Matters of the Heart

I don't know if I made the right call. Don't know if what I did was the kind, responsible thing to do or the sentimental, ultimately pointless thing. Won't know for a while. Have a feeling the guilt and worry is going to bother me for longer.

Here's the thing: I love my animals. I'm generally a dog person, but I honestly love the vast majority of animals. Can't claim a strong affinity for rats, but I'm not out to get them either. Having said that, I am also a realist. I don't "baby" my pets in the stroller, outfits, and real bed sort of ways. I take the best care I can of them, but I also treat them like the animals they are. Reliable, caring, professional boarding? Absolutely. Doggie ice cream before bed and an armchair to sleep on? Um, no.

Bubba is sick. Really sick. It happened last night after supper -- fast. He was suddenly restless, drooling, breathing heavily, trying unsuccessfully to vomit. I felt his stomach and it seemed full of air. In the two minutes it took me to find the number for the emergency vet his abdomen had swelled a third more and was hard. By the time we got him to the vet he was already in shock. It was a classic case of bloat, the dreaded sudden condition which can cause death very quickly if not treated in time. X-ray, IV, tube down the throat... Boo and I served as the lab techs.

Bubba and his ducky

Today Bubba was transferred to the area critical care and surgical unit. Further tests showed a stomach which was twisted and folded over on itself. The only options were immediate surgery or euthanasia. Given the potential costs of surgery and after care, given the fact that Bubba is a mutt who is in the beginning stages of hip dysplasia and joint fractures, I wrestled with the decision. He's 7(ish; he was a rescue, so we don't know for sure). He may or may not be overcome with terrible pain from the other bone issues and need to be euthanised within a year or so anyway. He may have 5-6 years of good life ahead of him. And the money... The money is of course an issue. The vets were very sympathetic and supportive, but I had approximately 10 minutes to make the decision. I messaged furiously with Jasper. I prayed.

We opted for the surgery.

Because although the practical thing was euthanasia, my heart couldn't take it. This dog helped save me when I was at my worst post-op. This dog has helped walk off frustration, loved me when I wanted to be left alone, irritated me beyond measure occasionally, and always demanded that I care for him. Which has meant I couldn't sit around and be miserable all the time. Because when you take on the care of an animal, you have a responsibility to that animal. So even when the house was empty and all I wanted to do was sit and sob, I had to take Bubba for a walk. And that might not have physically saved my life (although the exercise surely didn't hurt!), it did help save my bigger, non-physical life. I owe him.

Which might all be sentimental drivel; I don't know right now. Oh, God. Forgive me if I've done the irresponsible thing!

Bubba is out of surgery but still in intensive care. We won't know if he's going to make it for a few more hours. I'm just hoping and praying for peace and the best thing for Bubba, whatever that is.

What Not to Wear, Redux

Listen. I've always had a bit of a funky edge to my dressing. Turquoise Chucks and prairie skirts, blue hair and curls, emerald green toenails and anything. Professionally, I generally keep things calm, and always try to dress appropriately. Now at age 44 and sporting a stoma, I'm having to redefine my style.

And I'm not really good at it. I've never been one to spend hours and hours on my clothes, hair, or make-up. Okay, truth time: I was a teen in the 80's. I spent HOURS on my hair. But for the rest, not really. I tend to wear what I like, what I'm comfortable wearing, and what works for whatever I'm doing at the moment. But many of my go-to standards don't work with the stoma: most jeans cut across it too close, belts are uncomfortable, sheath dresses allow too much of the bag to show, etc. So I've been looking a lot at different styles and options, wondering how to go about choosing a new look which I'm still comfortable wearing, can still funkify as needed, and which won't break the bank.

Did I mention I've been doing a lot of looking? Looking, but not buying. Because I hate shopping. Really, really hate shopping.

Yeah, I'm pretty much a Style Icon.

My idea of High Style...

The funny thing is this: I am more comfortable and happy living in my body now than I ever have been, stoma and beginning wrinkles and middle-aged thighs and all. Which means I am in a perfect position to respond to one of the Facebook Most Hated Shares from this week: "24 Things Women Should Stop Wearing After Age 30." (Or you could just check out this response at Warning: Curves Ahead, which is my favourite of the many already posted; language warning for those who are sensitive to that sort of thing.)

So here are some tongue-firmly-planted-in-cheek thoughts on 24 Things People Under 40 Should Never Wear, based (loosely) on the original article:

24. Vintage graphic tees: I don't care how hip you are, or how many stories you've heard or retrospectives you've watched. You weren't there, you don't get it. It's a 40+ thing. You can rip my "I'm a Pepper" tee off of my cold, dead body. (You'll have to dig through six feet of dirt and crack the coffin lid, because I intend to be buried in it.)

23. Um, the whole bedazzled thing. Pretty much anyone can pull this off if they have enough sass. Except for ignorant opinions about bedazzling, which really don't bedazzle me that much.

22. Blue eyeshadow: As mentioned above, I was a teen in the 80's. Don't even attempt to lecture me about blue eyeshadow, and don't ever think anyone can pull it off better than we did when we applied it while dancing to the B-52s.

21. Victoria's Secret Pink: Take your own advice, missy. I'll rock my not-so-grannyish Vanilla Blush stoma undies, thank you.

20. Leopard print: Only completely fabulous Elizabeth Taylor-esque women can pull off larger quantities of this off at any age. Mostly because she actually looked like a WOMAN at all her ages past 15. If you still resemble a cute girl-child, don't even think about a small dose of it.

19. I'm sorry, how much have you traveled? Because there are all sorts of sparkly, shiny pants all over the world which don't meet with the very US-centric vision presented. Please don't lecture an entire world population based on your very limited life experience. I think Queen Maxima pulls them off quite nicely, thank you.

18. Oversized sunglasses: Clown-sized sunglasses are not meant to be worn seriously, or even ironically. Just for funsies. People under 40 tend to take themselves entirely too seriously and cannot be trusted to have a silly good time in very large sunglasses without being self-conscious, and therefore should not wear them.

17. Bare feet/unmatched or fun socks: No one under 40 should ever go around barefoot; their feet are too tender and haven't walked enough miles in other people's shoes. They should also not wear unmatched or other fun sorts of socks; these draw too much attention to under-educated feet, causing embarrassment. Please protect those feet; join us in mis-matched or funky socks or barefoot all-year-around land when you have a few more callouses to balance on.

16. Hoop earrings: Once again, how much have you traveled? Let's survey women from more than one ethnicity and culture about their earring sizes...

15. I think Chewbacca pulls off furry boots very well.

14. My dog is a regular accessory. Does he count as a "furry anything"?

13. If nobody looks good in tube tops, then why are only over 30s targeted for wearing them? I am tiring of the lack of logic here.

12. As to short dresses/mini skirts, I have two words for you: Tina Turner.

11. Ah, yes, Crop Tops. Actually, unless you meet at least two of the following criteria, I don't think you have any business calling attention to your belly in any way, because you clearly do not know its proper uses yet:

• You don't care what you look like dancing.
• You enjoy fantastic food with really good wine and don't freak out about the calories.
• You know how to let loose a lovely belly laugh.
• You have survived/overcome any sort of trauma or ailment to/in your abdomen.
• You have been preggers.
• You don't bother wasting time with navel-gazing; you're pretty sure it's still where it always has been.

You know what, I'm getting tired of this ridiculousness and I've changed my mind anyway. Forget everything I said above. (Except the part about traveling. "Travel more" is excellent advice.) People under 30 (or 40) should go right ahead and loudly state opinions about what is appropriate or not appropriate to wear after 30 (or 40). Just be sure to write those opinions down and keep them in a safe place -- they are going to be pretty funny to look back on in 10 or 20 years! While you're at it, make a list of all the "right" ways to raise children before you have them, a list of things you will never do as an adult, and all the things people with a mental or physical illness you have absolutely no experience with should do to fix themselves...

Combatting Hospital Boredom

Ah, the hospital. Where one is sent to rest and recuperate. Yeah, right. Between the noises, the smells, the awful beds, the tests, and the weird schedules, rest can be very elusive. Sleep dances before one like a demented fairy, just out of reach. And boredom sets in.

Daytime television only takes one so far. Books can be difficult to hold. Walking the same loop over and over and over stunts one’s desire to ever walk again. So what to do, with limited mobility and resources but infinite time?

Should you ever require hospitalization, go prepared to deal with boredom. It will happen. Here are my top suggestions for taming the annoying beast:

If you can get a hospital gown, don't close the back and go for a walk. Drop items in strategic places so as you retrieve them you moon staff members/visitors/other patients who annoy you.

Order a nice Chateaubriand with your meal tray. Request an after supper brandy.

If you are in the ER in an exam room and haven't seen anyone in a while, move around the room opening every cupboard and drawer and looking inside. I don't know how they know, but this will bring someone in to check on you quickly.

Obtain a stuffed toy or Teddy Bear. Insist the staff perform all procedures on your stuffie as well as you. Carry on conversations with said stuffie. It is helpful if it is named something along lines of "Gerard" or "Your Majesty". This has the added benefit of bringing in a psych evaluator. And they are REALLY fun to mess with.

Mine is a sheep called Rosemary.

Every time you hear an alarm sound, shout "He shoots! He scores!" really loudly.

Ask a nurse or orderly to help you find the cat channel on the television.

Fun things to do with jell-o (in case you have the misfortune of being served this): mix with mashed potatoes to make a lovely coloured substance. "Draw" pictures with it, using a knife to spread. If in cubes, stack cubes and begin gently wiggling the tray, slowly increasing the strength and speed of the wiggle until the tower topples; experiment with various structures to find the longest-standing. Suck a bit up into a straw and then aim & blow hard and fast on the straw at a specified target.

Carefully tear pictures or quotes out of exceedingly old magazines from the waiting room or Day Room. Make a collage using plasters or medical tape as adhesive. Hang the collage on the wall directly across from the nurses' station.

Remove every pad, diaper, and cloth you can from the cupboard in your room (or a passing cart). Fashion these together into a general body shape. Place this creation in your bed, under the covers, and attach yourself to the tail end of the medical student/intern rounds. When discovered and told to return to bed, protest loudly: "But there's someone else in my bed!" (Again, this will bring in a psych evaluator....)

Request a bedpan, otherwise known -- for some reason I have never discerned -- as a "hat" (when used on a toilet to collect urine). Wear said bedpan on your head every time you use the toilet. Keep a running list of how long it takes each staff member to get the joke.

And my favourite: rearrange flowers to match your or other patients' medical conditions. Heart condition? All red. Nausea? Green and yellow. Orthopaedic surgery (with bruising)? Blue, black, green, and yellow. You get the idea. It might have been the drugs I was on at the time, but coming up with colour-coded flower arrangements for various medical conditions once kept me happily engaged for an entire day.

Boredom will do that to a person.