Our Animal Children

I'll tell you now - writing this is for me and it's probably way more detail than anyone else cares about.  But I needed to write it and remember it and be thankful for it.  So you can't say you weren't warned!

If you have ever loved an animal, you know how sad it is to lose them.  I have cried many a tear in my life over a cat or dog and felt that deep hurt in my gut that I call grief. Maybe every animal we have seems dearer than the last, because we have them now, but ever since Randy died, I have dreaded the time when Sophie would follow him into heaven. She is not only the best dog in the world and the smartest, but she adored Randy and vice versa! He  put a lot of miles on her legs (and his) when she was a puppy and the trainers advised us to tire out her mouth (chewing bones) and her legs everyday so that she would be a good puppy! They walked all over both of our neighborhoods (we weren't married then) and more of our neighbors knew Sophie's name than ours!

So, when I look at Sophie, I not only see this incredibly wonderful dog - I also see Randy or at least feel his presence. It is a very comforting thing, but I know how difficult it will be to lose her, and also, in a way, lose Randy all over again. You may think that's weird (it's fine if you do!), but it's just the way I feel.

So, last night when I came home at 6:15 and found no Sophie on the deck, my radar went off and I immediately knew something was wrong. I called and she came stumbling up the stairs and swaying into the house, then collapsed on the floor. Her eyes were almost completely dilated, so they were black and she was pretty tense.  I started petting her and rubbing her, looking for a telltale spot. Lucy wanted to be all over her. My friend Mike was here to do some repair on a recliner, so he went into the yard, looking for anything that might have caused a problem. She relaxed a bit and took a few kibble (treats) from me, then decided to move into her inside kennel. She just seemed a little drunk. Mike worked on the chair while I called the Emergency Vet (hereafter referred to as ER!). Once they heard she was 10 years old, they just said to watch her. Before Mike left, he offered to go with me to take her and I decided it would be better to be safe than sorry. So we pulled our her dog ramps (from a bout of hip dysplasia she had at 2) and she walked up them and into the car where I'd laid the back seats down and put a bed on them and off we went, with Mike following in his car.

We arrived about 7 and first thing Sophie wanted was to do her business, so Mike took her while I checked in. He said she stumbled a little, but accomplished her objective. While we waited, she laid peacefully on the floor and wagged her tail whenever anyone walked through the waiting room. Finally, the Vet Assistant (VA) brought us into a room and examined her.  By now her eyes had returned to their normal beautiful expressive brown color.  While he was checking her out, her front legs shook almost violently for a bit.  After he left, we waited another good bit, then Dr. Townsend came in.  He got down on the floor with Sophie and examined her ultra-thoroughly from head to toe.  I told him that I hadn't warned her she would have to do yoga, as he was moving her neck from side to side (all the way to her back) and up and down!  She resisted more when he tried to move her neck to the left, but of course she did it, because she is a good dog, a Labrador, a dog who wants to please no matter how it hurts.  She never winced or whined, but I told him her pain tolerance story.  When she was about 3, her mouth swelled up but she continued to eat dry food and didn't complain when I messed with her.  I thought she'd been stung, but took her to the vet the next day.  Turns out she had an abscessed tooth which he said would have been killer pain, but never a sign of anything from Sophie.

Dr. Townsend said he thought it was probably a disk issue in her neck with inflammation causing her discomfort and the unsteadiness.  He also went through a list of things it could be (stroke, inner ear, etc.) but he didn't think so.  I then asked, "so she's not going to die?" (you realize I've never been to doggie ER before and she is my baby) and he smiled and reached back to knock on the baseboards (which are rubber) and said there was no indication of anything that serious.  At that point, I said "so I can cry now" and the tears of relief started.  I told Mike he could leave, since she was going to be OK and he did, but not before he took Sophie outside one more time.  When he came back he said she was more sure-footed than she'd been all night, so she seemed to be getting better on her own.

They did a complete blood work-up just to make sure nothing was awry and it wasn't - her blood levels all looked great!  So, she got a Tramadol pill and a spray of Metacam, which help with pain and inflammation and we paid the bill (not bad - under $250 - I had expected twice that much), the VA loaded her in my car and we came home.

At home before I could get the ramp under her, she jumped out of the back seat and splayed a little, but recovered and then wanted to check out not only our front yard, but all of the neighbors' yards as well.  I finally got her in (where Lucy was so excited to see us) and Sophie went straight to the treat jar (she always gets treats when she comes in from the front yard, as usually she is off-leash).  So she got a few kibble and we went to bed (she jumped up on the bed and just hung her back feet a little, but quickly pulled them up).  About 1 a.m. she was breathing heavily and panting and switching sides.  It seemed to go on for two hours and I was constantly touching her trying to comfort her.  Later she jumped down on the floor and went to sleep and I heard no more panting.  I decided she just had to get away from my neediness :)

This morning neither dog harassed me to get up, which is unusual, but when I did, Sophie followed me into the den, where they get a handful of kibble thrown on the rug as morning ritual.  For the first time I can ever remember, Sophie did not show any interest in kibble, even when I held it up to her mouth.  I got her pain pill and wrapped it in some cheese and she took that.  I took her out in the front yard and she did all her business, ate a little grass, then came back in and went straight to the treat jar (the old "I went in the front yard and came back in" look on her face), and this time she went after the kibble.  I fed the dogs and both ate as normal, then Sophie drank a lot of water (she hadn't drunk any since 6:00 yesterday), so things seemed normal.  We've been back out a few times and she acts like she'd like to walk further, but I don't want to push her.  She's been on the back deck on this beautiful day, but I keep telling her no when she goes to the stairs and looks down into the yard.  I think she'd like to go, but knows it's probably going to hurt.  For now, she's just going to be a front-yard dog.

My vet got the report from the ER and called me early today to check on her.  Other than the night panting, she has seemed fine.  I cancelled everything that was taking me out of the house today - I am home with a sick child :)  And, thankfully, I have a sick child to be home with (preposition, I know)!

Losing Sophie will be right up there with my top three worst things I've experienced so far in my life - losing Randy (2009), losing my Dad (2002) and losing Katy (2000), my almost 17- year-old Humane Society mutt.  I'd had dinner with friends Tuesday night and we talked about losing our 4-legged best friends, as one friend's "adopted" (her friend's dog, but she loves him like her own) 16-year-old golden retriever had been diagnosed in renal failure.  I kept thinking last night before we had any idea what was wrong that 10 is just way too young to lose a dog, even a big dog.  I know that when "it" happens, God will give me the strength to get through it, as he did with the three mentioned above and so many other things in life.  I just don't want that strength too soon, OK Lord?

Mostly I am thankful...that Sophie feels better, for a kind and compassionate ER vet and for the friendship of people like the Flynns.  It is interesting that Mike was there with me, as Sophie has always especially loved Mike. She has occasionally even shunned Sandra a little bit when she was with him (like, you had to bring her along?)!  So Mike definitely knew something was wrong as Sophie was not her usual adoring self. He was a great help and support and it's just one more reason for me to be thankful....

Just an update:  My vet doesn't think Sophie has any disk problems, as her mobility was as good as ever on Friday.  They think it was definitely a seizure, so I'm now "watching" her and hoping/praying it was a one-time event.  She seems fine now, but I am somewhat paranoid!

Tears, Laughter and Everything in Between

My feelings are so overwhelming that I’m not sure what to write or say.  There are so many emotions twisting inside of me that I can’t decide whether to laugh or cry or both.  Mostly I want to cry but then I remember the good side of what is making me cry.  Like I said I am so very emotional and so uncertain about what I feel or why.

My friend is 52 years old and has progressive MS.  She has persevered for more than 10 years since her diagnosis.  She had to retire early from a career  (United Methodist church minister) she loved, far more than I ever loved mine.  She is not married, has no children, and her mother died several years ago.  She has siblings, but they are busy with their own lives.

This week she made a move I cannot imagine.  She gave up her condominium and moved into an independent living facility.  The part of this that hurts me the most is that she gave up her dog of 10+ years – her constant companion and loving friend.  She did this willingly, as she knew her dog would do better in a new home than confined to a patio in her new home.  And, on top of this, she fell last week (while still in her condo) and probably fractured her tailbone.  So, when she tries to lift herself up with her arms, as she has always been able to do (you should see the bulging arm muscles she has for a skinny gal), she hesitates, due to the pain.  In that moment of hesitation, sometimes she loses her strength and starts to sway.  Somehow, she catches herself, or maybe one of us is nearby, but so far so good.

As she recovers from the fall and her pain lessens, I believe she will begin to enjoy her new life in a different place - a place where she gets her meals and does not have as many “responsibilities.”  A place where she has a beautiful and large living room full of windows and light and where people are welcoming and loving.  There are many complications to her situation; however, she has had an amazing outpouring of support – from friends, church, UMC pastors (active and retired) and, well you-name-it.  She is so loved and hopefully she feels that throughout her entire being this week and forever.

So, I go back and forth between saying I can’t wait to get to heaven to ask God why this has all happened to her and wanting to fall on my knees and thank God for all the blessings He has bestowed on all of us in this situation.  Regardless of which way I go, I seem to be full of tears. These tears are a combination of sadness and joy and sometimes both at the same time.  I am thankful for her internal and external strength and for her great faith.  Knowing her has made me a better person and I am thankful for her friendship.  I don’t understand so many things in this old world and I am emotional about many of these.  Sometimes emotions just don’t fall neatly into place like the moves usually portray them.  Sometimes these emotions are so confusing that they make the Hallmark Channel seem simplistic.  I believe this is one of those times….

Driving the Church Bus

Yes, you read the title correctly and I actually did this..... once. A few years ago, my church was trying to figure out how to get some folks from their homes or assisted living environments to church on Sunday, so a group of us volunteered to learn to drive the church van and each take one Sunday a month. I thought "how hard can this be?" and jumped on board.

I'm writing about it now, because I recently found the perfect birthday card for my friend Leslee (her birthday is September 10), who is integral to this story. Her card talked about the excitement of riding the church bus. Little did that card writer know that riding with me would be pretty exciting!

My Sunday came. Randy, who was using a walker at the time, and I drove up next to the bus and I opened it up, having gotten the key a day or two before. The first obstacle was a spare tire in the back where wheelchairs would need to go. I couldn't budge the giant tire. Fortunately there was a nice man hanging out nearby and he took care of the tire for me. So, I practiced the lift loading process with Randy and we were off!

I'm not sure of the order I picked people up in, but I believe we picked up my friend Leslee first, as she was closest to the church and that gave me another chance to practice using the lift door on someone using a walker! Next we went to Andover Place where we picked up a great gentleman named Lloyd who was in a wheelchair. Lloyd was loaded in safely and we were off to Pleasant Hills to pick up Priscilla. We couldn't drive up to the door, because of an overhang that was too low (or a church bus that was too tall), so I walked Priscilla down to the bus. She loaded on just fine and found a seat. Then the challenge started. I could not get the lift doors to close completely. I tried every button and combination of buttons and nothing worked. I went to the outside of the doors and pushed, but they just wouldn't close enough to lock. I was very frustrated and about to cry or scream, but was trying to keep my sense of humor. It broke my heart to see the look on Randy's face when he couldn't help me, although I'm pretty sue he made a joke about it (knowing Randy). After a few minutes, a couple of able-bodied, nice ladies walked by and I asked them to push on the outside while I pulled on the inside. Thank the good Lord, that finally worked! So we were off to church.

When we arrived and I dropped off everyone at the church door, I went around back to park the van in its designated spot. However, someone had the audacity to have parked their car in that spot. So I drove back around to the front and parked illegally at the curb. Needless to say I was not very happy. When Randy and I went into church, I tried to talk the policemen who were there drinking coffee (on a break from directing traffic, since church had started) into giving the person a ticket. But since it wasn't a handicapped space, they said they couldn't do much. We actually went to a church service, but I am sad to say I remember nothing about that experience.

As soon as church was over, I headed for the van to pull it up to the church doors. However, people were coming across the parking lot on walkers or wheelchairs and so it was fairly chaotic. That meant opening the lift doors a few extra times, which already had me worried. But, somehow, everyone got loaded onto the bus and we were off. I took Priscilla back to Pleasant Hills first. Since she was on a walker, she just went down the steps, with a little help. Then we headed to Andover. As we turned the corner from Pleasant Valley Drive onto Cantrell, I was, perhaps, going a tad too fast. I could see the back row in my rear view mirror. Randy was next to the window and Leslee was next to him on the bench. Then Mr. Lloyd, in his wheelchair, was next to Leslee. As I turned the corner, I saw Leslee disappear from my view and Randy's head where Leslee's was. I immediately slowed down (a little late) and asked if everyone was ok. They were all laughing, so I took that as a good sign. Leslee had more or less slipped into Mr. Lloyd's lap, although not completely. They righted themselves and we continued on. When we arrived at Andover and I got Mr. Lloyd out of the van, via the lift (which doors were now operating perfectly), I apologized to him for the mishap. He laughed and said "Are you kidding? That's the most fun I'll have all day!" So all was well.

I got back in the driver's seat and we took Leslee home, then back to the church to secure the van and lock it up, return the key and head for home. Randy and I laughed most of the way home at my need to volunteer for things at church, but I knew when I had been bested. I told him I would resign from the van driving team (which I did when we got home). So, I'm sorry in a way that I didn't try again - I'm sure I would have ended up with more ammunition for good stories, but my frustration most likely would have gotten the better of me, so, it's probably like the old saying - all's well that ends well!

Forever

Are you looking for me here?
I think my heart has gone away
to the heavens with my love
Forever.

You may see me here
But I’m not really here.
In my mind I’m already there.
Forever.

When my soul mate left this earth
My spirit followed him
And that me has gone away
Forever.

There is a new me I don’t really know
She cries when she doesn’t know why
And she feels so out of place
Forever.

I am looking for me here
My heart knows it has to stay for now
Although for now won’t last
Forever.

The old me and the new me
have to live in a kind of harmony,
As long as we are here, though not
Forever.

But when we get there
To God’s new land of love
I know that Me will have no sadness
Forever.

The love and the music and
jewels of so many crowns
will show the Me who can worship Him
Forever.

August 11, 2011 - in memory of Randy

Congress - elected officials or ego maniacs?

I cannot believe that the U.S. Congress does not understand the meaning of the word “compromise.” So many of them (Republicans AND Democrats) are acting like spoiled children, demanding they get everything they want with no concession. Can’t we all give a little bit, in the best interest of our country? Is it all about individual egos or re-election campaigns? If is it, then these current congress people should all be voted out and just come home, as they don’t understand they are there for the benefit of the country (and their constituents) and NOT for their own personal interest.

I am so very frustrated by this entire process – I try not to pay much attention, as it just infuriates me every time I hear someone talk about how they won’t compromise (I don’t think the Tea Party is an accurate name – there’s nothing party-like about these people!). I’m thinking our founding fathers are probably swirling in their graves these days.

I’m still hoping and praying this will be settled, but I’m not hopeful about the next issue to be debated. I don’t ever remember such division or lack of unity among our leaders. I’m not sure if it’s an Obama-hate thing (I wouldn’t think so, because I know a lot of people intensely disliked George W) or what, but I, for one, am sickened by it. It seems like every time one of them speaks, all you can hear is a massive ego and a lot of hate speaking. What happened to the “United” in USA?

I certainly don’t have the answers. I am not a politician and wasn’t even very good at handling politics in the corporate world, much less at this level. All I know is that as an ordinary citizen, I am very concerned about our congressional leaders and their lack of ability to compromise. You may be one who blames Obama for this (I don’t, but I admit, I’m prejudiced – I like him and think he is trying to lead a compromise), but one person cannot possibly be responsible for hundreds of congressmen/women acting like idiots. And if they are acting like this just in the hopes of keeping him from being re-elected, then shame on them. If they’re willing to let our country and all of its citizens suffer just for that, then they don’t understand much about patriotism. Maybe we should let our returning veterans start making these decisions? I think they could probably figure out how to get along with people who aren’t shooting at them!

I know God has everything under control, but sometimes when I listen to the news, I get overwhelmed by the negative. I said earlier I can’t stand to watch or read much about this, because I get so angry and that’s not a pretty sight. I guess I can join many other people in saying God Bless America…. however, I’m also a believer in the statement that God helps those who help themselves (i.e., who don't act completely for their own selfish, ego-maniacal interests).

Congress, are you listening?

The "sneakies" - or grief, continued....

Friends call it the "sneakies." I am referring to those moments when suddenly you feel the wind almost knocked out of you because of the surprising reality that the person you've lost (or their memory) is there with you or you know they are not and that is just as bad, if not worse. I have experienced several of those lately, although maybe what happened yesterday didn't really sneak up on me, as it was our wedding anniversary.

We had a special service at church and they showed pictures of the veterans, including Randy. His picture always makes me smile, as he was young and skinny with black horn rimmed glasses and he's holding a bottle of Coke and making the peace sign. Needless to say his was the only veteran's picture with a peace sign! Even with this, I was fine until we sang "This is my Song" at the end. If you're not familiar with the words, you can look it up here: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Is_My_Song_(1934_song). It basically says "I love my country and think it's the greatest, but so do lots of other people, so let's remember that and respect each other" (or that's my summary). It was one of Randy's favorite hymns and is sung to the tune of Finlandia. If you were able to be at his memorial service, the pianist played it as we left, I think.

It seems like I've had more clutching moments lately and I think this is because my younger cousin just lost her 52 year old husband to cancer a few weeks ago. I feel her pain so deeply - it seems to have merged with my own grief, which I guess is natural. The same thing happened to my mom when Randy died. She seemed to relive the grief of losing my dad all over again. I'd never really thought about this happening and maybe it's not common, but it makes sense to me that the untimely death of my cousin's husband stirred my grief, since I connected it to Randy's also untimely death.

Another sneaky moment occurred recently when I was walking out of Whole Foods in Little Rock. There was a musician playing reggae and as soon as I heard it, I felt like Randy was right there. I knew he wanted me to dig out a $2 bill and put it in the tip jar, but I'm sorry to say I didn't do this. My arms were full of bags and because i was temporarily taken aback by the overwhelming memory of Randy, I didn't stop. Later that night, a friend e-mailed and said there were a few $1 coins in the tip jar at the Historic Arkansas Museum that evening, so she felt Randy had slipped in without her seeing him!

I did stop at a lemonade stand some kids had on the street the other day and get a lemonade in exchange for a $2 bill. This made me so happy, because it was such a Randy-like thing to do! The three kids (and their mom) all had red hair, so that made it seem even more connected to Randy.

One other thing seems relevant here. Recently I read a manuscript of a book about grief written by someone I know. This author was writing about her mother's death and many things she said hit me directly, but one thing was the most touching. She talked about being overcome by envy as she watched other good people doing for their mothers, as she had no mother anymore. She went on to say that irrational envy and bitterness are common feelings of the bereaved. I have to admit that sometimes I have been envious or even a bit angry as I watch other couples do normal couple things. My major sore spot is when I hear women speak carelessly or even hatefully about their husbands. I want to grab them and shake them and say "you better be nice - you may not have them forever!" I know that a lot of their comments are said in jest and maybe just because someone else started it, but it really frustrates me. I have said something in a few cases and I imagine people wonder what's wrong with me and why I am so crabby, but I didn't really care :)

Passionate Physicians

I had a surprise a few weeks ago at UAMS. Dr. Harrington (who was Randy’s palliative care doctor) spoke to our CPE group. It was good to see her, but when I tried to tell the group how much palliative care in general and Dr. H, in specific, meant to me, I cried almost as much as I talked. That was the first time in over a month that I have cried about Randy, so it surprised me. However, it was OK, as the CPE group is certainly the right place for tears. They surrounded me with hugs and pats – these people really know how to be a compassionate presence ☺

Palliative care - more than hospice, in that it is comfort and pain relief even in non-life threatening situations. I look forward to the day when it is discussed openly with patients in early stages of disease, so that they can prepare for the end stages. Palliative care focuses on quality of life (physical, social, spiritual and psychological - all are included) and differs from person to person, as we each uniquely define quality of life. What a blessing it is to have this as part of our "official" medical care, even though it has a long way to go to be an expected service.

Then last Tuesday, I saw Dr. Hutchins (Randy's oncologist at UAMS). I was visiting patients and she was making rounds, with an entourage of fellows, residents, etc. I was updating my chaplain visits on a computer outside a room when I heard her voice. She went into a patient's room and I finished my updates, then headed down the hall. She came out at that point and we looked at each other. I saw recognition in her eyes, but since she meets so many people, I said "I am David Moore's wife. I am in the CPE intern program here." It was nice, because she smiled big and said "Thank you for clueing me in. I knew you, but not with a badge. (I was of course, wearing my UAMS badge, prominently displayed.) It is good to see you." I wanted to give her a big hug, but didn't, since, as I said, she had an entourage with her. Thinking back, I wish I had, because it wouldn't hurt for the people with her (learning from her) to see how wonderful it is for a physician to be so loved and appreciated, not because she "fixed" the patient, but because she showed compassion in every stage of that patient's treatment. If I had talked to her very long I would have cried, because of the memories and because she is such a kind and caring lady and doctor, and that is a huge blessing for all of us who meet her.

I often think of Dr. Colman (neuro-oncologist at MD Anderson) as well. He was brilliant, but he took time on every visit to answer all of our questions (and Randy, being the smart and inquisitive internet-researcher he was, always had several!). I think of Dr. Colman's last phone call to me, the day after Randy died, and how obvious it was in his voice that he was sad. I don't particularly remember the words he used, but I clearly sensed his feelings. I know I thanked him for the extra quality and quantity of life he had given Randy, and I know I cried a bit, but I hope he felt as comforted at the end of the conversation as I did.

I may write often about sad memories, but not because they make me sad. Instead they make me feel so blessed, as Randy had such wonderful doctors and nurses in his fight. I know he was a popular patient, as he kept that crazy sense of humor, but regardless, they would have been exceptional and loving and kind - that's just who they are. God bless them, everyone.