This is the first in what is likely to be a large group of musings about a subject very dear to my heart: dogs...in particular Schipperkes. I've had at least one of these wonderful dogs in my life since June 1984. The posts will not be in any chronological order... but I'll share things as they come to mind.
Jack is our current Schipperke. We adopted him from Ohio Schipperke Rescue on November 21, 2008. That adoption almost didn't take place.
Our last Schipperke female, Israel, had to be put to sleep on September 26, 2008 at the age of 12. I was devastated. She was the last in a long line of Schipperkes from the Kingfisher line that I'd had since 1996. I love Duke, our German Shorthaired Pointer, but I am a Schipperke lover to the core. There's just not another breed of dog that speaks to my spirit and heart like a Schip.
I had been watching the adoption websites for some time. I had wanted to get another Schip before Israel became ill. Our Ohio Schip rescue was empty at the time. I kept searching and found a wonderful rescue organization in Iowa called "Fluffy Butts Rescue Resort". FB had a Schipperke male named "Edgar". His photo just broke my heart. Long story short, 2 weeks after Israel died, we drove to Iowa to adopt Edgar.
Edgar was a beautiful boy, very shy, almost feral in behavior. We had him three weeks when he ran out the door on Beggars Night---never to be seen again. He was microchipped, had on ID -- everything-- but in spite of every effort to locate him, he has never been found.
I was again devastated. I felt sad and guilty about Edgar, and was again without that special Schipperke "something" in my life. The head of Ohio Schipperke Rescue (OSR) had been helping with the search for Edgar, so knew our situation. She asked if we'd be willing to provide a foster home for a 2 year old Schip male named "Jack". We drove to Ashville Nov 21 to meet Jack.
After 2 seconds with Jack, I was in love with him. My husband David could see that this wasn't going to be a foster situation, we simply adopted Jack that day.
Dr Q. of OSR said that Jack and a female schip had been left, tied up outside a no-kill shelter. She had received a phone call from a man a few weeks before that who said that he had 2 Schipperkes he was having to give up.
The female had already been adopted. Even then, my heart just ached for the people who had to give these dogs up. From the very start, Jack was a very loving little dog. A little shy, a little fearful, but with a beautiful heart and spirit.
Duke and Jack hit it off beautifully. Unlike Israel and Obi who were quite elderly when Duke got to know them, Jack is a young dog, full of energy and playfulness. Jack has really brought out the puppy in Duke -- who isn't young himself---he's almost 10. The two of them are a riot to watch, especially when 70-pound Duke imitates the play bow/ behavior of 16 pound Jack.
Schipperkes do a funny thing a Facebook friend of mine calls the "rippy romps". They like to run, jump, spin around, tear around at top speed from one end of the house to the other. Jack has taught Duke the rippy romps, an it's hysterical. They are best of friends. Having Jack as a companion has been wonderful for Duke.
As Schipperkes go, Jack is very typical of the breed. Curious, active, always looking for something to do, and very playful. He's very, very smart. He can be stubborn and willful, but is always so cute when being that way. His confirmation is good, but whoever docked his tail did it incorrectly. It's too long, and there's one area of about 10 hairs that are longer than the rest. It gives his rear an odd appearance, but a distinctive one. The tail says that he was not bred by a true Schip lover /breeder---who would have seen to it that the docking was done correctly. He's probably a puppy mill dog who was purchased at a pet store...but he is a Schipperke, through and through. I love him dearly.
In all the toughest times of my life, I've had the Lord and at least one fine dog to walk with me. I've never had any serious health issues until this year, 2010. Being diagnosed with both lung and breast cancer was something that totally surprised David and me, and set our world spinning. Jack and Duke are the dogs for this journey. The provide us both with unconditional love --- and exellent antics and entertainment to lift our spirits.
Since coming home from the hospital, Jack has been my shadow. When I'm on the recliner, he'll come up for some cuddle and a nap, or cuddle and then go off to chew a toy. If he's not with me on the chair, when he hears me put the footrest down to get up, he's at my side in a flash. He will then stay with me while I walk to the kitchen or the bathroom... right with me until I'm back in the chair. At night, he sleeps in his own bed next to Duke. If I get up in the night, he gets up with me, follows me, and only goes back to his bed once I am back in mine.
He seems to know that I am not feeling well, and that his presence gives me comfort. He just sits with me and waits. He doesn't push for petting or attention (as he might at other times). He's still and patient as he watches me. He watches and waits. When I'm settled in again, breathing quietly, he'll go off to play or nap...always listening for the sound of me moving, his cue to return.
What a wonderful little fella. He's brought a special happy, loving energy to our home. He's brought joy and playfulness to an older dog who was an "only" dog for years. When I think of the people who had to give him up, I just pray that they know that he is in a home with people who love him and cherish him. Bless them for taking him to a no-kill shelter. I pray that someday their circumstances will allow them the joy of having a dog like Jack again.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Three weeks post op: Pneumopenic Peg - thoughts on pain
The last three weeks are a blur. After getting discharged on June 12, I landed back in the hospital on June 15 with terrible /terrifying pain. I'm no wuss--this was really bad. They got me squared around on a new medication regimen and discharged me 2 days later.
The whole subject of pain and pain management is a tricky one in medical circles. I have seen my fair share of drug-seekers, putting on performances worthy of an Oscar trying to get a script for narcs. I have seen people in real pain, too. I see people everyday who probably do have some legitimate discomfort, who just accept it as part of life. Then there are those that believe that they should be completely pain free, all of the time.
June 15 I was in real pain: it hurt just to breathe. I couldn't get comfortable in any position- sitting, standing or lying down. The waves of pain came, causing me to cry and cry out. It was excruciating. I squeezed my poor husband's hand with a death grip, trying to connect with him and get away from my body. It was terrible. My blood pressure was 170 -180 over 100s.
They eventually got things under control, changed some meds, and I've been able to manage the pain adequately at home with oral meds. This pain experience was nothing like anything else I've ever known. Pain is a very personal and subjective experience, and we as health care providers are not to judge a patient when he/she complains of pain.
Legitimate pain needs to be managed and controlled to the best of our ability. This does not mean the patietnt will be entirely free all pain. When confronted with a drug seeker, we must be even more aggressive in leading those patients to chemical dependency programs.
The medications I'm taking right now have a terrible reputation in the news media as drugs of abuse. They are effective drugs for serious pain, that must be prescribed and taken with utmost respect. I personally will be glad to get off of them because the side effects are unpleasant.
This is another valuable lesson I've learned: what severe physical pain is. Luckily, I've gotten good care and good control, and the severest of the pain did not last a long time. A lesson from the university of life: to make me a better clinician, more compassionate care provider and human being.
The whole subject of pain and pain management is a tricky one in medical circles. I have seen my fair share of drug-seekers, putting on performances worthy of an Oscar trying to get a script for narcs. I have seen people in real pain, too. I see people everyday who probably do have some legitimate discomfort, who just accept it as part of life. Then there are those that believe that they should be completely pain free, all of the time.
June 15 I was in real pain: it hurt just to breathe. I couldn't get comfortable in any position- sitting, standing or lying down. The waves of pain came, causing me to cry and cry out. It was excruciating. I squeezed my poor husband's hand with a death grip, trying to connect with him and get away from my body. It was terrible. My blood pressure was 170 -180 over 100s.
They eventually got things under control, changed some meds, and I've been able to manage the pain adequately at home with oral meds. This pain experience was nothing like anything else I've ever known. Pain is a very personal and subjective experience, and we as health care providers are not to judge a patient when he/she complains of pain.
Legitimate pain needs to be managed and controlled to the best of our ability. This does not mean the patietnt will be entirely free all pain. When confronted with a drug seeker, we must be even more aggressive in leading those patients to chemical dependency programs.
The medications I'm taking right now have a terrible reputation in the news media as drugs of abuse. They are effective drugs for serious pain, that must be prescribed and taken with utmost respect. I personally will be glad to get off of them because the side effects are unpleasant.
This is another valuable lesson I've learned: what severe physical pain is. Luckily, I've gotten good care and good control, and the severest of the pain did not last a long time. A lesson from the university of life: to make me a better clinician, more compassionate care provider and human being.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Second Saturday
Two dear young friends of ours got married today up in Fredricktown. There was no way I could have gone. I've gotten several texts about how nice it was. We wish them well -- wholeheartedly.
Still struggling to find a balance between pain that I can tolerate and pain that brings tears and an inability to breathe. It's too hot and humid for me to go outside for more than 5 minutes.
I've been shopping online for a laptop weighing about 5 pounds that I can easily handle. This big one is heavy and hard to hold in any and every position.
I really want to take this time to write all those short stories I've been sitting on all these years. With any luck I'll be able to start this week.
Still struggling to find a balance between pain that I can tolerate and pain that brings tears and an inability to breathe. It's too hot and humid for me to go outside for more than 5 minutes.
I've been shopping online for a laptop weighing about 5 pounds that I can easily handle. This big one is heavy and hard to hold in any and every position.
I really want to take this time to write all those short stories I've been sitting on all these years. With any luck I'll be able to start this week.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
First full day home after surgery (or thank God for pain meds)
Sunday June 13, 2010. Started out OK. I had more sleep on our old Value-City 1996 era recliner than I did in the hospital. Sleeping on any form of plastic, with just a thin sheet between your skin and the plastic, has NEVER been a good combination for nocturnal comfort. The mattress AND the pillows. All plastic. Enough to make Nanuk of the North sweat in his sleep. So, imnagine further with me now: a typically too-warm hospital room, outfitted thusly, bring in a very perimenopausal 51 year old female...amd you have all the ingredients present for quite a spectactular meltdown, if not all-out spontaneous combustion.
So-- at least here at home, lots of cotton, a fan, airconditioning and the opportunity to remove clothing as needed without worrying about hourly or bi-hourly visits from myriad staff members checking vitals. Here at home I can stand up and walk to the bathroon without most of the bedding stuck to my behind, trailing like the finest wedding couture. Oh, my.
The pain meds are something else. Oh, I suppose they work well enough...but I don't understand that there are people who take this stuff for "fun"! It makes me very sleepy and slightley incoherent. I'm nodding off now. So much for being bored and wanting to read. I'm not able to stay alert enough to read for very long.
I still have episodes of excruciating pain in spite of all the pain meds. Gives me a whole new perspective on the patient with legitimate pain issues.....and also on those who are just trying to get these drugs for "fun". Head nodding. Will continue soon.
So-- at least here at home, lots of cotton, a fan, airconditioning and the opportunity to remove clothing as needed without worrying about hourly or bi-hourly visits from myriad staff members checking vitals. Here at home I can stand up and walk to the bathroon without most of the bedding stuck to my behind, trailing like the finest wedding couture. Oh, my.
The pain meds are something else. Oh, I suppose they work well enough...but I don't understand that there are people who take this stuff for "fun"! It makes me very sleepy and slightley incoherent. I'm nodding off now. So much for being bored and wanting to read. I'm not able to stay alert enough to read for very long.
I still have episodes of excruciating pain in spite of all the pain meds. Gives me a whole new perspective on the patient with legitimate pain issues.....and also on those who are just trying to get these drugs for "fun". Head nodding. Will continue soon.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
No problems, only new adventures...
May 2010 just wasn't a great month for me. I went from being a happy, healthy (albeit a bit overweight), active 51 year old woman to being a cancer patient. And not just one, but two different cancers...in different places....but at the same time. Lung cancer, left lung. Workup for lung surgery showed breast cancer --also left side.
Not all my blog posts will be this serious. I've got some fun and some serious stories I'd like to share. These next few weeks I will finally have time to write them down.
The morning of Friday April 30, the day of the chest x-ray that started all this, I behaved badly. Hubby David has so much more vacation time stored up than I do...I was feeling jealous. I was feeling overwhelmed at work. My right arm had been hurting for months David was getting in all this time on the bike, and I wasn't. He'd had some really good rides, some real distances and was rightfully proud of it and excited about riding. I said some not-so-nice things to him that morning.
Did the chest x-ray after getting to work, then saw my patients. Later that afternoon, I read the x-ray report: a 3.5cm mass in the left lung. Suddenly, my pettiness of that morning seemed pathetically out of place.
May was a whirlwind of tests, imaging, biopsies, bronchoscopies and doctor appointments. Tomorrow, I go in for surgery to remove part of, if not all of my left lung. Kinda makes missing a few bike rides seem like nothing to worry about.
I've been griping and moaning for months about not having any time to really read a book...or write anything. I read 2 pages at night and I'm asleep. After this surgery, I have to be off work for 4 to 6 weeks. I'm going to have scads of time to read, right, sleep, talk on the phone, FB, blog....whatever.
I've never had a major surgery. In 2005, my deviated septum was fixed -- outpatient surgery. The NEXT DAY I was out riding my bicycle and did 30 miles. If I'm going to feel miserable, better on the bike that sitting around home.
Don't that will be the case this time. The old bod's going to have to adjust to less lung, less oxygenation...they say that over time the body adapts. I know about liver disease...lungs are not my thing. I am very uncertain what to expect. My heart and breathing tests came out better than expected for a woman my age. Hopefully, I'll adapt quickly.
What if this cancer diagnosis is actually a GIFT? The Lord is already working on me and in the lives of those around me. How is He going to use this experience to shape me, to change me...so that I can serve Him better? I've seen Him use really ugly circumstances for my good--- He got me through, and led me to use those experiences for growth and good. Why should this be any different?
I must follow my own advice to my patients: no, you will never be the same, your health will never be what is was 20 years ago. Your life will change. It will be different, but it can still be good. Finding a new "normal" can be difficult.
I pray that I have the grace to find and accept my new normal, and the strength and grace to make it as good as it can possibly be...to joyfully serve the Lord with my husband for the time we are given.
Not all my blog posts will be this serious. I've got some fun and some serious stories I'd like to share. These next few weeks I will finally have time to write them down.
The morning of Friday April 30, the day of the chest x-ray that started all this, I behaved badly. Hubby David has so much more vacation time stored up than I do...I was feeling jealous. I was feeling overwhelmed at work. My right arm had been hurting for months David was getting in all this time on the bike, and I wasn't. He'd had some really good rides, some real distances and was rightfully proud of it and excited about riding. I said some not-so-nice things to him that morning.
Did the chest x-ray after getting to work, then saw my patients. Later that afternoon, I read the x-ray report: a 3.5cm mass in the left lung. Suddenly, my pettiness of that morning seemed pathetically out of place.
May was a whirlwind of tests, imaging, biopsies, bronchoscopies and doctor appointments. Tomorrow, I go in for surgery to remove part of, if not all of my left lung. Kinda makes missing a few bike rides seem like nothing to worry about.
I've been griping and moaning for months about not having any time to really read a book...or write anything. I read 2 pages at night and I'm asleep. After this surgery, I have to be off work for 4 to 6 weeks. I'm going to have scads of time to read, right, sleep, talk on the phone, FB, blog....whatever.
I've never had a major surgery. In 2005, my deviated septum was fixed -- outpatient surgery. The NEXT DAY I was out riding my bicycle and did 30 miles. If I'm going to feel miserable, better on the bike that sitting around home.
Don't that will be the case this time. The old bod's going to have to adjust to less lung, less oxygenation...they say that over time the body adapts. I know about liver disease...lungs are not my thing. I am very uncertain what to expect. My heart and breathing tests came out better than expected for a woman my age. Hopefully, I'll adapt quickly.
What if this cancer diagnosis is actually a GIFT? The Lord is already working on me and in the lives of those around me. How is He going to use this experience to shape me, to change me...so that I can serve Him better? I've seen Him use really ugly circumstances for my good--- He got me through, and led me to use those experiences for growth and good. Why should this be any different?
I must follow my own advice to my patients: no, you will never be the same, your health will never be what is was 20 years ago. Your life will change. It will be different, but it can still be good. Finding a new "normal" can be difficult.
I pray that I have the grace to find and accept my new normal, and the strength and grace to make it as good as it can possibly be...to joyfully serve the Lord with my husband for the time we are given.
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