Bringing home Baby

The new addition, Mazda 2

In honour of Mother's Day (May 8th here) Lorne and I became proud parents to Mazda 2 GX, our brand new baby.....car! Well, almost. While we did sign the adoption papers we actually didn't get to take the new addition home with us right away - in fact we've had to wait almost 2 weeks - but finally picked it up today.

Wahoooo. It's a manual/standard/stick-shift too, so I have to get used to that again, after driving only automatics over here. In test-driving this car it was bizarre how my muscle memory had me reaching down the door panel with my left hand to change gears, since the gearstick would have been to my left when I learned to drive back in England. Old habits die hard - hopefully I won't also revert to driving on the left, or that could be a bigger problem. Eeeek!

It's a great little 4-door hatchback (very much a european size/style car) and should be a little more economical on gas - which is presently sitting around $1.40/litre in Vancouver. So compact that we can even park her in the driveway with room to spare.

Nissan Altima, the loyal old family dog

As silly as it sounds, I can't deny I feel incredibly guilty to our old car, like we're giving up the devoted old family dog for a sprite new puppy. :-( Our 14 yr old, ever-faithful Nissan Altima has served us so well for the past 6.5 years - trouble-free (despite the fact I just about reversed it down a staircase during the first week - long story, but seriously - who puts a basement loading bay in a single-level parking lot?) and with less than 130,000 km on the clock, she still runs incredibly well and has never been a problem nor a huge expense. Yes, it'll be a sad day when we say our goodbyes to the Altima - though perhaps still not quite as sad as the day we left Lorne's funky old massive 1977 cadillac (aka couch on wheels) at the scrap yard to meet it's fate with the crusher. We were both pretty choked-up that day and didn't hang around to watch.

Anyway, I have to end here and get packed because - we are go-ing to San....Fran....Cisco.

A week or two of things that did and didn't happen

While I'm in this long-overdue 'post' mode, I thought I'd also do a quick summary of other recent events - good, bad and painful - in hope that I can finally get a little more caught up on this blog.

Did: Resign and leave the Big Brother environment of a certain downtown architecture, engineering, interior design company, after just under two years. I'm surprised it even took that long really - considering there were many occasions during the masses of never-ending overtime there last year, that I came oh-so-very close. I'll spare the gory details but, apart from having a pretty decent direct boss and quite enjoying the company of my marketing co-workers (even though personal pleasantries and conversations were limited and often felt frowned upon), it was an excessive and thankless task - but hey, I learned a lot!  And in resigning, I also learned to enjoy the sense of empowerment that goes with choosing to leave because I simply can't support their gun-ho strategy of sleeping with the oil sands enemy across Alberta - while triumphantly touting themselves as 'sustainable'. Greedily wringing your hands with $$S signs in your eyes & saying you're designing 'LEED-based' buildings for the massive worker's camps/towns at these environmentally disasterous facilities, does not a truly 'sustainable' company make. In fact such claims are what's more commonly known as green-washing.

Anyway, it came as no great surprise that I didn't get a single word of thanks from any of the principals (ie Directors/shareholders) for whom I repeatedly slogged myself ragged at work, making sure the hundreds of proposals, for projects they claimed to want, looked great and were sufficiently researched and well-written to meet the endless stream of hard and intense deadlines. Of course it also didn't help that the wide-eyed puppy in HR waited till the day before I left to actually send out a company-wide email which was so vague that it actually made it sound like I'd got fired. Cheers!

Anyway, who cares? - I'm just pleased to have escaped from that particular workhouse where fun, personality and warmth were to be checked at the door upon entry.

Didn't: Get to enjoy my first ever simulated sky-diving adventure courtesy of Vancouver's FlyZone on my birthday. Lorne's so good at booking surprises and, being the luv that he is, had secretly booked us both at Fly Zone, but when the confirmation came with accompanying Rules and Regulations, he knew he had to let me in on the surprise.... First thing on the "Cannot participate if..." list? If the participant has ever had a shoulder dislocation. Nooooo!!!!  Since I had 7 dislocations and eventually surgery on my left shoulder and my right shoulder is loose and unpredictable at best, there really was no way we could ignore this one. Bummer! I would LOVE to do this skydiving - simulated or for real. I could not believe my bad luck and calling them just to double-check didn't tell me anything different. Un-bloody-believable! I would have just gone for it anyway except that I have been getting odd twinges of instability in both shoulders. Potentially dislocating both at once on my birthday just didn't sound like such a fun idea after all. :-(

Still, in its place, Lorne's going to take me zip-lining in Victoria - something else I've always wanted to do. He did it with some friends last year and had a blast, so I can't wait!

I did unfortunately encounter my first ever bout of strep throat. Wow, it's nasty and I hope we never meet again!!! I've never had such a painful and incredibly swollen throat and glands - my neck was starting to look more like a mountain range. Of course it kicked in full-force the night I finished one job and was hoping to enjoy 4 days off, including my birthday, before starting the new one. Timing, eh? That said, praise be to penicillin, my new superhero - I was thankfully feeling much better within 4-5 days.

Anyhow, despite the strep throat saga, I did nevertheless have a lovely birthday - Lorne completely pampered me with the most amazing breakfast in bed; big fat croissants, pastries/tarts, fruit, bread & yummy cheese. Had I felt better, I would have happily supped a bucks-fizz too, but I wasn't quite up to it at the time. Such a lovely brekky, it was very reminiscent of the outstanding spread that they put on at the delightful B&B "Casa D'Obidos" where we stayed in Obidos, Portugal 5 years ago. We've reminisced often about the wonderous breakfast-fairies who seemed to sneak in overnight and decorate the enormous dining-table with an endless array of tantalizing treats and heavenly goodies.

And on the birthday theme I did receive a surprise ticket to see Ray LaMontagne with Vicky on Sept. 2nd. Wohooo. What better excuse to continue my birthday in another 4 months? I've seen him perform a couple of times before, and really enjoyed it. We're going to make a night of it - go for dinner, see the concert & stay at a hotel downtown just for the hell of it. Can't wait - thanks Vicky, Mark, Bronwyn and River xxx. Thanks to Mum too, for the delicate little silver locket, which thankfully didn't get kicked around or smushed in the post. xxx

I did also start back at running - for the first time since last Summer when I was suffering severe and ongoing muscle spasms/stress in my bum cheek (of all places) and finally had to give up altogether. Albeit I've only done 3 short  runs so far and they have felt like hard work plus I'm presently running a few minutes slower than last year and still a long ways off from the 90-100mins I had worked up to previously, but so far so good.

So now that I'm in week 2 of the new job, the weather's finally picked up, I had a lovely birthday, barring the strep throat which is thankfully now history, and I'm heading into a few days off AND a long weekend to visit San Francisco for the first time - I'm feeling pretty darn good!  :-)  Plus I just had a few days home alone while Lorne's been off touring bourbon distilleries in Kentucky with a couple of friends. It sounds like he's had a fun trip and I look forward to more details - and ideally some Duty Free - when he gets home tonight.

Et voila.

Thanks to a little help from my friends

I've never really been one for having a wide circle of friends. A posse. A gaggle of girlies. Or going out in a crowd - except when 7 of us shared a house during my university years and we'd each pour our booze of choice into a single mixing bowl and then sit around it, each armed with a straw, slurping up whatever potent cocktail would get us drunk quickest so that we could spend as little money as possible actually in the bars. The pangalactic gargleblaster was often a post-nuclear blue or luminescent greeny/yellow in colour. Both going down and...sometimes....coming back up. But whatever mix we concocted, there was always vodka in it...somewhere.

From what I remember (if I spin myself around 20 times and cover one eye), we always had fun...and came home blurry, slurry and craving a toast party, raiding the cupboards of every last slice of bread. (Is that just a British thing I wonder? To demolish a whole loaf of bread as you ricochet between fridge, cupboard, fridge, couch, fridge, toaster, plate cupboard and back to couch again.) Yes, it was all fun, games and toast massacres - till the hangover kicked in anyway.

But apart from that, I've always preferred to keep just one or two close friends, friends that mean a lot to me, rather than flutter around in a complex and catty network of Sex-in-the-City-wannabes. Well, that probably sounds more derogatory than I intend (or did I?), but I've experienced a couple of examples of the latter...and decided to keep my distance. Hard to be heartfelt honest with someone whom you know simply can't resist the urge to seek the 'worldly' perspective of her 40 or so nearest and dearest cohorts

Anyhow, on the note of good friends, I'm eternally grateful for the 3 wonderful women in my life (aside from my sister, who will always be my number 1), who have recently - and successfully - given me a prod in the right direction. A gentle, and in one case perhaps unintentional, shove towards new endeavours (not naming any names or anything Linda).

So without further ado, I'd like to pay homage to them.

Firstly there's Jo - who just made my week, my month, my year and quite possibly even more! Jo and I first met in 2006 when we did Basic and Intermediate Digital SLR photography courses together at Focal Point. We've stayed friends and have shared many a personal, creative and career dilemma. I've always admired her humour and down-to-earth nature as much as her creativity and artistic eye, which is different to my own but that's what I like - she sees things differently, physically as well as metaphorically and it comes across in her photography and other creative endeavours. I enjoy her easy and spontaneous company.
I have Jo to thank for the excitement of having my first ever photograph published!!! Wohoooo - as a poster (left - click on it to enlarge) and accompanying leaflet for an upcoming art event that she's organizing as part of her job with the North Vancouver Community Arts Council.

She was kind enough to suggest I send her some of my photos, knowing that I've done a fair bit of macro photography too. She also said wonderful things about the pictures I've posted on Flickr and from that, and with a little help from her own graphic artistry, this beautiful poster was born. I'm honoured and really, really excited about it. It looks great, even if I do say so myself and I'm ridiculously pleased that this is one of my very own photographs - and put to such great use!

It makes me think a lot more seriously about what Vicky and other people have said on many occasions - I should display/sell or otherwise do more with my photographs. Heck, I make cards all the time - why not even use my own photographs for them, take it in a different direction?

Then there's Linda: whom I have to thank wholeheartedly for the inadvertent push and inspiration to seeking pastures new and for being hands-down the best person I've ever had the pleasure to work with; lovely, funny, warm, sarcastic, caring and an ever-patient sympathizer and co-conspirator against the Orwellian austerity of life at the proposal workhouse and the egotistical architects, designers and salivating, money-hungry oil/tar sands megalomaniacs that dwell therein.

For the most part I hated the job. The few months Linda was around (a short while before and after her maternity leave) was the only time it was ever bearable and the only times I felt like I could actually be human again rather than the humourless robot that was expected of me most of the time; less chat more work, where the vacuous, pin-dropping silence was broken only by the profuse, echoing clickety-clicks of keyboards.

The return of my ally, the only person to utter more than two words every 9 hours, was the only thing that kept me from resigning sooner - so when she was kind and honest enough to share with me one lunchtime just a few short weeks ago that she was thrilled to have been accepted onto a Masters program (to become a Notary) starting this Fall - I was truly happy for her....at the same time I heard a definitive death knell. Without Linda there was simply no way I could ever face going back to the soulless, thankless life of relentless deadlines and life-sucking hours of overtime that has overshadowed and even consumed my life for the best part of the last 2 years.

While it had crossed my mind beforehand (and as a New Year's resolution) to start looking for a more normal job, ideally in the non-profit sector, Linda's announcement that she'd be moving on, to something much more exciting, rewarding and personally fulfilling was inspirational, admirable and a massive kick in the pants to get MOVING. I was so happy for her (and still am, I might add) but my heart also sank at the thought of the endless grey drudgery that would once more be my day job if she were to leave.

So thank you Linda - for trusting in me enough to share your wonderful news :-)  and for brightening the days at that horribly impersonal place that shall remain nameless. If it helps any, I do feel guilty that it happened so fast, meaning I had to abandon you back there - but you're on the home stretch!!!

And that brings me to my next great friend, Deb, who - by some sixth sense perhaps - called me up the evening of the very same day Linda had shared her plans to ask if I'd ever applied for the job with the Canadian Cancer Society that she'd been kind enough to send me a couple of months earlier. I'd read it at that time but felt maybe it wasn't right, I was unsure, things at work had been marginally better & with less overtime (because Linda was back) and ....well....in my usual style of procrastination, I held off. Deb informed me that they'd gone through the interview process, even short-listed candidates, but didn't feel confident with the person being what they were really looking for. In her unwavering faith in my personality and abilities, Deb had the tenacity and goodwill to poke me a second time around and encourage me to apply. Besides, she's been working for CCS in Victoria for several years and I've always admired/quietly envied the fire and passion with which she talks about her job and the people she works with. I'd be crazy not to want some of that for myself - or so you'd think. Apparently it took waving it under my nose a second time around to finally light a fire under my bum....and here I am, two days in at my new job, working for the Canadian Cancer Society in Vancouver! I have every hope that this is indeed the start of something wonderful - and definitely more fulfilling, inspiring and I love that it's non-profit rather than sloggin' myself stupid for greedy corporate bigwigs who couldn't give a damn about what really matters - except for ruthlessly fattening profit margins and planning their next yacht purchase or 5-star vacation.

Not only that, but – for obvious reasons – the amazing work of the Canadian Cancer Society (and similar counterparts) is close to my heart for the most important role it has played in making sure Vicky received such fast and outstanding medical attention in her recent fight against breast cancer. A powerful, life-changing journey for which I cannot help but feel I was personally and emotionally inadequate and sadly less of a support to her than I truly wanted to be. I only hope that I can one day more than make up for that.

So here I am.....just days into a new job, just got my first photograph published, enjoying a fresh start in a new direction - and thankful to the sprinkling of incredibly wonderful, thoughtful, caring and fabulous friends who support me in the nicest possible ways! And not-fogetting a sister who's all that and more!

So I might be able to count me friends on less than one hand, but they are close to my heart, caring, fun and amazing and their friendship means such a lot to me.

I'm very lucky indeed.

All the better to see you with.

I remember feeling utterly horrified when, at 8 years old, the optician told my Mum I needed glasses. I cried secretly for days and, when we picked them up a week later, I cried all over again. I simply hated the thought. They were brown. They were ugly. They made me look ugly. And everybody would notice.

Spending the majority of my formative years (well, up until about 28 as it turned out) feeling horribly self-conscious, I distinctly remember the near crippling sense of dread I felt that first day in class, knowing I'd have to put on my new and much-hated 'specs'. And sure enough, kids being the blunt, insensitive creatures they are at that age....they pointed, they laughed and echoes of "four-eyes" ricocheted around the room. Silently and choking back tears, I bowed my head over my schoolbook and hoped my long-hair might at least hide the hideous scaffolding on my face. I think I stayed that way for about the next 20 years.

If there was anything to be 'grateful' about, it was being diagnosed as long-sighted not short-sighted, which meant I'd only need glasses for reading, schoolwork and maybe watching TV. Despite my self-consciousness, I dutifully stuck with it in hope that my eyes would one day improve enough for me to triumphantly dump the specs and be able to read in class without actually missing words or whole lines of text in one go. (And for anyone who pushed me too far with the jokes, I also discovered the protective metal case the glasses came in was great for giving a swift whack upside the head.)

Besides, as much as I hated those first glasses (and I've had some hideous, fashion-deprived glasses over the years) they were still infinitely better than the geekier and even more ridiculed 'NHS glasses'. The ugly, thick blue/pink/brown glasses provided free of charge through the National Health Service to low-income families. Those poor kids who had to wear permanently wonky NHS specs always seemed to get beaten up, tripped up or were otherwise so uncoordinated that their glasses would soon be cracked, broken, missing a lens or else held together with bandaids. It just seemed to go with the territory.

Crazy thing is, the NHS-style glasses of the 70's (of which this was the best picture I could find), have become a much sought-after fashion accessory. NEVER would I have thought fashion-conscious, cool and trendy kids would be wearing NHS specs! How things change.

Anyhoooo, surprise, surprise my idea of miraculously fixing my long-sightedness didn't work. I still wear glasses for all the same reasons although I've been increasingly bad for wearing them, not least because I feel compelled to take them off when talking to people - they feel like a block, same as sunglasses do.

I've definitely always made a point to buy glasses that would be as inconspicuous as possible; plain, discreet, unremarkable, bland and even 'blendy-blendy' as the sales assistant described my last pair this week. When I bought them 2 years ago I thought I'd actually stepped out a little but looking back on it, I still went for frames that 'blended' with my hair colour and which I hoped no-one would really notice.

So, since there was money sitting unspent in my extended medical coverage at work, I decided to replace my glasses. As it happens my prescription has changed very little, if at all, for the last several years. I didn't 'need' to get new glasses this week but heck, if the money was there and about to go unused (since I'm changing jobs - thank goodness), then why the hell not get new specs? So I did. And I actually pushed the envelope a little and went outside of my regular comfort zone - mainly encouraged by the fact that glasses really have become such a major fashion accessory. Even people who don't need them are sporting funky or vintage and even NHS-like frames as a personal fashion statement.

The new, funkier pair

The 'blendy-blendy' pair

Okay so I didn't go to any extremes here, but - for the first time - I do have a couple of photos of me actually wearing them and, while normally hiding away my glasses, I even ventured so far as to put these pics on Facebook (admittedly after some gentle prompting). And now that I look at them, I actually don't even mind the blendy-blendy pair. I also have another pair where I previously tried to jazz it up a little, since I found some funky frames at a Dollar Store and got prescription lenses put in for a great discount - but I don't have a photo yet.

Anyway, that was an incredibly long-winded way of saying, after 35 years, I seem to have finally come to terms with the fact I wear reading glasses. Maybe this is all part of that wonderful sense of 'self-acceptance' your supposed to get in your forties.....is it? (Even if I do still choke on accepting the word 'forties' in terms of myself.)

Argufying and Grumbulating: What's with this April-uary weather?

Here we are, April 28th already and if Spring is in the air, it certainly hasn't shown itself here in Vancouver.

Can’t deny my pangs of envy upon seeing the floods of pre-Royal Wedding news coverage from England. NOT because I’m a royalist (which I’m not, in fact I care very little about all this gushing over the Royals and ye olde “Wedding of the Century” mallarky) but rather because everyone in England is clearly dressed in summer clothes, merrily basking in the sunlight and unseasonably warm temperatures they’ve been enjoying for the past several weeks.

And where are we at in Vancouver? Oh yeah, right on target for the coldest April in more than 75 years, that’s where! - averaging 8C when we should be nearer 14. Boo-hoo and WTF!!!

My birthday is a mere 3 days away and I’m just a tad grumpy about still wearing my Winter clothes, heavy coat, gloves & scarf and constantly feeling chilled – something is seriously wrong with this picture. (Although they do say you feel the cold more as you get old(er)….sniff!) 

If I’d ever got off my bum and learned to ski, I’d no doubt be much happier – since even the local ski hills have fresh snow…which is way more than they had during the whole of last year’s 2010 Winter Olympics. But wouldn't you know it, the one day Lorne and I were all set to lose our snow-shoeing virginity on his birthday (April 10th), things warmed up enough that particular day that non-stop pouring rain completely foiled our plans. Ohhhh, the bitter irony.

Hopefully things will soon begin to improve because mostly I'm fed-up of hearing myself sound so completely fed-up about it.  :-)

I take it back....

So those who know me - and are quite likely on my Friends list - will appreciate that my last post Facebook Schmacebook is now.....errr......water under the bridge. Although it's not that my FB page lies dead and buried, gathering dust under a pile of incomplete posts (like my blog seems to have been for the past few months), but rather that it is surprisingly alive and well thank you very much and I'm actually not even sure why or how it gained momentum.

The most surprising advantage is that I've had more frequent and regular contact with family in the UK - albeit in short, sarcastic, piss-taking bursts - than I have in years, it's great! I'm even bouncing back and forth with friends I know well, quite well or simply commenting sometimes on the comments of friends' friends. Plenty of that great British humour and it's so incredibly refreshing, as well as nostalgic. Heck, I'm in danger of becoming a Facebook Bunny - or whatever the true FB insiders might call it. Or maybe not, since my decidedly anorexic list of friends must put me firmly in the 'saddo' category but I'm fine with that. I actually have no desire to rally up a bunch of names of people I hardly know and care about even less, just to appear 'popular'.

I still find Facebook somewhat freaky and I'm not entirely comfortable with the fact I've started using it as much as I have. While I'll never be as bad as a certain friend that I've actually had to block, since he posts almost as often as he blinks, I can't deny I nevertheless catch myself briefly logging in to start the day with a quick update on who's said what and what stupid comment I can post, while I get ready for work. The time difference keeps it interesting too, with half of my family/friends finishing their day as mine begins and vice versa. Anyway, that's all I'm going to say on the subject for fear of sounding like the FB nerd I dread to become.

One unfortunate side however, is wanting to 'friend' a good friend on FB, but I don't want to be inhibited about what I post seeing that some of her friends are people I've worked with but don't know all that well. I don't want to be their friends too, just by virtue of sharing the same sterile 8-5 drudgery in a place I can't wait to leave behind. (Well, in my case and for the most part it's been more like 8am-10pm, no breaks.)

Funnily enough I still find I hate the thought of Twitter in much the same way as I steered clear of FB. AT the end of the day life's really too short to get sucked into another vortex of endless connectivity, eating voraciously into my aspirations of creativity. Huge downside to Facebook? It swallows up time!

I need to back off from Facebook and get to writing some new posts here...or at least finishing the oodles of postings I've started.....but haven't finished.

Status update?: Get a life!  Besides, spontaneity, creativity and conversations with family & friends should be presented in something greater than 120 characters tapped out mid-breakfast.

Facebook Schmacebook

So, after almost one whole week of signing up to spurt out my little commentaries on "FB" and catching up on snippets of other people's info, photos etc and even posting some of my own photos from my UK trip last year (so family can see them....finally) - I've decided that I still don't think Facebook is really for me.

Maybe I'm fickle....and it was 'fun while it lasted', but I have to admit the novelty has quickly worn off and I still don't much like this slightly in-your-face feeling of being notified of every little update from everyone else's friends of friends of friends etc. - most of whom are still complete strangers to me. Perhaps I really am just anti-social after all.

But added to that, I got playing around on FB last night - doing the inevitable 'where are they now' search of friends, ex-friends, ex-friends-friends and ex-boyfriends - when I realized that your privacy settings on your own site aren't necessarily in place if someone goes to one of your 'friends' sites and then follows your comments on there....and then they can read your notes, see your photos etc. Like a back door to getting into your Facebook page - uninvited.

Which is sort of how I got caught up in evesdropping (what would the FB equivalent to that be, I wonder) on the lives of people I knew - at Uni, at school ......and when I worked in the Maldive Islands many moons ago - 16 years almost....eeek! To my significant/surprising envy, I discovered that many of them are still globe-trotting, visiting some outstanding places and obviously have some spectacular photos and experiences to share.....all of which merely served to add fuel to my fiery wanderlust and itchy feet.

 Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland 

For ten years I too was one of those people, to the extent that some of my relatives nicknamed me the Globetrotter. I lived and worked in France (Paris + Bordeaux), Germany (Trier/Mosel + Bonn), Switzerland, Belgium and the Maldives for several months at a time before finally moving to Canada.

 Maldives, Indian Ocean 

I successfully found jobs based in England that still took me all around Europe - sometimes several times a week/month. I spoke French and German fluently every day - flipping seamlessly from one language into the next depending on who I was talking to. I even found I could make up some Spanish, Dutch and Swedish based on what I knew of French & German. And yet it also feels so horribly long ago too.

I sorely miss using the languages - there's so very little opportunity here although I did manage some TV/Film translations and a stint in tourism for Intrawest for a while. There are aspects to my current job I quite like, but the company is moving more and more into projects with Alberta's oilsands and gas companies which I find hard to accept. You don't have to delve too far into their work to discover that oilsand projects are devastating to the environment - tantamount to raping and pillaging the land and wildlife as far as I'm concerned (and as far as David Suzuki is concerned too).

I'd be lying if I said I don't feel glued to the spot sometimes when I know there's still so much out there. And suffice to say, I want to travel and live somewhere else for a while. I go through this feeling quite regularly actually, it never really goes away, and each time I do, I start to panic about time and opportunity running away and life passing me by. At the same time, I get nervous of kidding myself about the grass being any greener so I try once again to just shut up, stuff it down and wait it out.... 'This too shall pass' right?.....but that's also what I'm afraid of. I'm not sure I want to keep letting it pass, I want to act upon it.

I know Lorne's feeling the same and since we sadly lost Otto (who's health was a major priority over us making any major life changes) the thought has once again crossed our minds to make a move, go on an adventure. So much to see that it often feels like there's too little time - unless you win the lottery, of course.

Anyhow, that's the dilemma....simmering away on the back burner.....again!

But for today, I think me and FaceBook will probably break up.


(P.S. Within minutes of posting this I thought I'd quickly google my blog in case my boss can find it.....and I came across another Katrina Wright.....doing something I'd love to do.....or should be doing. Heck, Lorne's an Editor - maybe we should do this together. Is it a sign?)

Bugger!

I got playing around with my blog template & layout....now look what a mess I've made. I hear myself thinking, "You couldn't just leave it alone, eh? You just had to start mixing things up a little....."

:-(

The deed is done

I finally succumbed to peer pressure - how could I legitimately continue to snark about something I've not yet tried?

I hereby confirm that, on the 30th day of this, the month of January, 2011, I did officially and (somewhat) voluntarily lose my Facebook virginity. Echoes of shock, horror, disbelief and utter sarcasm have since emanated and ricocheted across the globe, ruffling the virtual pages of aforementioned Book of Face. Oh how the mighty 'luddite' has fallen.

I'm still overwhelmed by the sensation of so much 'noise' coming at me from everyone's news stream (she wrote, trying to get jiggy with the terminology, but likely failing miserably). Notes appearing on my wall....getting emails about notes on my wall, inviting friends and getting notes, emails and postings that they've accepted the invite.....and then getting notes about things that their friends have posted etc. I suspect I haven't yet figured out my notification settings properly because it's like being bombarded with he said, she said, this, that and the other.

I'm not sure if I'm replying to people's comments directly to them or am I posting to their 'wall' for all to see? Can everyone else see the comments I get? I haven't figured out that part yet but it's weird to read a series of incoming postings from a bunch of strangers who happen to be friends of a friend of a friend of a friend...of another friend...who's also a friend....of a friend who's a friend of someone I know. Am I meant to still care about friends 17 times removed?

I'm really not sure this Facebook mallarky is something I'll continue with - I'm still inherently creeped out by the whole idea - but I might have gained half a point on the street-cred meter and at least I'll get up to date with some of what's happening in everyone else's life, rather than feeling so sadly out of the loop.

But you know what, it actually was kind of fun today, just throwing out a sporadic thought, observation, criticism etc and seeing what came back.

Déjà vu- all over again, again, again and again.

You could be forgiven for thinking you hear an echo, let me explain.

Three weeks, 6 veterinary visits, 3 hospitalizations, 6 x-rays, 1 ultrasound, 1 sedation, 1 spleen biopsy, 3 different injections in the clinic, 4 at-home injections, 1 enema, 2 urine analyses, 1 feline blood panel, 1 geriatric blood panel, 1 cystocentesis, 1 radiographic written report, several rounds of subcutaneous fluids plus multiple prescriptions of cisapride, cyproheptadine, famotidine, adequan, sulcrate suspension, rhus toxicodendron homeopathic anti-inflammatory medication..... oh and a running total of about $3082 later......and we just might have identified a couple of things up with Mishka, albeit still no official conclusion at to why she constantly refuses to eat but often barfs if/when she does! Yikes, did I manage to say all that in one breath? Not without breaking a nervous sweat, I assure you.

This has been an expensive and frustrating month - actually 3 weeks - of exploring different things in a partially futile attempt to figure out what's going on with her. Heck I might as well sign over my paycheque directly to the vet, except that it's already exceeded my average take-home pay for the month. And while I know it's really not about the money per se, since I wholeheartedly accept full responsibility for Mishka's care, health and well-being - just wanting to find out what's wrong with her and what, if anything, can be done to improve her health and quality of life - it's still a huge chunk of money in a short space of time, especially right after Christmas and especially when we haven't really found the root cause of her gastro-intestinal issues.

Anyhooo, in pursuing chest/hip x-rays out of fear/suspicion something more ominous might yet be lurking there, we did discover that Mishka has something whacky going on with her front right shoulder joint in addition to definite signs of osteo-arthritis in both hips. At 13.5yrs old, the 'baby' of our feline family is sadly starting to show her age and in more ways than one. A specialist review of her x-rays determined that the look of breadcrumbs around her right shoulder area and a little on the left, is typical of a condition known as osteochondromatosis - calcifications/small particles of bone around the synovial fluid in her joints which are no doubt causing her some stiffness and discomfort and, along with the arthritis now showing in her hips, explains why she's much slower and hesitant lately when going up/down the stairs at home. Alas, the best we can do is give her anti-inflammatory and/or pain management medication (adequan), although a couple of injections of the latter seemed to make her lethargic, depressed and withdrawn, so we've had to hold off for now.

On top of that, when she finished off her first round of anti-nausea and appetite stimulant meds last week, she immediately began to go downhill. We noticed her drinking water profusely, refusing to eat for several days (again) and then barfing what little we even managed to force feed her (again).

Back to the vet we went and now, after further blood and urine tests this week, we received the added diagnosis that she is indeed at stage 1 of Chronic Renal Failure (CRF). Hence the echo-effect in the title of this post, since this is now the 4th time we're encountering this terminal disease; first Molly, then Otto, Kramer is presently at stage 3 and now it's Mishka's turn. It's a very sad diagnosis and not what you want to hear but if there's any 'benefit' to having gone through this already, it's that we know what to expect, we know how to handle it as best we can and we have a better understanding of the (unfortunate) limits of our own powers to heal or evade this degenerative condition. We can, however, help slow down it's progression - somewhat anyway. With regular doses of subcutaneous fluids, cats with CRF can continue to lead a very happy and largely healthy life for several more years and are generally not in too much discomfort, except for sometimes feeling unwell, until the end stage (stage 4) of the disease.

So now we have to add Mishka to the regular thrice-weekly rotation of subcutaneous (sub-Q) fluids that we've been giving Kramer for the past 18 months. Lorne runs the fluid while I'm the bearer of the needle, but both cats handle it very well, as did Otto before them, and are surprisingly easy-going about it, perhaps because it makes them feel better. (Unlike Molly who would literally fight us tooth and nail in that first year of giving her fluids.)

I'm not sure how I feel. I'm naturally a little frustrated that we haven't quite figured out Mishka's GI problems, but I'm also quite concerned about the bone degeneration and how that might progress and affect her mobility. Moreover, while CRF is nothing new in our house, it still adds a renewed and deep-seated sense of being so horribly powerless to prevent any of it. Our committment to giving them sub-Q fluids will help stabilize their condition but there's that nagging familiarity of just what lies ahead juxtaposed with the present unknown of how well Mishka might even respond to treatment or how fast her ailments might/might not progress.

The melancholy side of my nature feels acutely aware that this is the inevitable start to a slow but steady decline, but I have to enjoy each precious moment and accept that Lorne and I are equally committed to doing everything within our powers to keep our furry friends with us for as long as they are happy, comfortable and able to stay.

Yup, it sure feels like déjà vu.

We love - and have loved - them all dearly. Helping them in whatever way we can, especially when they need us most, is the least and regrettably the most we can do.