Not That Unusual

While slicing some lemon today, a small slice hit the floor. Nothing major. Except the four-footed one was faster to reach it, thankfully there was no peel or pith on it. I was pretty sure she’d spit it out after she put it in her mouth, but nope. She ate it. And looked up waiting for more.

Some dogs are like that…they shouldn’t like certain things, it’s not their normal taste, but some of them defy the rules. The four-footed one is a girl to defy the rules. From consuming citrus to insisting on being carried, she never ceases to go against the rules.

It could just be because she doesn’t see herself as a dog. She believes she is a human, or at least does things like a human. From sleeping in a bed to sitting in a chair to not enjoying other dogs. Is that my doing or is that her nature? Sometimes I wonder if I have had that big of an impact upon her. Other times I wonder if she is just naturally prone to mimicking what she sees around her, which for the most part is myself and other people. And then again, maybe, just maybe, she is a bit weird.

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To Spa Or Not Spa

The four-footed one went to the spa today.  Okay not really.  She went to the groomers, we just tell her it’s a spa day because, well I’m not sure why, but we do.

She got a bath, her fur was cut, styled and spritzed.  Her nails were trimmed and filed and a bow was fastened to her collar on  her neck.  In other words she had the works. She was splurged upon and pampered and managed to hate every single minute of it, or so they told us.

Upon arriving home she made a straight path to her toys spread out on the floor where she proceeded to roll on them.  After that it was a repeat performance of the rolling with an addition of artistic a slides, through the grass.  Her piece deresistence was finding the remains of a mud puddle to roll in.

Clearly she wasn’t enjoying the scent from the groomers regardless of what we told her.  She managed to undo the cleaning, the fresh smell,the fancy styling in under an hour.  Oh well,at least her furrow cut and her nails were trimmed.  After all spa days aren’t for everyone, ask me, I know.

To Chair Or Not To Chair

I never sit on examination beds in the doctor’s office thank you very much. No matter how many times well-meaning nurses suggest I “hop up on the table” I never do. I’m perfectly capable of sitting in a chair if it’s all the same. My doctors all know this; one of them even understands my aversion to being on an examination bed for dealing with lab results, medications and such.

Today I had the pleasure of educating a new nurse about my lack of willingness to pop up on the bed when she asked me to. I explained to her there was no need, but she insisted that is where a patient belongs when she is seeing the doctor. I patiently explained to her that we were reviewing lab results and would be doing so from the chairs, plus this saved her from having to change the stupid paper covering after my visit.

She was a determined young thing. She insisted. She threatened that the doctor wouldn’t see me if I didn’t cooperate. She even said she’d have me removed from the office and from being his patient. Because I wouldn’t sit on the bed. Now I get it would have probably been easier to just hop up for this one time and get on with things. Except the principle of it all.

Finally in a fit of exasperation, I asked her if she was chronically ill. With a mild sneer she said no she wasn’t, or she wouldn’t be working in his office. So I explained that being chronically ill meant way too many opportunities to hop up on the silly little bed thing. That once and awhile a chronically ill patient wants to be seen as a normal human being. Not sickly, or unwell. So when it wasn’t warranted, I simply did not “hop up” and wait for the doc.

It was at this point that my doctor walked in wondering what was taking so long and where the heck my chart was. He knew I was in the room, he thought the nurse had wandered off with my chart. Instead he popped in to hear me explaining that I would sit in the chair because this visit was a “chair” visit. After he greeted me, he assured her it was in fact a chair visit and he gently took the chart out of her hand.

After the appointment the nurse was standing near the reception desk, which is where I needed to go to make a follow-up appointment. She stared at me until I thought she would burn holes in my body. She loudly told another nurse how she had “never been treated so rudely from just a patient”. It was the “just a patient” part that got me. I’m not just a patient. No one is. To consider me as a “thing” that was to be tolerated was too much. Thankfully the other nurse provided the education this time while I booked my appointment with the receptionist who was apologizing all over the place. Of course both the receptionist and the other nurse not only do I sit in chairs, I have a backbone and will speak my mind if I feel it is warranted.

Something She Rolled In

My neighbor is a very industrious sort of soul. He is constantly taking care of his lawn, his garden and his house. I have never seen someone so dedicated to maintaining the appearance of his place to the point where grass near the sidewalk that was missed by the mower will be hand cut with scissors. It’s a sight to behold!

Today he was doing some major, deep raking of his lawn. Given how lush and green it looks, I was surprised that he had any dead in the grass at all. But there is was a small pile of dead grass. Calling to the four-footed one. Demanding that she roll in his nice pile that he hadn’t gotten around to picking up just quite yet.

So she rolled while I was talking with my neighbor’s wife. I had no clue what was happening until she started to giggle. At which point I glanced over and discovered that the four-footed one was now wearing a grass blanket upon her back. She was looking rather pleased with herself.

Naturally I offered to clean up the now spread out pile, but the wife assured me not to worry, it gave her husband something else to do. And he’s probably take a soft brush to the four-footed one’s coat as well to ensure she didn’t bring any of the grass in the house. And that’s exactly what happened, as well as an offer to take care of the trampled spots on my front lawn.

It’s A Numbers Game

I should let it be known, again, that I am deathly allergic to math. I start to sweat, my knees grow weak, my throat swells up and my brain flees the confines of my skull when I am exposed to the stuff. However over the years I have developed coping skills so I can be around the basic math. Once fractions come out I start to feel shaky and I know better than to push my luck.

Imagine my surprise when I signed up for an online course working with software, not developing it, and within the introduction, the facilitator cheerfully announced that we would be using our math skills. Beyond the basics even. Stuff like trains traveling on different tracks leaving at different times and having different speeds was the beginning point of the math.

As the introduction continued the facilitator happily announced the need for understanding calculus because of course that’s an every day use right there. By this point sweat started to form, cold chills left me shaking and if I had to stand up I knew my knees would give way. The question became one of survival, did I stay signed into the class and attempt to use my weak coping skills with math or did I do the smart thing and leave before I killed myself with too much exposure?

I stayed in the class thinking that surely I’d have a firm grasp of how and when to apply my coping skills. Except I don’t. Because you start talking in math terms and I start to feel my throat close up while my brain searches for the nearest exit. But I will stay in the class if for nothing else than that I should get a bit better coping with these horrible confrontations!

Pushing Along

I read a book about a person who did a solo trip to the Antarctic and all I could think of is why. Why would you put yourself through that kind of risk? Why did this idea even pop into the person’s head in the first place? And why didn’t I ever push myself like that before?

On one hand I can not imagine wanting to put myself so out there that if something went really wrong there was little to no way to get help. But on the other hand, what a marvelous way to not only push yourself, but really get to know your own weakness and strengths (obviously before you start out on the journey and then once on the journey simply grow them out).

There is something to be said about self-sufficiency and knowing you have pushed yourself as hard as you can. There is also something to be said about feeling you are in a much larger space, wide open and for the most part untouched by millions of people. (I should mention that again, the cold and I are not good friends, so this might not be the ideal trek for me.)

I can honestly say I’ve never put myself that far out on the line. I’ve never had my entire life and death in my hand and having to trust in myself to that degree. I’ve also never pushed myself that hard or under those types of conditions. Would I be a different person if I had? Maybe.

But a friend reminded me that there are days when I struggle to get up and moving around. There are days when lupus seems to be my version of climbing a mountain or going to the Antarctic all on my own because in some ways lupus is very much your own individual challenge. And so maybe, in my own small way, I have pushed myself somewhat that hard. Just not exposed to the cold and the frostbite or the total loneliness. Or the life and death situations etc. Besides, I’m not the kind of girl who can go that long without a decent cup of coffee, running hot water and indoor plumbing so yeah that’s why I haven’t pushed myself that hard!

Simply Cooking

One of these days I will learn. I will learn not to think that the simple looking recipe so red simple or quick.  I spent all day making what looks like a simple set of meals for work week lunches.

All I had to do was cook some quinoa, roast some tomatillos and sweet potato, grill a chicken and slice an avocado.  Yep that’s it.  Oh and mix up some spices.  Sounds super easy and quick right?  Shouldn’t be an all day event right?

Something like that should allow plenty of time for other things, like grading papers, doing the laundry and playing with the four-footed one.  But.  But it didn’t work out that way.  While the quinoa was cooking I prepared and roasted the veggies.  And played with my four-footed companion.  I mixed spices and grilled chicken while dodging leaps and tail wagging.  I sliced avocado in time with yips and woofs.

And the day somehow slipped away.  Sure the laundryman aged to be finished and dishes washed.  Grading papers had to come afterwards.  After packing lunches, cleaning up and such it was time for a long walk.  After that it was time for playing.  And then finally it was time to grade papers.  While the four-footed one slept on my feet.

So after all of that’s why is it that I find myself looking at more recipes which seem quick, but will probably te the whole day.  It could be my preparation methods, or my helped in the kitchen.  Any way I’m sure it will happen again!