stealth mode. The breed originated in Newfoundland, originally called the St John’s water dog and was bred to retrieve in the cold waters. Today the Lab is a great family dog, loyal and playful, always in the middle of everything family.

To describe a Lab, you start at the head. His head is large and square or “blocky” with soft eyes that always melt your heart and make you smile. They have amazing hearing with ears that perk up at the slightest sound of the peanut butter jar lid being turned, even if they are on the other side of the house. A Lab has a big deep chest housing a stomach that can and has eaten almost a whole fifty pound bag of dog food in one sitting. Tip, never leave a bag of dog food unsecured.

At the end of the Labrador retriever is the tail. The tail was designed to be wide at the base and strong, to help steer and keep him afloat in the icy waters. The tail also has to be very large and strong, because that is where his heart is. The tail tells you everything you will ever need to know about a Lab. The happier the dog is faster his tail wags. The faster his tail wags, the bigger his smile gets on the front end. As far as happy goes, the Labrador retriever takes top honors.

With our goofy schedule, I work days and Mitch works nights. I get up at four am to start my day while Mitch is still asleep so I try to move around quietly and get dressing without making any noise. Well no matter how quiet I am, it is all canceled out with the banging of tails wagging, thumping against the bathroom door, the wall or the closet doors. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to give them space to wag in silence, they find a hard surface to bang their happy out. Good thing Mitch sleeps like the dead.

Stealth mode, not in this home.

I Still Got It!

You know, that hidden talent. The one thing you excel at, something you do better than anyone else. For me, I have a special talent that I can do better than anyone I know or possibly in the world. Sound a bit arrogant, I don’t mean to, I’m just pretty sure no one else can do this as well as me. I was getting a bit worried that I had lost my special talent, because it has been a long dry spell.

I have walking route I take almost every day with the dogs. It is a mile circuit with a narrow steep trail at one end and a long winding road at the other end. If I choose to take the long winding road first I have to walk up the road which has a 15% grade and three switch backs. By the second switch back I usually regret my decision, even though I know it’s good for me. Then I take the narrow trail down to the slick wooden steps hoping that the dogs don’t pull me off my feet.

If I choose the trail at the beginning, I have to climb the flight of steep wooden steps up the hill. It is steeper than the road but shorter. I always feel like a heart attack is one short breath away. Also good for me to get the workout, but I’m not so fond of the reminder that I need to work out harder. Then when I come to the long winding road which now a downhill 15% grade is easier for me, but I feel like I’m cheating a bit.

Yesterday, I chose to take the trail up and the road down, the dogs were cooperating walking sedately. I marveled at the fact that I didn’t have the usual stabbing pain in my chest as I walked up the path, thinking maybe I’m getting back in shape. We walked across the parking lot of the apartment complex and headed down the road. We had passed the second switch back when my left foot hit a slick spot on the road and I went down hard. My right knee slammed against the pavement, eliciting a few choice words. Both dogs stopped and waited patiently for me to get back up on my feet. They are used to me falling down for no apparent reason. The biggest embarrassment was that a car drove by just as I went down.

I waited until I got back home before looking at my knee, which I’m now sporting a nice bruise and an abrasion that spans across my knee. Yep I still got it. I can fall down better than anyone else I know.

It’s good to know that I excel at one thing.

Sightseeing

Mitch had a rare Sunday off and with the upper elevations getting tons of snow, we opted for a day at the Space Needle and the Chihuly Garden and Glass Museum. We thought that since it is the last weekend before Christmas, the new Star Wars Movie opening and the Seahawks playing at home the crowds, wouldn’t be too bad. It was cloudy and chilly but it wasn’t raining while we were at the top of the Space Needle. I was able to get some shots that I thought were pretty good.

I couldn’t believe the beauty of the glass sculptures, true works of art and oh so delicate. I’m here to tell you, I walked around from room to room, keeping a lot of distance between the glass pieces and me. Anyone that knows me knows just how graceful I am and walking among pieces of fragile glass valued at tens of thousands of dollars each, was a disaster just waiting to happen. I have a gift and I had no desire to be the lead off news story of the evening.

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Taking Stock

Christmas is just two weeks away and this year is so different from previous holidays. This year instead of planning and preparing dinner for one son, his wife and daughters on Christmas Eve and doing it again on Christmas Day for the other son, his wife, daughters and the rest of us. Christmas Eve was usually prime rib and Christmas Day was chicken parmesan with spaghetti and meatballs. Two whole days spent cooking and baking, cleaning and making sure everything was perfect. A bit obsessive, maybe but I love cooking and baking and creating food that people enjoy eating. This year will be a lot different from our past holiday dinners, this year Christmas dinner will be something quick and easy, maybe pizza, maybe leftovers, it will be just the two of us and Mitch will have to leave to go to work.

I have been feeling a bit off, a long way from everything known, routine and comfortable, not that I don’t love where I’m at now and what I’m doing, it’s just a lot different, out of my comfort zone. Since we are still in an apartment, the majority of our belongings are still in storage, most of my cookware, all of my Christmas decorations and cookbooks are not here to put up or use, so I feel like we’re living in an extended stay hotel. Not really home.

Up until now I hadn’t been lonely, even though I work from home and the regular outside contacts I have are my hairdresser I see once a month and our realtor who is patient beyond belief trying to help us find our dream house. Our friends that live here are wonderful, but with our crazy work schedules, social life doesn’t exist, not that we had much of a social life before. So I’m not missing out on that here.

At first I couldn’t put my finger on it, what my problem was, then it dawned on me, I have no problems. I have a husband that loves me, two dogs that make me crazy and would eat anyone that tried to hurt me, (I am the giver of food) and living in a beautiful wonderful place that I get to make new memories. We won’t have the hustle and hectic days of cooking and cleaning, but we will have each other, and that’s what really matters.

Yes, it’s been a very chaotic year with so much upheaval and change, but maybe that’s what you need sometimes, great change. Life, like water that doesn’t move grows stagnant and complacent, forgetting the truly important things in our world. Our family may be thousands of miles away and I won’t be there to cook for them, or watch them open their presents, but I can call and talk to them anytime, not just on Christmas.

The year is coming to an end and the New Year brings promises of hope and change, yes there must always be change, not all changes are good but all changes are not bad either. I embrace the future and all the changes to come.

Christmas Lights

The Gene Coulon Memorial Beach Park is right across the street from our apartment complex and I’ve been told that every year they fill the park with these beautiful lights. So last night Mitch humored me and armed with my camera we headed down to try my hand at night photography. I had some luck for my first attempt. But then my subjects were amazing.

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