End of 2012 Reflections

I commenced this hopefully short discussion at approximately the same time on the same day on which I discovered the "small lump" one year ago.  After the mandatory three day waiting period (waiting until offices reopened after the holiday) during which I could "take stock" of my life and envision the drama of my pending "end", the whole event was addressed rather easily.  Long story short, on Tuesday it was checked, found malignant, removed, radiated and gone by February 1st, leaving me only slightly, but not noticeably, maimed.  By following all my medical experts' directions, I expect my "end" is not pending for some time to come.   

The year 2012 was a busy one, much busier than I liked.  I am, after all, supposed to be retired.  The outcome of the busy-ness, however, is great.  My "protected person", for whom I am conservator and guardian, is now settled into an assisted living home which will, hopefully, keep her even though she will now be supported by public health care assistance.  And the application process for this assistance is going smoothly.

In addition my very dear friend and now former neighbor is happily moved to a lovely senior housing apartment, her home has been cleaned out and she has probably sold it to someone who will appreciate it.    Helping both of these people gave some the impression that I am a kind and caring person - and, damn it, I am - sometimes.

Also in this year I acquired a fifth Boston Terrier, a puppy whose papa is the litter mate of my Gracie.  His name is Lord William B, but I call him Darcy or more appropriately, Mr. Darcy, if you please.  He's nine months old and a very smart, cute and loving guy.  (Of course he's smart, cute and loving.  He's a Boston Terrier)  He is now living with his grandmother, his aunt and two of his cousins, all at my home/s.  He may even be pretty enough for a championship title.  We shall see.

Probably I don't need to mention that I was pleased (understatement) with the outcome of the election (not to mention thrilled that it was finally over) and, as of  this writing, am again a huge Vikings fan.  Also, I look forward to some fun rooting for our NBA and WNBA basketball teams, the Wolves and the Lynx.  Have to wait for spring to pass judgment on the TWINS, but they can't be worse than they were the past two years.

I headed to Phoenix on the day before the first big snowstorm in Minnesota and, except for some very slow travel on packed snow in New Mexico (slow but safe at a fuel saving speed of 2 mph and surrounded by big trucks), had a thankfully uneventful trip to my winter home.  In travel uneventful is good!

Having had a very pleasant Christmas eve with my relatives and my Phoenix choir family and a very pleasant and gluttonous Christmas day with my family, I am spending a quiet and contemplative New Year's weekend with my loving and lovely Bostons, and thinking about all the good things that have happened this year.  Among these and most important of all are the many laughs and good times I have with my dear friends wherever they are - and the blessings of love and caring I receive each day of each year.  And I wish the same blessings and peace to all of you!

I am as anti-gun as anyone can be, but I'm troubled that we are focusing so heavily on gun control  after Sandy Hook.  According to reports I heard, the killer's mother went through at least two rigorous and  significant checks and procedures to obtain some if not all of her guns.  Further evaluations of potential gun purchasers is not a bad idea, but it is not clear to me that these new rules and regulations would have prevented this particular event, no matter how much I approve of stringent requirements for potential gun owners, which I do.

I am absolutely in agreement that we need to understand and restructure the way we handle mental illnesses; however, again I'm not sure earlier intervention or stricter controls over the mentally ill would have prevented this event.  What strikes me that I am not seeing addressed so far is that we live in a culture of violence in which movies, advertisements, TV shows and video games create super exciting "action" scenarios that are replete with horrific violence.  In less graphic times a disturbed person with issues such as those which must have prompted this killer he might have taken his own life quietly and though tragic, such a taking may well have spared the other 27 people who died in this event.  What I see influencing this event much more significantly than his access to his mother's weapons "of mass destruction" is the excitement of going out with a huge bang.  Just like a video game, or like the movies or upcoming TV shows (even series)  that I shut my eyes and mute my TV to avoid the previews for.

Frankly, I can think of no other really strong reason why he should go to an elementary school and take the lives of innocent and defenseless children and their teachers.  Can you? 

Little Black Sambo

When I was a child, I recited for my class during kindergarten nap time the story we knew as "Little Black Sambo".  Yes, I too cringe at the title, but this would have been in 1943.  I am told that I did this so well I was asked to recite it for the whole school in one of the regular all school assemblies at which families were invited to attend.  My mother affirmed this story, saying that I should have remembered this story because I had made her read it to me over and over, no matter how many other stories she offered to read.  She also noted that I had recited the story flawlessly at the school assembly including the exact inflections that Mother had always used.

This memory arose as I have been reading a recent Alexander McCall Smith novel from his Isabel Dalhousie series in which the main character has a toddler son who insisted his mother read this story to him over and over again.  As the author wrote, "The current enthusiasm was a once-suppressed book about a small boy who is stalked by a tribe of fightening tigers. . . ."  I know that story.  It ends with the tigers chasing each other round and round a palm tree until they turn into butter.  In the novel Isabel in discussing the story noted "'I know it's a classic, but I really have had enough.  And it's so full of . . . well, every sort of assumptioin that we don't want people to make.'"

I can assure Mr. Smith, a favorite author, and his charachter, Isabel, that I have grown up to be no more biased than any other crusading liberal civil rights advocate. Perhaps as little children we don't recognize the stereotypes more knowledgeable adults see.  Or at least we don't adopt them as stereotypes when we are really just enjoying the thought of bright clothes and tigers chasing themselves in circles until they turn to butter.

The lamps are unplugged and the towel is in the drawer

He's not biting as much or as hard as he was a week or two ago, but he's running faster and has learned how to play "catch me if you can."  I chased him around the dining room table and thought I had him, until I saw him go a ways, then stop and turn back, knowing I had changed directions to catch him.   He is no longer showing up between my feet where I was seeing him just in time to avoid falling on my face and/or crushing his little foot.  I don't remember puppies being this energetic or relentless, but I was younger then as well.
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At first I was praising him when he peed or otherwise took care of his business during our frequent trips out of doors, but I've come to realize that this praise does not yet have any real effect on his behavior.  He  doesn't seem to process my soothing, happy tone of voice for its actual meaning.   Perhaps less soothing sounds now and then will give him a reference point.  That may well come soon.

He is less demanding when he is in his kennel, but continues to pick up with his mouth and chew on pretty much everything he can find - rocks,bugs, dried leaves, dirt, file drawer handles, corners of the couch and, occasionally, on a chew bone or treat actually meant for that purpose.

I was delighted to find that he did not like the taste of the bitter apple spray that is meant to discourage his eating my furniture.  There is hope that some or all of that might be spared.  The kitchen towel is in the drawer so that he does not tug it down from its hanger and race around with it enticing a good game of tug with one of his relatives.  Some of the lamp cords have been generously sprayed with bitter apple and others are at least safe from conveying a dangerous shock.  He has started climbing the three back stairs to the kitchen from the back door and is trying hard to figure out how to get in through the dog door.  And he has earned his first title.  He's officially an LLM - Little Loud Mouth.  Eventually, I suppose, he will be a BLM - Bigger Loud Mouth, like his cousins.  I'm sure he'll frighten off all intruders and be well worth his keep for saving us all.  Right now his LLM is used only for self gratification, and I am trying really, really hard not to reward this behavior by letting him out or otherwise responding.  It is helping, but we have a long way to go. 

On at least one occasion, the little loud mouth was removed from the bedroom to the downstairs kennel, so I could sleep.  He wasn't fussing, just playing with his blanket and toy and thumping on the crate in intriguing  and unexpected intervals.  He seemed well rested in the morning, and, thankfully, so was I.  He's actually been good at night.  For all the disturbances, funny, scary and sometimes annoying tricks, this little sweety has added to my already joyful and love filled life in a very positive and delightful way.  Just one look with a few energetic licks from him for good measure and pretty much all of life's worries and stresses simply evaporate.

Rediscovering my Inner Woman

Yesterday I went shopping, somewhat spontaneously.  At the Hanes outlet store, I bought what I had come for, then I stepped across the street to wander around the Ann Taylor factory store.  For the past probably 30 or more years I have not set foot in any stores selling dresses and feminine blouses and general women's stuff.  This is the logical outcome of the fact that I rarely wear anything but t-shirts and elastic waist pants; however, I am looking forward to showing a Boston Terrier that I co-own at our National Specialty Show in Houston next month.  I want to look my best in hope this beautiful dog will be taken seriously.

After some tryings on and consideration, I bought not just one, but two pretty dresses (40% off)  in styles I don't remember ever wearing before.  Chuckling to myself  about my uncharacteristic purchase, I headed back to the Hanes shop for some "shaping" undergarments.  With some trepidation I explored the depth of this odd impulse to see if it might be strong enough to take me to the make up counter at Walgreens or the high heeled shoe section at Dillards or, heaven forbid, to both.  With a sigh of relief I realized I am not interested in that - yet.  Then I remembered that I have been taking Estrogen for almost two months and am directed to continue this indefinitely.  I will have to be very careful in the future when these impulses come along.

Bad News! Good News!

And so it came to pass on the 30th day of December, 2011, that I decided to look more closely at this odd occurrence on my left tit; and soon discovered that it clearly was a "lump".  That left me with Saturday, the 31st, Sunday the 1st, and Monday, the legal holiday, to anticipate the end of my life as I've known it.  First to adjust to living with only one tit - ok, that's not too hard.  Then to adjust to the idea that I might have treatment that would destroy my hair and make me even more noticable in a crowd - ok, I can handle a little attention.  And finally, to wonder "what about if it is really bad and gets worse, how much time would I have to mend my friendships and finish all that I still wanted to do in my life?"  Ok, that was a little hard.  Bottom line, it was a long three days.

But, eventually, Tuesday rolled around and I had in quick succession a mammogram, an ultra sound and a biopsy.  By Thursday I knew there were cancer cells in that little lump, and I had an appointment with a really good breast specialist the following Tuesday.  After an MRI on Wednesday of that week, I was scheduled for a lumpectomy on Friday, the 13th.  In that successful operation my surgeon removed the lump, checked the lymph glands (they were free of cancer) and sent me home to recuperate.  I'll be having radiation in the near future and then will move on with my life.  An interesting two weeks, but the outcome could not be better in the circumstances.  I have a new respect for life and the challenges we face.  And I have an awesome number of good people who are my friends and very, very much for which to be grateful.

My advice: If you are at risk, or if you find a lump, for which you should be regularly checking, DO something right away.  Get your mammograms regularly as recommended.  Don't sit around worrying - that accomplishes nothing.  Move forward and take charge.  The best way to assure good news is to act quickly and early.  Life is short already - don't make it shorter by putting off what needs to be done.

My first Phoenix Outing

Without my dear friends from Minneapolis to join me, I have put off outings for three years now. Sure, I've had visits from my Mpls/Tucson friends and other friends and relatives during the season. We've had dinners out, visited the Desert Gardens' Luminaries and attended spring training games, but there's still a lot of time to fill between these events.  Much to look forward to as well.

Today I found myself on the brink of depression. I was swearing at my opponent on my Kindle Fire Scrabble game, was totally indifferent to any Sudoku puzzle and was very annoyed with my Spider Solitaire game, which I seldom win.  Realizing I had to do something else with at least some of my time, I sprang forth from my leather recliner and marched purposefully out the door and down the block to Dillard's, located in my neighborhood shopping mall. Three blocks later I reached the traffic light on that busy street that I've always driven on or across, punched the pedestrian button and walked across the street, where I found it interesting that there was no sidewalk, just a surprisingly empty portion of the Mall parking lot, 

At Dillard's I browsed the shoe department, bought some socks, then rode the escalator upstairs where things were eerily quiet for the week before Christmas.  Reviewed the kitchen gadget department. Did you know you can buy gadgets that prepare two grilled sandwiches at the same time and another gadget that makes quesadillas?  Lots of one cup coffee makers there as well.  So many gadgets to fill the empty cupboards of the truly trendy set.  I visited with a delightful American woman who lives in the Netherlands, but is here for the holidays.  She told me the Netherlands is the most successful free enterprise country in the world because they realize the importance of taking care of all their people.  

Then I visited with an employee named Roxanne, who moved here from Minnesota after her husband died.   We discussed families and our situations.  She suggested I might join a Singles group at a church, perhaps a Bible Study group.  I don't think so, but she did assure me such a group would probably accept me even though I'm "getting on in years" (my words).  There were no interruptions and we could have gone on for hours, but I was getting hungry.

Finally, I was off to the Paradise Bakery for a sandwich, after which I ventured outdoors and found my way back to my parking lot and intersection and home again.  I bought three pairs of socks and some small gift type items for my cousins and feel so much better for the outing, I'm almost ready to play another game of Scrabble on my Fire.