This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
March on.
March, the month spring break is always in, doesn’t really feel like spring. March on.
It’s snowing here, icy and cool, a delay quickly turned to no school. March on.
My dog is healing with medicine and rest we are all exhausted, trying our best. March on.
No hot water this morning, I tried not to cry as I watched my water heater leak and die.* March on.
March on.
*Well, I guess you could call it lucky That I am home today, and the plumber was available to come right away but lucky is not exactly the word I’d like to say.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
Now that Finn is back home, and “out of the woods,” according to his regular vet today, I want to tell you about Corn Chip.
To set the scene, imagine yourself suddenly needing to pick up your dog at 10:30 at night. First you quickly had to cover all your couches, roll up all your rugs, and put a gate at the steps. (Because of gross dog butt things that I won’t make you read about. You’re welcome.)
Just so you know, those things were not prepped ahead of time because we didn’t know for sure he was coming home that night. Also, maybe most importantly, I didn’t want to jinx his chances.
So it’s late, you’re tired. You race to the vet hospital, where you immediately have to wait because it’s pretty crowded.
A crowded vet hospital is a sad place. But, you are looking forward to picking up your boy…
So, that’s where we were, the sad waiting room, trying not to look at other people’s emotions, trying not to listen to all the animal noises from inside the treatment room, for what seemed like a long time. Until they called us up to settle our bill.
I was ready. I had taken a lot of deep breaths. Every time we had been to the hospital to visit Finn we had had to pay thousands of dollars to settle up, and pre-pay for the next day or two. So, you can imagine the deep breaths I needed.
“Actually we owe you a refund,” the receptionist said. “You overpaid some yesterday.”
I leaned in close, over the counter.
“Can you say that again?” I smiled.
After refunding me a few hundred dollars, they were ready to send us back to get “discharge directions.”
We went to a new room and I was a bit taken aback. Were we about to get interrogated? Was that a two-way mirror?
“Wait, is it called a two-way mirror?” I asked my daughter, “because wouldn’t a two-way mirror mean that it was a mirror on both sides? And what would be the problem with that? Also, why do I hear voices from behind the mirror? Are we being punked?“
Much later, Google told me that it can be called a two-way mirror or a one-way mirror, which frankly, I think is ridiculous.
We waited some more, and then a lovely vet tech came in to explain all the medicines, procedures and diet restrictions that we needed to understand.
It was late, mind you, but at one point I was maybe crazy-laughing a littlebit.
I tried to get some help, asking, “Is this a logic puzzle? I mean, if he has to have this with food before this one without food, and this can be an hour before or after food or medicine but not 2 hours before or after food or medicine, and this has to happen at 11:00 2 hours before or after other medicine but this other one also has to happen at 11:00, I honestly don’t know how to figure this out.”
Shouldn’t they give you these directions in some sort of table with times clearly labeled?
Finally, we were ready to go back out front, where they would bring us Finn, and also where I would pay for another medicine they didn’t originally give me.
As I was once again handing over my credit card, the receptionist told the vet tech, “When you are ready, Corn Chip is here, ready to be triaged.”
Corn Chip!
We turned around to see a mom and her daughter holding a tiny little pink and white carrying case. Corn Chip was moving around in there, probably wondering why he was being transported far away from his home.
“What is that?” I whispered to my daughter.
She was pretty sure it was a gerbil. I can’t tell you if it was that or a hamster. What can I say? I am not great at rodent identification.
I can, however, tell you that I loved him. I mean, Corn Chip?
Later that same night when I had to run back to the vet to get some food they forgot to give me and replacement medicine that Finn spit out, I saw that mom and daughter waiting on their same chairs. No tiny little pink and white carrying case though. Corn Chip must have been back in a treatment room. They didn’t seem upset, so I had hope.
It took every ounce of my exhausted self-control not to stop by their seats and tell them that that not only did I hope Corn Chip would be okay, but also could they please contact me to let me know when he was all better?
The next day I wondered what would happen if I called the vet hospital and confidently conned my way through a conversation.
“I’m calling to check in on Corn Chip,” I might say. Or, perhaps, “I should be on the list for visiting.”
What are the veterinarian HIPPA rules?
Maybe this is why they have the interrogation room. . .
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
My son said that maybe taking care of the dog all night would be sweet for me — remind me of taking care of my kids when they were babies.
I said, “Yea. But I was not 48 then…”
To his credit he called after me, “You’re young!”
My daughter who was team sleep on the couch with mom and dog all night and help with medicine and waking up to take him out asked, “Is this what it’s like to have a newborn?”
I said, “Well… Having a newborn is harder.”
From my corner of the couch, a different couch from the one I slept on, I see Finn, snuggled up against me with his cone embarrassing him and pissing him off.
My couch is covered with blankets and pee pads, and I’ve been sitting here for maybe 100 years writing sub plans for tomorrow morning.
That’s the thing about teaching, isn’t it? I’m so tired from being up for a million hours, my cough is back, and I’m about to do it again tonight… so I need to take the morning time. But, doing that meant I had to spend hours not resting, but writing plans (In between following the schedule for all the pills and liquids and meals…)
From my corner of the couch I hear the soft music we are playing for this healing puppy. Google told us to make his environment as cave like as possible. We asked Google after a scary elevated respiratory rate situation. At first we put on cave sounds, but those were just weird. I don’t know if Finn appreciated the hollow dripping noises. I think whatever soft jazzy instrumental playlist someone put on now is, that’s the best bet. I hope.
From my corner of the couch I feel Finn’s breathing, and it seems regular now. We almost rushed him back to the vet, and I’m hoping we don’t have to do that. They said, “Follow your instincts. You know your dog best,” when I called earlier to say his breathing was much faster than what they said meant to call.
And yea, I do know him. But thankfully I’ve never known him after 5 days in the hospital. I’ve never known him on these medications I have to give him every 3 hours, every 8 hours, every 12 hours, every 24 hours, 1 hour before eating, 2 hours before eating, 2 hours after eating, 1 hour after eating. I’ve never known him after he ate almost 300 times the amount of medication he’s supposed to have.
And this is shocking, I know, but I’m not actually a trained vet. So, I guess what I’m saying is, this is a lot.
But at least I have muscle memory for sleep deprivation and taking care of babies. Now those babies are so old, that I actually have someone to help me with all the tasks!
From my corner of the couch, I’m tired. I’m grateful of course, for so many things – but also… I guess I just wanted to complain.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I am not what you would call great at what I call calendar math. I mean, I can teach it well. Don’t worry about that.
But ask me how many days or hours until something and I’ll do some, what some people have called, crazy math.
“Well, 1:15 to 2:15, 2:15 to 3:15, 3:15 to 4:15…” I’ll say as I hold up my fingers. Knowing full well that I could also do 4-1. I just really want to feel the cycle of that hour, I guess. It needs the X to X verbal cue and a little circle gesture.
It has taken me months to remember that when my daughter talks to her boyfriend in Japan, he’s saying good morning and she’s saying goodnight. We wake up on Saturday but I can find out if his team won their Saturday night game. What!?!
One time I made a joke asking if he could time a flight to Japan so that he could celebrate his birthday twice. My kids rolled their eyes at me, but he said, “Actually that happened once when I was a kid…”
I think it’s like magic, to be honest.
So when it’s time to change the clocks? Not my favorite. Not because I have to change many actual clocks anymore… but it’s just so mind bending to me. For days I’ll say things like “Well, it would really be 8, but it’s 9, but it feels the 8, right?”
So imagine how I felt when I realized that our road trip to Florida was going to have us cross time zones just hours before the clocks changed.
As we drove closer and closer to our destination, I kept watching the clock on my phone, waiting for it to jump. Finally it did. But it was so confusing.
What was 4:00 became 3:00, but in just a few hours that 3:00 would become 4:00 again, which would feel regular, but back home it would be … 5:00? Wait. Is there a diagram for this?
And what about those calls to Japan? It had been a 14 hour time difference, but then it became a 15 hour time difference for just a bit, then it went back to 14 hours. But back home, after the time change, I think it’s 13 hours?
“15 hours!” My daughter said it was the longest time difference they had had so far.
My son said, Well once you go past a 12 hour time difference, it sounds like it’s a bigger difference but it’s really a smaller difference because it’s getting closer to 24 hours which is no big deal because then you are just like a day different, but the time is pretty close. Like who cares if it’s Monday here and Tuesday there if it’s 8:00 am in one place, and 7:00 am in the other?
I tried to understand, I did. But I decided that if I am going to understand that, it won’t be after 10 hours in the car.
Once we unpacked, as we were trying to decide on timings and schedules, someone asked about the time change again.
“You gotta spring back!” I said, and my kids looked at me disappointedly. As they should have.
They yelled at me.
“Mom! You spring FORWARD! Maybe you shouldn’t be in charge of our schedule.”
And that’s what long road trips do to my already calendar-confused brain.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
This the dog that we love.
This is the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is the birthday bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is the beach That we were on getting the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is the book That I read while I sat at the beach That we were on getting the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is my family That listened to me talk about the book That I read while I sat at the beach That we were on getting the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
These are some of the people we love That helped my family That listened to me talk about the book That I read while I sat at the beach That we were on getting the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is the dog That loves these people that we love That helped my family That listened to me talk about the book That I read while I sat at the beach That we were on getting the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is my prayer That I’m sending the dog That loves these people that we love That helped my family That listened to me talk about the book That I read while I sat at the beach That we were on getting the picture of the dog That wore the bandana That sits by the bottle That was chewed by the dog that we love.
This is the dog that we love.This is the bottle that was chewed.This is the picture of the dog wearing the birthday bandanaThis is the book.This is my family.These are people we love.This is the dog that we love. This is the dog that we love.This is the dog that we love.This is the dog that we love.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I am driving. And I am writing in my head because what else can you do when it is dark and all the kids are sleeping?
So I am writing.
And skipping from song to song on my shuffled playlist, wondering why there are no good songs.
And I am lying to myself at every exit sign… telling myself I’ll just wait for a good place to stop and make a hotel reservation, and maybe write this for real.
Finally after an hour and a half I think to myself, “The next exit with a few choices that I can see, I will stop there!”
And a minute later, I see the Sheetz sign.
And even though we are still like 8 hours from home, I feel like we are close.
The kids wake up, and we buy weird late night sandwiches. Then we go between groggy silence and ridiculous conversation as I make a hotel reservation, and write this.
“Are you okay?” My daughter asks me?
“Yea. I’m just writing my slice,” I say, because in March… in March I have my priorities.
I mean, hours ago I made my daughter take a picture of the truck in front of us because it said TWT and I felt it was a reminder to write and post…on Two Writing Teachers!
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
We are at the beach. We are busying ourselves here at the beach. Trying hard to think only positive thoughts about our Finn. Watched a funny movie all snuggled in my bed last night. Worked out this morning, then the pool. In between we sat in the sun of the rental’s backyard. I told the kids to pretend for a minute that they believe in intention setting and energy. We sat and just thought about Finn. We imagined ourselves next to him in his doggy hospital bed. We imagined seeing him healthy in a few days, wagging his tail like nothing had happened. I can’t speak for the kids, but I imagined petting his soft soft ears. And I told him very lovingly but sternly that the people he is with are taking care of him. He might not be having fun but he needs to do everything they tell him to do, and then we will see him soon. After he gets better, he can run around and play with his best friend. His best friend’s person visited him today. He wagged his tail so hard his bandage flung across the room. She snuggled him and pet his soft, soft ears. She told him that the people he is with are taking care of him. She told him he can come play as soon as he’s all better. We spent the last few hours on the sand. The kids took a walk. I read. I gazed at the turquoise water. I told the little birds that landed next to me to please send some prayers to Finn. We are at the beach. I kept repeating it to myself. We are at the beach. We are at the beach.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
It was a great beach day.
Sun, sand, reading, relaxing.
Gosh I love being on vacation with my amazing kids.
But now we are 1200 miles away.
And the dog is at the emergency vet.
1200 miles is a lot of miles when the vet says scary things and your dog is going to be there for 48 hours. Because he ate all his medication. All of it. Way over the dangerous dose.
This slice is part of the March Slice of Life Challenge on Two Writing Teachers! #sol26. I’m slicing every day in March. Thanks for stopping by!
I’ve been made fun of for a lot of things in my life. This isn’t a sob story – I mean, obviously it has made me who I am today. Character and all that.
But, it is probably the reason why when my kids make fun of me …
I don’t really care.
I mean, so what if I talk to strangers when we are out?
Even the ones who are in the golf cart behind me as I try to figure out what I’m supposed to do if the parking lot ahead of me is full, and I don’t really know where to go in our golf cart at the moment.
“Sorry!” I yelled from my golf cart to theirs.
“It’s my first time! Here and in one of these things! And I’m not sure where to go next!
They yelled back to me, assuring me they were in the same boat (or cart, I guess) as me.
It felt like a friendly interaction, but boy oh boy were the kids annoyed. One of them claims that my speaking to strangers is damaging to them.
I think maybe since they don’t get made fun of as much as I did as a kid, I owe some embarrassment to them to help build their character…
I am glad they had already gone down to the beach though, when I was finally parking. I thought there was a spot, but it was a handicap spot. Just as I was figuring out how to turn the golf cart around, a man walked by and said, “I’m about to take my cart out of this spot if you are looking for a spot!”
And what did I say? Nothing crazy. It was a perfectly normal response.
I said, “Oh my god. I love you. Thank you.”
He was fine with it, laughed and said “You’re welcome.”
But the kids? they would have been devastated to hear me proclaim my love to the stranger who gave me his parking spot. It might have ruined this vacation I’ve taken them on.
On a Thought 