I have a beef with that

Here's the thing. The Wifester is allergic to beef. Honestly allergic. She has anaphylaxis when she ingests it. Trust me, I've seen it. I've had to give her that Epi-shot. It's not pretty. And people die from allergic reactions every day. So beef is out of the picture for her. She chooses not to eat pork because people who are allergic to beef have an increased risk of becoming allergic to pork. So she just avoids both, just to be safe. Me on the other hand, I don't have any allergy to them, and I don't have any religious restrictions. I simply choose not to eat beef or pork. Not that I don't, once every other year or so taste something that has either beef or pork in it, because I will. And I don't go around calling myself a vegetarian, because I'm not. And I don't lecture other people about their meat-eating habits, or make a big deal about it. That's just silly.
Really, I just stay away from beef and pork for two main reasons:

1. Personally, I've seen too many pigs and cows in line at the slaughter house. I've seen what I perceive to be fear, terror, and sadness on their faces. I can't get that out of my mind. And I acknowledge it is simply my own perception. I'm not asking anyone to agree with me or to change their mind to match my own opinion. You are entitled to your opinion, just like I am entitled to mine.

2. Neither beef or pork are the healthiest food sources for a person who has my family's history of heart disease. I'd like to keep my arteries clear, thank you very much.

Now, I'd never harass you for eating that steak or bacon. In fact, I may drool just a bit as you chow. I know, that stuff tastes like heaven in your mouth. I get it. But I, for my health and for my own personal conscience, choose not to eat those foods, at least not on any sort of regular basis. But on that rare occasion, when I push past the guilt and do taste some delectable that someone cooked with either beef or pork, there is always someone to speak up with that contrived, exaggerated tone, like they are simply aghast at the thought of me putting one bite of a dish that contains beef or pork into my mouth. You know, that "Whaaaat?! YOU are eating THAT? You do know it has MEAT in it, don't you?", or "But I thought you were a vegetarian? What happened to that??", or any number of other offensive snide remarks of similar tone.

I hate that. More than hate it, I detest it.

I mean, I'd understand if I was one of those meat-bashing, you-are-disgusting-for-eating-meat kind of douches. But I'm not. Never have been. Not once in my life have I ever acted like I was too good to eat beef or pork. Never once have I acted like I am right and you are wrong about the issue. I keep to myself and mind my own. If someone asks me about it, I tell them what I just outlined above, in items 1 and 2. So really, there is no reason to act as though I am committing some kind of blasphemy or being a hypocrite. I don't know why it even matters to you, what I eat or don't eat. No one goes all nutso about me drinking a tea instead of a coffee every now and again.

I mean, seriously, who the hell cares about those things?

Of Crock Pots and Baby Dreams

OK, you tell me who does that? Who borrows a crock pot, then returns it dirty, with crusted on chili left in it? WHO?? If you don't know about or have access to or the resources to buy those handy-dandy crock pot liners that are available at most any store that sells zip lock bags and aluminum foil, then at least have the decency to clean up the funk from your chili pot luck at work after your chili has had 8 hours to crust up on the inside of the pot.
I mean, really!

Alright, that's my bitch-n-moan session for the day. 

Happy thoughts. 

Last night I had a dream that I was painting my office to be a nursery. The wifester's mom was here, and she was setting up a crib for us. I was so super excited, and talking about when she gets here, how cute she is, how happy I am...
No, we're not pregnant. It was just a dream. I know why I dreamed it, it was a comment on facebook yesterday that triggered it. Someone I know posted about a new neighbor who offered her 8 week old baby girl to her. She said the new neighbor wasn't even joking. I said send that baby this way! I'll take her!
Can you imagine? What is going through a woman's mind that she would, even in jest, offer to give her 8 week old baby to a stranger? Not just to hold, but GIVE her to them. 
I'm serious. I'd take that baby and give her the best home. The best life. The most love. I'd do everything in my power to make sure that she was one extremely happy little girl who never doubted how very much she was loved.

So, which one of you is willing to give me a baby? 

Progress Isn't Always Something to Cheer

One of my friends from my Retinitis Pigmentosa support group asked me to share the graphic I had made that showed my vision compared to normal vision. It had been almost two years since I made it, so I thought I needed to update it and show what my vision has deteriorated to. It wasn't until I looked at the three images side by side that I really, fully realized the magnitude of the situation. My tunnel has definitely gotten smaller. The floaters and flashing orbs of light are much more intense, and that ever-present spider web like film covers everything I look at.
I have an appointment to see Dr. Elias Traboulsi next week at The Cleveland Clinic. He's one of the top specialists in this country and in the world for R.P. He literally wrote the book, the text book that every school of medicine in this country uses to teach about genetic diseases of the eye. So that's encouraging. At least I'm seeing someone who truly knows something about this thing that is happening to me, to my sight. I should feel encouraged. But I don't. I don't because I know that there is still no cure. I know that at best he will place me on some list to be notified if a cure is ever found. At best he may suggest I try one of the clinical trials. I'll get to be a guinea pig.
I really do try to keep a positive attitude and outlook, but sometimes it is just really hard to do that when you are a visual person, an artist, and your visual world is growing ever darker and farther and farther away.

Of Vet Bills and Missing Pieces

I keep looking at adoptable pups on petfinders.com. And RescueMe.org. And every other rescue site I come across.
I'm ready to adopt another dog. The Wifester is ready to adopt a new dog. But the sad truth is that until we finish paying back The Wifester's mom for The Sunny Dog's surgery, we simply can't do it, partly because we just wouldn't feel right taking on that financial responsibility until the other financial responsibility has been relieved, and partly because The Wifester's mom has repeatedly expressed how vehemently she is against it. I know it wouldn't be right, but gosh, there's a hole in my heart that just can't be filled- an ache in my soul that can only be healed by loving and being loved by another fur-baby.
I know no other can replace The Sunny Dog.
I know I will still miss her.
But I also know that my pain will be less and my joy will be more with the feelings that come from rescuing a pup in need. And what better way is there to honor The Sunny Dog's memory than to share some of the love that she so freely shared with us all?
I miss my dog.
And missing her makes me miss my cat, long passed- Max.
I know one day I'll have to say goodbye to Sally, too, and to whoever comes next, but that's all part of the total experience, and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

Positively in a Negative Mood

I try to keep a positive attitude. Really, I do. I know I come here to bitch and moan, but that's where I do my bitching and moaning, mostly. I try to keep it out of my real life interactions and out of my present state of mind. I come here, dump off all that negativity, and go back to my world of happiness...most of the time.
The last several weeks have been increasingly difficult for me. I still suffer from the loss of The Sunny Dog. And I still ache for the constant and uncontrollable loss of my sight. And I miss having meaningful, gainful employment. What I do brings in a little cash here and there, but not the steady, sure paycheck I got when I was workin' for tha man.
I miss the financial freedom I once enjoyed. I mean, we were never rich, but we had savings, and spending cash, and the ability to shop on a whim. Those days are gone, and they are gone because I lost that good paying job and tried to go into business for myself. They are gone because The Wifester lost her good paying job and has taken one at half her previous pay while she continues to look for something better. It's been a year and a half now, and she still can't seem to find any better than what she now has. And that also sucks. We hear so much about how the market needs skilled workers. Educated workers. What you don't hear about is how they don't want to pay the skilled, educated workers a fair wage for those skilled jobs. Not just anyone can assist a physician with tests, blood work, assessments, and triage. Not just anyone can administer shots and meds and give correct and accurate instructions to patients on the doctor's behalf. But they want to pay menial labor wages for such skilled, educated, and experienced people as The Wifester.
It's insane.
I guess I'm just in a sour mood today. I have to fill out this stupid dog license renewal for the state of Ohio and let them know that The Sunny Dog is gone. I could have done without the renewal notice in the mail this week. Couldn't the vet have just notified them for us? Shouldn't they? I mean, she was with him in surgery when she passed. He had her collar with the tags. As a common courtesy, if nothing else, the vets should take that upon themselves so we don't have to deal with it like this. It just serves as yet another reminder that such a major and special part of my life is missing. Gone, never to be recovered.
Bleh! I hate this feeling.
I hate talking about this feeling.
I hate hating this feeling.
And I miss my companion. Sunny wasn't just my dog. She was a constant, loyal, loving and sweet friend. She has been by my side 24/7 for the last three years since I've worked from home. I think that makes it harder. I'm glad I was able to spend her last years spending so much time with her, she loved it, but I think that makes her absence all the more difficult on me.
I'll be OK. I know that. I just need to fill out this stupid paperwork for the state and get on about my day.
I guess I just needed to come her and take a load off.

To Drive or Not To Drive

The Wifester and I were talking yesterday about driving and whether or not I missed it, and to what degree did I miss it, and whether or not she would miss it if she could no longer drive. She says she wouldn't miss a thing about driving, and that if she didn't have car-sickness she would never drive again and be absolutely fine with being passenger. But as it is, her car-sickness is lessened significantly by her driving rather than riding. C'est la vie, Wifester. Besides, I guess it's probably a good thing one of us can still drive.

I tend to first think, HELLS YEAH I miss driving. But upon deeper inspection of the idea, I actually find that no, I don't miss all that much about the experience. Sometimes I miss the freedom that being able to drive gave me, but the driving itself? Not so much. I recall that I seemed to be hitting lots of garbage cans, light posts, and other random side-of-the road items. I had way too many to count near death experiences while trying to drive. I would check my mirrors, look over my shoulder, and then begin to merge over on the interstate only to be greeted with honking horns and a few explicit words being flung in my direction accompanied by a middle finger...I nearly sideswiped many a car, truck, bus, semi, you name it. If it was on the road, I have either hit it, run over it, or barely missed hitting it or running it over. I'm honestly quite surprised I survived my driving years. Sure, it was a long, painful adjustment to letting go of driving. And I continued to drive long after I was told not to. And I still sometimes get the idea that yes, yes I could still drive if I wanted to! But honestly, I know I don't see enough to do it safely.
So I just don't.

And living here, where I have such easy access to just about anything I want within walking distance makes it super nice. I can walk to coffee shops, bars, an array of restaurants from fast food to the chicest of the chic vegetarian/vegan digs in the greater Cleveland area. I can walk to drug stores, grocery stores, parks, hair salons, art galleries, and even ice cream shops. That makes giving up the keys so much easier. Of course, I still have to battle my own laziness and tell myself, "You CAN walk down there, you know!"
Eh, just knowing I can walk there if I need to really helps keep that helpless, dependent on others feeling at bay. Even if I do wait for the Wifester to give me a ride when the weather is either too hot, too cold, rainy or snowy.

How about you? Do you have anything that prevents you from driving? Do you miss it, or just the idea of it? And if you are still able to drive, how much do you think you would or would not miss it? How would you adapt to giving up your keys?

Couple Donates Wedding to Save Pets

Yesterday my friend Carol, over at Brown Dog Foundation, emailed me about something fantastic that happened for Brown Dog and I just had to share it. 

I've told you about Brown Dog Foundation before, but in case you missed it or forgot or whatever, let me remind you about this wonderful organization. Brown Dog Foundation is a not for profit that offers assistance to families who are in a temporary financial crisis and who need help providing life-saving treatment or medications for their pet. To date, Brown Dog has provided over $250,000 to save the lives of 204 family pets. 

That said, this beautiful couple, Cynthia Cereceres and Adam Bickell got married on October 13th. 

Instead of bringing wedding gifts, they asked friends and family to donate to Brown Dog Foundation. How wonderful is that? 

Brown Dog is run off of donations from kind and generous people like Cynthia and Adam. Every dollar they receive is paramount in the quest to help save the life of a beloved family pet. Won't you consider helping Brown Dog? Even if you can't afford to donate money or time, you can share this story and help spread the word to others. If you would like to donate to Brown Dog, go to http://www.browndogfoundation.org/# and click on the Donate link at the top of the page. To see other ways you can help Brown Dog, click on "Support Us". 

Brown Dog Foundation is also on Facebook and Twitter and you can catch up with them at their Blog, too. 

Here's the press release on the story: 

LOCAL COUPLE DONATES WEDDING TO SAVE FAMILY PETS

Brentwood/Nashville, Tennessee (October 15, 2012) –  Saturday, October 13^th the marriage of Cynthia Cereceres and Adam Bickell enjoyed the gorgeous setting of Vanderbilt Dyer Observatory.  And, instead of bringing gifts for the happy couple, their 115 friends and family donated generously to Nashville-based charity, Brown Dog Foundation.  Every four hours Brown Dog Foundation receives a request from a family facing the agonizing decision of unnecessarily euthanizing their family pet because they lack the cash or credit line to cover the cost of veterinary care.  This equates to more than 2,400 requests for assistance each year.  While the Foundation continues to assist one family each week, their efforts only scratch the surface of this massive need. 

Since late 2011, the Foundation has received several phone calls from “Brides to Be” offering to request their friends and families donate to the Foundation rather than bring wedding gifts.  “As women choose to get married later in life, the need for traditional wedding gifts is diminished.  Asking friends and family to support a cause near and dear to their heart gives them a way to turn their wedding night memory into a lifetime gift for someone in need,” explains Carol Smock, Founder of Brown Dog Foundation. 

This was exactly the case for Cynthia Cereceres and Adam Bickell of Nashville.  Adam became aware of Brown Dog Foundation in 2009, when a team of runners raised $20,000 for the Foundation by participating in the 30^th Anniversary Dublin Ireland Marathon.  He had just begun dating Cynthia at that time and shared his experience in learning about the Foundation.  Cynthia felt an immediate connection. 

A few years later, the couple became engaged and adopted their first dog together from the Nashville Humane Association, a pug they named Brooklyn.  Brooklyn was named in honor of a trip the couple took to New York City just before finding him.  Very quickly Brooklyn took over their lives…  catering to his every need and desire!  Cynthia and Adam are blessed with the financial stability of providing for all medical needs Brooklyn may experience, but they also know that the “bottom can fall out” for just about anyone unexpectedly. 

Cynthia and Adam contacted Brown Dog Foundation in November to tell them of their desire to dedicate their wedding to the Foundation.  In December, the couple attended the “Holiday Howler” event presented by Show Dog – Universal and featuring up and coming country artist, JT Hodges.  The Foundation’s photographer, Katie Sutherland, had donated a Wedding Photo Package to the event as a silent auction item.  The couple purchased the package, further solidifying their devotion to the organization and its mission.

Over the past six years, Brown Dog Foundation has allocated more than $250,000 (60% of overall revenues) to save the lives of 204 family pets from across the nation.  The total need nationwide exceeds 4 million dollars each year.  The expectation is that the need will grow as the Foundation builds its brand and presence.  Brown Dog Foundation operates solely by donations of the general public. 

Brown Dog Foundation, 501(c)(3) non-profit founded in October, 2006, offers assistance to families in temporary financial crisis an alternative to euthanizing their family pet when life-saving treatment or life-sustaining medication is necessary.  Brown Dog Foundation, Inc. serves the entire country, with a sizable concentration of assistance occurring in Middle and East Tennessee communities.  The organization helps families who are working class or higher income, but have experienced an unexpected catastrophe (job loss, unexpected and major medical bills, etc.) at the same time that their pet requires life-saving treatment or life-sustaining medications.  The goal is to give these families, who don’t qualify for public or government assistance in any other aspect of their lives, the ability to use their limited resources to focus on what they need to do to get their life back on track.  The family pays at least 25% of the cost of the veterinary care or medication needed, the veterinary clinic usually discounts 10-25% and the Foundation pays the balance.   

Founded by Carol A. Smock and six other women, the organization was started from nothing and has grown into a thriving community program.  With an average of 30 volunteers each year, the organization spends its time raising money so when a family needs help, they can respond.  Currently, the Foundation is providing assistance to one family each week.  “All total we’ve helped more than 205 families across the country, 150 of whom live in Tennessee, with the cost of prescription medications, acute and chronic treatments and surgeries– anything that ensures the pet will enjoy a good quality of life.  In each circumstance, we’ve given the family the peace of mind they need to focus on what’s most important in their life – getting through their crisis,” explains Smock.  “We love to help dogs and cats, but the true reward comes when we get a call from the family telling us that their lives and finances are back on track because of the generosity of our donors!” 

The current Board of Directors are Carol A. Smock, Board Chair; Kelly Hunt, Secretary; and Dallon Christensen, Treasurer.  Donations are accepted online or by mailing a check to Brown Dog Foundation, 3715 Brighton Road, Nashville, TN 37205.  For more information, visit the website at www.browndogfoundation.org.