Wednesday, June 02, 2010
P.S.
If anyone has any good sites for Canine Epilepsy, or knows anyone with any information please let me know.
The block has lifted.
It's finally a nice day outside. We have had crappy weather, a mix of cold, rain and snow. I don't mind rain, and we really need it here, but I much prefer a warm rain. Battling with six dogs was fun. The only two that were good about going outside without Mommy was the Chihuahua's. We had to wait until the Beagles started to rampage to get them out. Even then, it would last maybe a minute or two then they would be under Hubby's make shift work table seeking a dry corner of the yard.
Hubby was grumpy because the road to Solar Hell was temporarily washed out. I was grumpy because I couldn't go play in the dirt in my garden. (I made up for it yesterday). The dogs were happy because we were locked in the house with them and couldn't escape or we would end up wet. It was hard on my brain as well. I had to fight the roller coaster, and the two extremes of mania and exhaustion from one day to the next. I did warn several people that I was at my extremes and not to intentionally press my buttons. The hardest part of all was keeping it all calm for Buster.
Buster the latest edition has had two seizures, not unlike what my sister's epileptic dog used to have. (She passed on). A phone call or three to the vets, hours of research and an in depth picking of my sister's brain (and it's big) we have found out a lot of information that still leaves us in exactly the same spot. Helpless. Because of the fact, he was a rescue and we have no medical information of him or his lineage, his age or his history. So we are waiting to see if he out grows this. We will know in approximately a year. We are only guessing he was about 9 or 10 months when we got him. If he doesn't out grow them, then we are faced with trying to determine if it is epilepsy or a brain tumor. At this point we are told, to keep a journal of his seizures, everything that led up to and everything after. I'm to include things life vacuuming and hand lotions if used because anything could be a trigger. My sister had to quite using a certain cleaner because it triggered her dog. From all the information gathered, anything from stress, loud noises, TV or radio to cleaners could induce a fit.
Good thing Hubby and I have been working with each other in dealing with our "relationshit". We argued for two days and nobody knew it because we kept the language soft, the tones quiet and the discussions short with long breaks in between. Here's the kicker, we resolved more in those short talks than we ever have raising our voices. The four old dogs weren't stressed or in hiding like they have in the past. This little factor really made us rethink our way to resolve differences.
I think back now to the way I used to behave and I shudder. If I say certain words, our Airedale leaves the room thinking there is an explosion following. The minute there is any frustration in my voice, his tail is ducking and his head is low. He becomes wary of me and my actions. Can you blame him? I can't. Not when I think of the monster he lived with. The side that nobody saw or heard except those that lived with me. Winston, is my daily reminder that I have to change the way I react to situations. So now instead of frustration, I just cry. It's easier, albeit messier, but not has hard on the system as anger or frustration. Less damage I find too, and tissues can clutter but you can't break an ornament when you throw tissue. And the Beagles think its a whole new game.
At least now I have my garden back. I spent the afternoon yesterday getting nice and muddy. It was great fun. It felt very satisfying to have gotten it turned over, weeded out and planted. I still have a couple more things to get into the ground and I really don't care that it's late either. It's more for therapy than anything else. Its my little area of the yard that I can go into without the dogs and escape into the dirt. Smudge hasn't figured out that it's Mommy's space yet but for a cat, I'm quiet impressed with the fact that the only time she is in the garden, is when I'm with her.
And don't worry Scribble, Smudge is very respectful of my garden. She went into it once the first time she was outside. I tossed her out telling her no and she hasn't ventured into it alone since. She is a very smart cat. I don't mind sharing my solitary space with Smudge. She stays by my feet and doesn't do anything but chase the odd bug or climb the tree above me. When I leave, she follows and then torments the Beagles or runs to under the shed for protection from the Beagles. I noticed yesterday she was actually following the paths after I told her to stay out of the dirt. I'd like to think my kitty is physic but today the little witch will probably prove me wrong just because she has a warped sense of humour.
I've been fighting writer's block on all levels. It isn't for lack of wanting, its the lack of words that really ticks me off. Even with the blog, I'm finding some days there is nothing there. Everything is blank. It's like my creative side decides to shut down. Those days its even hard to come with a meal, let alone a sentence. It can even be a good day and I'm not on the roller coaster and I'm stuck. Even my private journal will go without an entry for weeks because I can't seem to put anything down. Then if by chance there is a spark, I get easily distracted or worse, interrupted. I have learned from past experience if I push it, the struggle makes things harder and prolongs the block. Today is obviously a spark and so far the distractions have been the odd snoring dog and the desire to sate the need for coffee.
These are the mornings I love. I had a good sleep; a soft wake by a wet nose and soft face; coffee with cream and a serene quiet. Its sunny, birds are jumping outside the window. The air is sweet and warm, and thanks to the rain, the trees are greener and a little more lush. My garden is waiting for my walk around it and just to tip my morning to almost perfect, I get to poop scoop.
And I wonder why I have writer's block most days.
Hubby was grumpy because the road to Solar Hell was temporarily washed out. I was grumpy because I couldn't go play in the dirt in my garden. (I made up for it yesterday). The dogs were happy because we were locked in the house with them and couldn't escape or we would end up wet. It was hard on my brain as well. I had to fight the roller coaster, and the two extremes of mania and exhaustion from one day to the next. I did warn several people that I was at my extremes and not to intentionally press my buttons. The hardest part of all was keeping it all calm for Buster.
Buster the latest edition has had two seizures, not unlike what my sister's epileptic dog used to have. (She passed on). A phone call or three to the vets, hours of research and an in depth picking of my sister's brain (and it's big) we have found out a lot of information that still leaves us in exactly the same spot. Helpless. Because of the fact, he was a rescue and we have no medical information of him or his lineage, his age or his history. So we are waiting to see if he out grows this. We will know in approximately a year. We are only guessing he was about 9 or 10 months when we got him. If he doesn't out grow them, then we are faced with trying to determine if it is epilepsy or a brain tumor. At this point we are told, to keep a journal of his seizures, everything that led up to and everything after. I'm to include things life vacuuming and hand lotions if used because anything could be a trigger. My sister had to quite using a certain cleaner because it triggered her dog. From all the information gathered, anything from stress, loud noises, TV or radio to cleaners could induce a fit.
Good thing Hubby and I have been working with each other in dealing with our "relationshit". We argued for two days and nobody knew it because we kept the language soft, the tones quiet and the discussions short with long breaks in between. Here's the kicker, we resolved more in those short talks than we ever have raising our voices. The four old dogs weren't stressed or in hiding like they have in the past. This little factor really made us rethink our way to resolve differences.
I think back now to the way I used to behave and I shudder. If I say certain words, our Airedale leaves the room thinking there is an explosion following. The minute there is any frustration in my voice, his tail is ducking and his head is low. He becomes wary of me and my actions. Can you blame him? I can't. Not when I think of the monster he lived with. The side that nobody saw or heard except those that lived with me. Winston, is my daily reminder that I have to change the way I react to situations. So now instead of frustration, I just cry. It's easier, albeit messier, but not has hard on the system as anger or frustration. Less damage I find too, and tissues can clutter but you can't break an ornament when you throw tissue. And the Beagles think its a whole new game.
At least now I have my garden back. I spent the afternoon yesterday getting nice and muddy. It was great fun. It felt very satisfying to have gotten it turned over, weeded out and planted. I still have a couple more things to get into the ground and I really don't care that it's late either. It's more for therapy than anything else. Its my little area of the yard that I can go into without the dogs and escape into the dirt. Smudge hasn't figured out that it's Mommy's space yet but for a cat, I'm quiet impressed with the fact that the only time she is in the garden, is when I'm with her.
And don't worry Scribble, Smudge is very respectful of my garden. She went into it once the first time she was outside. I tossed her out telling her no and she hasn't ventured into it alone since. She is a very smart cat. I don't mind sharing my solitary space with Smudge. She stays by my feet and doesn't do anything but chase the odd bug or climb the tree above me. When I leave, she follows and then torments the Beagles or runs to under the shed for protection from the Beagles. I noticed yesterday she was actually following the paths after I told her to stay out of the dirt. I'd like to think my kitty is physic but today the little witch will probably prove me wrong just because she has a warped sense of humour.
I've been fighting writer's block on all levels. It isn't for lack of wanting, its the lack of words that really ticks me off. Even with the blog, I'm finding some days there is nothing there. Everything is blank. It's like my creative side decides to shut down. Those days its even hard to come with a meal, let alone a sentence. It can even be a good day and I'm not on the roller coaster and I'm stuck. Even my private journal will go without an entry for weeks because I can't seem to put anything down. Then if by chance there is a spark, I get easily distracted or worse, interrupted. I have learned from past experience if I push it, the struggle makes things harder and prolongs the block. Today is obviously a spark and so far the distractions have been the odd snoring dog and the desire to sate the need for coffee.
These are the mornings I love. I had a good sleep; a soft wake by a wet nose and soft face; coffee with cream and a serene quiet. Its sunny, birds are jumping outside the window. The air is sweet and warm, and thanks to the rain, the trees are greener and a little more lush. My garden is waiting for my walk around it and just to tip my morning to almost perfect, I get to poop scoop.
And I wonder why I have writer's block most days.
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