Invisible People

I went through the drive through at McDonald's on the way to work today. I got my standard breakfast of champions. Cindy was in the window as she is most mornings. I try very hard to exchange polite greetings with her through my sleep deprived state.

Sometimes we engage briefly. When the line is long or people are taking too much time, she tells me to have a great day and continues her work.

I can imagine that her job is filled with grumpy coffee cravers who pay her no mind. She is a means to an end rather than a person  with needs and dreams. I wonder if she feels invisible........ like nobody really sees her in that window. They just want coffee and egg sandwiches as quickly as possible.

Today was different. There was no line. So when I asked her if she had a good holiday, I learned more about Cindy than I ever thought possible. She told me about her children, their partners, and her grandchildren.

Some of them live with her. They were all together for Christmas in rather close quarters. All her grandchildren are under the age of 8. One of her sons  has partial custody of his children.  Her son's fiance doesn't like her much. She has no idea why. She wishes that she made enough money to put her grandchildren in nice preschools. In spite of that,  she thinks the kids do OK anyway.

I probably listened to her for 7-8 minutes until we the saw the bag with my burrito in it being impatiently flagged out the pick up window. She stopped talking for a second, thanked me for asking, and told me to have a great day like she always does. What I noticed was how excited Cindy was for getting to share 7 minutes of her life with someone she barely knows but who was willing to listen. The thing is that it really was my pleasure to talk to her. She is still in the window at the drive through and now I know her. Visible!! And she knows me! Visible!

We all know what it's like to feel invisible, dismissed by someone we care about, unheard by a boss, uninvited by a peer, disconnected from our neighbors, ignored when you need help the most. Deny it if you like, and I would be shocked to find one human being who can say they have never felt invisible.

Are we not all striving to be visible?  In this quest, we forget the other invisibles around us. If we all lived our lives in a such a manner that nobody was ever invisible to us, what would that look like? What would the world be like if we all connected? Would that make us more visible to others? Conduct your own experiment. Tell the world what happens.

Dear Mr. Claus:

I don't really remember writing a letter to Santa Claus. I suppose I did it once. These days by the time most kids can write, the secret is out. I recall making lists of things I wanted and at least pretending to ask Santa for those things. Sometimes I got what I requested, sometimes I didn't. My parents did the best they could to make Christmas fun for my sisters and me.

If there really was a magical Santa Claus, this is what I would write to him:

Dear Mr. Claus,

I apologize for my lack of communication over the last 40 years. Somebody told me you weren't real, and unfortunately for both of us, I believed it to be true. I have since discovered that reality is mostly made up. So I am choosing a new path for this relationship, a path paved in belief and completely NOT contingent on truth.

I suppose I could  say I have been good this year;  however, the definition of "good" is rather subjective. What qualifies as good? If I behave well on the outside, and in my head and heart have no love for anyone or anything, was I good or bad?   To be honest, I rarely make my bed or vacuum the carpet which could be construed as being bad.  I think you might like to give some thought to how you define "good".  The fact is that I have done my dead level best to be responsible, and whether or not I have been good I can't really define. Have you thought about sending out some guidelines?

As a child, asking for what I wanted was easy. I had no idea what disappointment was, and I believed I deserved everything I wanted. All grown up, it's not so easy to ask. The voice in my head talks me out of deserving or expecting anything. Today, I won't let that voice win. My requests follow.

1.I have a friend that needs a kidney. I would give one up for her and  I can't qualify. I understand the ramifications of this request, the whole circle of life thing. I get that. So I rely on your magic more than science. I want my friend to live a really long time. She deserves it and so does the world she impacts. Maybe you could spare one yourself?

2. Please, make it possible for me to see my family more often. I miss them sometimes. Especially this time of year. Not too often, mind you, just enough for me not to feel like a foreigner. Maybe you loan me your transportation system a few times a year?

3. Can you please make it stop raining in the kitchen? I would love a roof that works. It doesn't have to be brand new. I would be super satisfied with a gently used roof as long as it didn't leak.

 4. Lastly I ask for a big dose of hope. In fact, if you can make that happen, I would forego the other stuff. Sometimes, I  have a hard time manufacturing it for myself. So having some in reserve would be so useful. I don't care how you package it or what it tastes like. If it's a pill I would swallow it or a drink I would gulp it up. Maybe, it could be something I wear or carry around in my sock.  And when life gets insane,  in that minute when I think there is none, I could just take a little of it with a side of Oreos and keep moving.

Thanks for taking time from your busy schedule to read my letter. May your deliveries go well this year. And if you need anything, please let me know. I am a great cook and can leave out much more than cookies and milk.

Sincerely,
Laura

P.S. The dogs will bark.  Throw them some biscuits that I will leave by the door and  they will shut up and love you.

2013, Sonic, Casey (RIP) , Pi

2014 , Pi 

2015, Sonic and Pi

Thank You Ms. McFarland ... Where ever you are.......

My high school English teacher was a tough cookie. The rumor was that Ms. McFarland never gave anyone an A. I was not the exception to this rule. I scored a few A's on some papers but overall, even super students like myself failed to win over Ms.McFarland.

Ms. McFarland's commitment was that nobody left her Sr. English class without the ability to put a few paragraphs together without sounding like an idiot. She forced a group of "so done" high school Sr.class to read the worst classic literature ever written and vomit up analytical papers on the significance of such loathed literature. As a student, it never occurred to me why in the world she would have us read Barn Burning, A Rose for Emily, The Cask of Amontillado, or the ever horrid Fall of the House of Usher.  Why, oh why, Ms. McFarland would you have innocent high school kids read this stuff? I could not have cared less about Abner Snopes' outcomes or Fortunato's fate.

I hear her rantings about spelling and punctuation in my sleep sometimes. 

"There is A RAT is separate!!" she would declare. I never misspell this word. 

"A lot is two words, people, not one. " She would scrawl it on the chalkboard in giant letters. 

A  LOT

"Semi-colons and colons are not the same!! Colons are for lists. Lists, people, lists."

In spite of her scowls over the top of her of glasses, I liked her. She taught me to read unusual styles of writing with a critical slant, to embrace the English vocabulary, and to write without looking like an idiot. While my peers struggled through English 101, I thought it was a cake walk because Ms. McFarland had already taught me what I needed to know to survive. As a bonus, I got a great love for reading and writing!

I propose a year end toast to the teachers in our lives who gave us a skill or two which keep us from looking like idiots. And another toast for instilling in you something you love.

Thanks Ms. McFarland.......... where ever you are!!
lw

For some of you younger readers who have yet to suffer through this literature, I added some links for your informational pleasure.
Abner Snopes
A Rose for Emily
Cask of Amontadillo
House of Usher

Granny Was Not a Great Cook

It's been a while since I posted. I decided to share a story that I  wrote in the birthday card of good friend recently. It's a grandmother story, and who doesn't love a grandmother story?

My grandmother, who I called Granny, lived in West Virginia while I was being raised in Texas. As a result, I didn't see her often.  A few weeks vacation every summer until I was a teen and maybe another week around some holiday was what there was. 

We didn't have cell phones or e-mail back then.  A few expensive long distance calls were allowed around birthdays and holiday. So we didn't talk often and I don't feel like she knew me very well. In spite of this, upon arrival, my Granny would hug me and mutter something about how big I was getting (until I was too old to tolerate that) . Sometimes she would grab my face and kiss me on the head ( again until I was too old to tolerate it.) 

While I didn't get a ton of time with Granny, from the little time we had, three things became apparent:

1. Granny's cooking was awful. We were happy for the store cookies or a box mac and cheese.

2. Her Christmas gifts were sometimes shocking. When I was really young I would get upset about the terrible gifts I got, thinking Granny must not like me much. My mother would smooth it over by explaining that Granny didn't know me that well or that she sometimes forgot how old I was. By the time I was a teen, our family competed to see who could get the worst Granny gift.

3. She loved me. Even though she didn't know me that well, I was FAM, so I got loved in automatically. It was done deal....... even when I was a cranky teen. Didn't matter. Loved in automatically.

One time my Granny mentioned to me something about her pastor. She was quite complimentary of him as he had be generous to her family in some times of great stress. I don't remember the situation really only that she had said that she was "beholdin" to Pastor for his help when Grandpa was ill or something. I had not heard the word beholdin' . It was not a word that we used in Texas. Maybe it was a West Virginia word. Anyhow, I asked her what it meant. She told me it was being really grateful combined with  "I owe you one." She said the key was that the person you "owed one" would never see it that way. That person just did what they did. Maybe they thought they were doing something good or needed or just the right thing. It didn't matter why to her.  

If you are really lucky you will have at least one friend in your lifetime that gets loved in automatically like FAM, even if......... Oh it doesn't matter. Maybe that friend will have changed your world somehow and your grateful heart will leave you beholdin' to them. Take heart is knowing that your friend probably doesn't see it that way. `

Lucky me! I have more than one person like this in my life. They know who they are. 

lw

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!