Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Knees

I woke up in pain. Not a migraine, not a neck kink, not a sinus infection, but a vague, hurty combination of all three.

Solution: arthritis pills! A mean combination of muscle relaxants and painkillers.

Problem (realized too late): I have two scripts to write today.

I’m hoping writing this entry will get me started. So far, it took me ten minutes to write this sentence

Let’s see… what’s new….

  • It’s too soon to tell if the all-natural approach to doggy ligament healing is working. She didn’t limp for days and then we returned from a lovely Thanksgiving with the in-laws to find her hobbling around again. Of course there was a big weather change over the weekend and even Dad was limping. Still, I have high hopes for the combinations of tonics and elixirs I’m using on the dog. I’m convinced she won’t need surgery. I should have a full report for you in a few weeks.
  • Dad is limping because he took up running. And dating. Or not dating. He's been very clear that it’s none of our damn business. All this secrecy. It’s really like we have an 18 year-old living in the basement (except he cooks and helps clean, fixes things and walks the dogs and is generally good-natured).
  • My sister, meanwhile, is in the most stressful relationship of her life. The 21 year-old feline Mookie continues to rule the house in a cranky, hissing, toothless, dog-hating, eat-47-times-a-day, geriatric sort of way.
  • Us. Trev and I haven’t really hit our stride in our new life, yet. Things are good, really good. We have a home we like, we’re back with family and friends and we’re both employed. It should all be going like gangbusters by now. But I think it’s just going to take a little longer than we thought to really feel at home. And I gotta remember that’s absolutely okay. Take it slow and frickin’ RELAX already. Finally getting some exercise helps. Actually, the pills kind of help, too….

Okay. Thanks for reading this mess. I’m sort of awake. They’re sure going to get an interesting couple of scripts today.

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Thursday, October 09, 2008

Dear Oster

Dear Oster:

I bought an electric kettle at my local Cosco store. I'm not entirely sure which exact model no. it is (they look the same on the website, and I'm not at home so I can't check). It's either 5965-33 or 5964-33.

It started a fire in my kitchen today. I had just poured the last of the water into my cup and placed it back on the base. The power knob was in the 'off' position. A few minutes later, I heard the snapping and found that the base was on fire. I quickly removed the unit from the base, then unplugged the base. This could have been a fairly serious incident, especially had I not been home, as the flames were shooting out towards the paper towel roll, which was against the wall, etc.

The base is melted and the bottom of the kettle, the metal part, is pretty fire damaged. I have called Costco and they will issue me a full refund. I've recommended they pull any of this particular batch of product off their shelves, but luckily, or perhaps very unluckily, they've sold out completely.

I will return the damaged unit and they will fill in an incident report, which I'm assuming you will get. I just wanted you to know immediately that this happened.

Thank you,

Working From Home Today

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Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Link: Cake Wrecks

Cake Wrecks has provided me with hours of fun. Hours, I tell you!

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The Doing

So after the big whine comes the “get off your ass and do something about it” phase. And when I can get past the moaning and moping, I remember to do my research.

The dog is not going for surgery. Instead, I’m putting her on seriously restricted activity for the next six to eight weeks. I’m back to feeding raw and increasing joint-friendly supplements. I understand that ligament tissue doesn’t re-grow. But some accounts tell me that the joint can sometimes stabilize itself by growing compensatory fibrous tissue. It just needs time.

Plus, the vet can’t tell me 1. If her cruciate ligament is really torn or 2. How badly it is torn. He’s simply going on statistics. That’s how they do it. Well, statistics aren’t enough of a reason for me to go ahead with a risky and expensive, and questionably effective procedure (most dogs require second, third surgeries, inevitably including the opposite leg), especially if there’s even the slightest chance that this joint can heal itself on its own.

So I’m rolling the dice. If she doesn’t heal, at least I gave it a shot, learned something and besides, there’s no time limit on the surgery itself should she need it down the road.

Meanwhile, I may be evicted from my own house. The dog food recipe I make includes patties of “prairie-fed green tripe”. Green tripe “includes some of the stomach's last content and smells very unappetizing”. Way to understate it, Internets. It’s the most foul, shit-smelling, disgusting crap (one step away from actual crap in the digestive process, actually). Every time I defrost a batch, my dad starts gagging. But the dogs go freakin’ nuts for it.

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Tuesday, October 07, 2008

The Big Whine

I haven’t posted because I’m waiting for a point where posting wouldn’t be just a big stinky stack of whining. Well, it’s not going to happen. So let the whining commence:

- the dog tore her cruciate ligament in her knee. Statistically speaking, the surgery supposedly has decent results. Anecdotally, however (now I know why my vet told me not to check the Internet), it seems like a wholly unnecessary, and often harmful, not to mention ridiculously expensive surgery that could or could not lead to suffering and death. I LOVE decisions like these.

- Trev and I have started working out so, yeah, I hurt all the time. And yet I still have to lie down on the bed to get my jeans done up, and then I spend the day feeling like my lower extremities are being cinched off from blood supply.

- My face rejected the move to the prairies. My cheeks are scaly and raw and my eyelids might actually fall off. So I can’t wear makeup. I now look as old and tired as I feel.

- Work. I don’t / won’t / can’t talk about it. Just know it needs to be on this list.

Now that I’ve whined, maybe I’ve crossed some cosmic barrier and the good shall flow forth.

Meanwhile, this is what a dog looks like hopped up on morphine:

This is what our new bed looks like. I do like it very much:

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