Happy Half

I survived my birthday. Three times I survived it. Once at work. Again with teammates. One more time in a park with a good friend and the dogs.

I already talked about the work birthday in an earlier post. I worked to make it unique and it was.

The second birthday happened Memorial Day weekend at a flyball tournament. My teammates decorated our crating area with a Hawaiian theme, provided some fairly loaded jungle juice, and cake. They gave me wonderful gifts of T-shirts celebrating my dogs, a beautiful wrist watch, and wonderful humorous cards.

My dog finally received the awesome Grand Champion plaque that he earned last fall. When his name was announced he received the loudest applause for all the dogs in his category. As a bonus my teammate dragged me in front of everyone and had them sing the dreaded birthday song. While it was a bit embarrassing, I survived it without crying, getting angry, or feeling sorry for myself. I was thankful for the acknowledgement.

Running a team of dog handlers is never simple. I don't expect a ton of wins considering the dogs we have, but I do expect them to work together, support the dogs, and pay attention. Sometimes I can be pretty tough on them when it's all falling apart. In spite of those moments, I love them! I have been with other clubs and other players. It was fun, and they weren't MY team. While they certainly gave me a little bit of hard time, I was honored and it was awesome.

The bonus triple header was provided by very unique friend who couldn't make it to the tournament. (An "I'll make it up to you" opportunity. ) She's a very busy person with more irons in the fire than anyone I know. She wanted to take me on a picnic but of course lots of "stuff" got in the way. Finally, she agreed on a time and place and said she would bring me dessert. When she arrived with a bag of "picnic food" and her wonder dog, I was excited to see her. What she dumped on the picnic table made me chuckle. A pile of cookies of every flavor, cracker jacks, jerky, M &M's and two Cokes.  I asked her if she had just bought out the Arco Station.

I suppose I could have been disappointed to be served stuff from the am/pm, and I wasn't. I knew her intentions were to celebrate and acknowledge me. Time got away and she did what she had time to do. So I ate cookies! I enjoyed the park, and the dogs, and my wonderful friend's company.

Last year my birthday sucked. I had the customary embarrassment cake at work and then went home to drink beer all alone. It was stupid and lonely and meaningless and empty.  I promised myself I would not live that again. The key to it all was openness.  I shared with the people in my life what I wanted and let them create it around me. I won't ever forget it.

If you want to sit home alone on your birthday, don't tell anyone it's your day............I can guarantee that you won't get what you don't ask for.

peace!
lw

Tater Life

Did you ever consider mashed potatoes?  Everyone loves mashed potatoes. Kids love them. Older people love them. Dogs love them too.( I don't know about cats. I haven't seen any cats eat mashed potatoes.)

People of my generation think of them as comfort food. I think of my mom at Thanksgiving forcing me to peel the potatoes for our yearly dinner. It was worth it. I always begged for seconds of mashies. I never asked for more salad or turkey.

Taters are inexpensive. Everyone has access to potatoes, and with minimal work, they are easily changed into the wonder bowl of mashies. They can be doctored up to taste great, served with gravy or cheese or ...... the list goes on forever. Or they can be plain and simple even soothing a sickly tummy. While everyone has a preference for how they are served, hardly anyone can say they hate mashed potatoes.

They go with everything. You could eat them with pot roast or waffles and with any meal of the day. In a way, you could call them the world's most reliable food.

The down side is, that no matter how you dress them up, they are still a side dish. Most people don't just eat a plain bowl of mashed potatoes without something else. When presented with a large meal, mashies are often part of the waste because there are better things on the plate. This starchy delight is perceived to take up too much room. So when everything can't be eaten, the potatoes (no matter how tasty) are often set aside or scraped into a dog's dish.

The one time I actually saw mashed potatoes become the main attraction was in Close Encounters of the Third Kind when Roy Neary tries to build the Devil's Tower from his mashed potatoes. In the end, Neary fails to form taters into tower and opts instead for dirt and garden materials. Tasty side dish loses to dirt!

Sometimes my life seems like a bowl of  mashed potatoes. A simple side dish that can show up in any situation. Reliable enough, but hardly regarded as an entree. Undervalued until, alas, there is nothing else available.

After pondering my sour cream loaded bowl, it occurs to me that the mashed tater people of the world are actually keeping it running. If everyone was a doctor, then we'd have no nurses or other medical professionals. If everyone was a lawyer, then we'd have no clerks or paralegals. In my case if all of us were veterinarians there would be no technicians in the trenches of animal medicine. If  we were all leaders, then who would be led. (Could go on forever with this analogy.)

Being  flexible, capable, reliable, and liked should be something that's valued. And we live in a world where it's often just not. I think that's a tragedy.

lw

Acknowledge some taters today!! 

The Power of Powerlessness

I knew she wasn’t well, but I had no idea of the power I would have over her in less than hour.  It’s taken me a while to write this story. I had to live with it for a while first.

Sasha’s health had not been great for months and she was over 14 years old. Her family had done everything we had asked them to do and more. Her visits were frequent for blood testing, physical exams, and prescription refills. The family had even consulted with a Traditional Chinese Medicine vet to get Chinese Herbs, acupuncture, and a special home prepared diet. She had been maintaining fairly well.

To me, Sasha wasn’t just some client’s old lab. She was the family pet of my team mate and friend.  My dogs play flyball with one of her dogs. Sasha was a rescue dog and  a sweetheart of a canine with a genuine love for life. My boys had spent time in her home with her. They were friends.

That morning she was depressed,  vomiting, and wouldn’t eat. She wandered around the exam room tired and weary. She plopped down on the floor while I was getting a doctor. Her family left her with us for rehydration and medicating, and she was transferred to the back of the clinic. I attempted to place a catheter but her BP was so low that I couldn’t get it.  Within half an hour her blood pressure dropped dangerously low and her respiration became desperate. She was crashing.

My doctor, manager, and I responded quickly and moved her to our oxygenating area, got the ET tube in, and got her on oxygen. The doctor told me to start CPR while our assistant used the anesthetic bag to keep her breathing.

This was the first time in my career that I actually used the CPR training on a pet. Even though I had been trained to do this (20 years ago I actually taught CPR for the Red Cross) , I certainly didn’t expect to ever have to use it.  It’s not like I work in the animal ER so I guess I just thought that it was “good to know” and I would probably never use it.  In fact, I had hoped I would never use it.

I had the power to keep Sasha’s heart beating and yet I felt powerless! If I stopped she would die, and I knew that I could only keep going for so long before I fatigued and failed. The assistant and I switched posts when he saw how tired I was becoming.  The doctor found the heartbeat again and we were told to stop CPR. She was back…….. 

I continued helping her breath. The doctor had time to call the family back to the clinic to make some decisions about her care and in this instance the family chose to bid farewell to a fine dog.  

It’s difficult not to replay this scenario over and over, thinking of everything I could have done. What if I had been able to set that catheter? What if I had told the family to take her to ER rather than come to my clinic? What if…… what if…….what if?  More powerlessness……….. and what if I had just freaked out and done nothing?

While we didn't fix Sasha that day, I have tried to focus on what happened and not on what didn’t.  I worked well with a great team of veterinary professionals. The doctor kept her head and led us well. We brought her back giving the family time to come and  say goodbye.  I was there for my friend and team mate.  While I certainly felt powerless for a period of time, I found power in the relationships.  While Sasha has slipped away to the great doggie diner in the sky, the relationships still are. And that gives me the desire and the power to continue.

If I ever need CPR someday and someone actually steps up to help me, I hope they will be able to reconcile the power of powerlessness. And if they can't, I hope they do the CPR anyway. 

Sasha: a really good dog.

R.I.P dear Sasha!