I got up at 4:30 in the AM today to go to the surgery center by 6:15. I had the Essure procedure. It is a sterilization procedure that is different than a tubal ligation. The doctor goes in with an endoscope through the vagina and places a small spring in each fallopian tube. Over the next three months the tubes will scar down over the springs. At that time I go back to get a contrast x-ray to make sure there the tubes are closed and - voila!- no babies. Also there is no incision, no downtime besides what the anesthesia requires, and no scars so I can keep being a bikini model if I so desire (and if anyone would be the least bit interested in seeing that!)

They were all amazed that at the ripe old age of 35 this was my first surgical procedure. I’ve never had an IV placed so I couldn’t answer questions about which vein is usually used. My medical history tends to be terribly boring.

It was about 6:45 when they started prepping me. The first thing they did was have me lie down on the bed and cover me with warm blankets. From that point on I was fighting to stay awake. I’m so not a morning person. In recovery they asked me if I wanted to sleep a bit more. The answer to that question is always yes in my world!

I was getting in the car at 9:00 AM to go home. I have some cramping. I hate cramping. The pain of breaking bones has always been less than the pain of cramping. But I have happy drugs for pain. I came home and went to sleep again. Powder immediately came in and slept on my stomach. Very helpful. I did get up once and eat some carrot cake and Riley licked the plate. After that they just slept with me for most of the afternoon.

Before I fill in at one local vet’s clinic I give both of my sewing friends a speech. They both go there and I don’t want to get any horrible emergency calls about any of their animals. It has always worked until this week.

On Monday I got a call from C saying that her Yorkie got kicked. The dog ended up with a broken pelvis. They are now calling her my soulmate since we’ve had the same injuries. She’s on cage rest which is making her insane.

T keeps calling because her mare is due to have a baby but doesn’t really seem to be the least bit inclined to do it. This is not unusual at all but the whole family is fluttering like anxious mother hens.

Then yesterday C’s daughter called. Their very old (38+) Morgan was down in her stall and couldn’t get up. I went over after appointments but I knew there wasn’t going to be anything I could do for her. She didn’t even have the strength to raise her head. I ended up putting her to sleep. It was really sad. Her person was there with her. She had been one of my 4-Hers. She is also the official owner of the Yorkie. She said at one point that she was going to go hug her cat since it was the only uninjured pet she had left.

One interesting thing happened. As I was getting close to the end of the injection, I felt the moment when Dancer died. Nothing seemed to change physically but I felt her go. A split second later their geese came flying over from the other side of the property and started screaming. That lasted 2 - 3 minutes. I was trying to listen to her heart to confirm her death but couldn’t do it until the geese settled down. I guess they were sending Dancer off on her way.

I was labeled a “responsible person” yesterday. As in “People under 42 inches tall may ride this ride only with a responsible person.”

There was a small carnival set up at a local mall. The SO and I took Z there. She and I got unlimited ride passes. This freed her father to keep us supplied with cotton candy, watch the bizarre people in that town, and continuously calculate how many more rides we each had to go on to make our unlimited passes cost-effective. It was fun.

I’ve always had this theory that handling kids would be a lot like handling horses. I think I proved that to myself yesterday. I took Z in the bathroom. When we were done we were waiting in the hall for her dad to be done. She decided to run off. I called her back and she ignored me. I instinctively responded by calling her name in the tone that is usually reserved only for Spirit’s more obnoxious moments. I gave her the look that I usually use on him to let him know that he’s gone too far and I combined it a hand signal that I learned for recalling my dog in obedience class. She came back immediately. It cracked me up!

After that we drove to a very cool playground. On the way she was saying that she wanted to go home and have dinner. We told her that since she didn’t have a driver’s license that she’d have to do what we wanted which was to eat cotton candy and play on the playground. She objected and again wanted dinner and to go home. I don’t know where he has failed in raising this child and teaching her priorities…. (She got dinner later - don’t call children’s services.)

He and I had a vicious game of tetherball. I got smashed in the face with the ball. That made me even more determined to beat him. We ended up laughing so hard that we could hardly hit the ball. It was a very good way of stress relief. I’m thinking that we need to install a tetherball pole here and whenever we annoy each other we should go take out our frustrations on the ball. (I ended up losing. There has to be a rematch.)

I’m having a surgical procedure on Monday. I was supposed to be at the surgery center at 8:30 AM. It is an hour away from home. I was whining about having to leave my house at 7:30.

I got a call today and a cheery lady left me a message that my arrival time has changed. “We’ll see you at 6:15 AM!”

At least I’ve save on anesthesia since I’ll probably still be asleep…..

I have to declutter my house tonight. Guess what the special occasion is? I have a house cleaner coming tomorrow. (You know that hiring a cleaner requires you to do as much cleaning as you would have done anyway.) Even worse it is a house cleaner that I work with at a vet clinic on occasion. It is time to hide anything embarrassing…

Kati asked what kind of stuff the SO reads. He is a lot like me in that he reads just about anything - fiction, biography, history, business, etc. What has been interesting is that I’ve been giving him things to read and movies to see that I like but that he hasn’t read yet. So far he’s liked them all. Here a list of my recommendations. I’ve started to wonder what this lists says about me.

Books:

The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan - serious
The Eyre Affair by Jasper FForde - smart and literary but funny
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett - religious/antireligious, funny

Movies:

I Am Legend and Shaun of the Dead (for the zombie double header)
Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle - so stupid it is hysterical
Superbad
Hot Fuzz
Accepted - the best higher education plan ever

That might just come as close to summing up my goofy psyche as possible without disclosing my possibly unhealthly love of anything Kevin Smith writes.

I was kidnapped last night and taken here. It was a very nice state park resort.

Here was the actual plan I was told. Remember I was told this by a male person. He wanted to go to this park because there was a big fireplace with rocking chairs in the lodge and it was a good place to sit and read. (There were actually all kinds of other things to do outside but it was raining so we did inside things.) I actually managed to find a guy who not only likes to read but who likes to go special places to read! He doesn’t quite understand why I think this is a good thing. I keep telling him that I’ve never dated anyone who would choose to read a book unless they were locked in a room with only a book for entertainment. Even then it had better have pictures. He thinks I’m making fun of him but this is a very good thing.

There was also swimming and a sauna and a restaurant with views of squirrels fighting over the bird feeders. Very nice mini-vacation.

This weekend I completed another of my 101 Things in 1001 Days. I volunteered at a soup kitchen. I thought this one might be really hard since I couldn’t find any info about a local place to volunteer. Turns out that area churches have a schedule where they take one night a week and make a meal. The SO’s church does Sunday nights. (Yes, I’m dating a church-going Christian. Yes, that was on my list of absolute no-nos. I’m filing this under the heading of “nobody’s perfect” and moving on.)

I’d done a lot of serving at homeless shelters in TN. It was a big operation. It was like a cafeteria. It wasn’t like that at all here. It was much smaller. They made up the plates of pasta, salad, and bread ahead of time and then just added whatever sauce the people preferred. The servers here were a bit odd. They didn’t seem to want to interact with the people they were serving. They would whisper about the people coming through the line, especially in the cases where they knew the families of the people. It didn’t seem very nice. The SO and I went out and ate with the group with everyone else seemed to barricade themselves in the kitchen. Odd.

This is from an old Bon Appetit magazine I found lying around a clinic. Fast, easy, and very good.

6 oz baby carrots finely chopped
2 T butter
1 cup orzo
1.5 cups water
1.25 cups vegetable broth
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
2 T chopped green onions
1 teaspoon rosemary

Melt butter in medium saucepan. Add orzo and carrots; saute 5 minutes. Add water, broth, and garlic. Cook uncovered until liquid is absorbed stirring frequently, about 10 minutes. Stir in cheese, onions, and rosemary. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

I survived the meeting of the mother and the SO. However, I don’t believe that the SO fully grasped what I meant when I said that my mom and I talk all the time but don’t talk about anything to do with feelings. He has pretty much no filter on feelings talks and he likes to talk so he was way more open with my mother than I would have liked. Since I tended to be sitting between them I couldn’t subtly hit him to make him stop. Besides, the one time I tried it he told my mother that I had just hit him!

It started with his comment about the first time I cried in front of him. I actually laid down on the ground (I was already sitting on the ground) and covered my face with my hands. This was public humiliation at the worst. I’m known in my family as a cold-hearted b*tch with no emotions. Now within minutes of meeting my mother he’s revealing that not only do I cry but that I’ve done it more than once. My mother looked over at me. He intercepted the look and said, “She’s really emotional.” My mother replied, “She does her best to hide it.” I was praying to any God who was interested to kill me now.

He probably revealed more personal stuff to my mother than she’s ever known about me. She knew it was killing me and she seemed quite amused by it. From now on I will have to be quite specific on my gag orders.

My mother-person is coming to visit for a few days. That means that I have to endure the horrible ritual of introducing the parent to the new boyfriend. That’s always worse for me than for anyone else involved. I really thought I wasn’t going to have to do this again ever. LOL.

I have a barn cat that was brought by her mother to live in my barn last spring. I named her Baby because she was a baby when she came here and I’m creative like that. Since then I’ve worked on taming her so she would be nice when the time came to take her to get spayed. I went overboard on the training and created an attention-seeking monster. She plays with people. She plays with horses. She tries to play with opossums.

I’ve been procrastinating about her spay. I figured that I had to get serious about it when she was gone for a few days two weeks ago. I decided that yesterday was the day. I caught her in the morning and put her in a cardboard carrier. I went out to catch the horses. When I came back in she was sitting next to the still closed carrier. She’s a magic cat. I caught her again and put the carrier in the car. When I came back from brushing my hair she was sitting looking out the back window. I decided she could stay out of the carrier.

She found the office a fine place to hang out. She was in a cage with a towel. Towels are fun to play with. I’ve never seen a cat more relaxed in my life. Dogs were barking and she was stretched out like she was on the best vacation ever.

Surgery went fine but apparently I was right about her whereabouts a few weeks ago. She gets to stay at the clinic for a few days since she can’t stay in the house here. (The resident house cats would punish her severely for getting ideas above her station!)

I’d be all excited about having all my barn cats spayed if Baby hadn’t brought home a new friend from her weekend of debauchery. I can’t be sure of the sex of this friend but I have a working theory that every barn cat is a girl and that they spontaneously reproduce so I’m betting she’s female.

I had a morning that most people wouldn’t describe as fun but I’m absolutely bubbly.

First I had a mammogram. This was made even more fun than normal because my mass is underneath and against the body wall. It isn’t exactly easy imaging. I’ve decided that my next mass will be located in an easily accessible place.

Then I had to pick up my ultrasound and report because I’m scheduled to see a specialist next week for a biopsy. I asked for the report since my doctor’s office didn’t tell me what they said. It is the most useless piece of medical reporting ever. It says that it might be a papilloma. Then again, it might be a intramammary lymph node but probably not. It might be a carcinoma. It doesn’t actually say, “Beats me what it is” but that would have been more to the point.

I had to go back and pick up my ultrasound because I was so excited about errand number 2 of my day that I forgot to take it with me.

I filed for divorce!!!

That made me bubbly. I wanted to jump up and down, clap my hands, and yell, “Yay!!!”

I’m heading out to Oregon tomorrow to meet with the corporate high muckety mucks about the practice I’d like to buy. I need to feel comfortable with them and they need to approve me. I’m most excited about going letterboxing tomorrow in a city park where the letterboxes are so thick that one would think you’d be tripping on them as you walk about. I’m sure this probably means that I won’t be able to find any!

Last Saturday morning I found a mass in my left breast. This came as a bit of a shock since I’m sure that it hadn’t been there the day before. It was quite large and unmistakable. I immediately go into clinical mode on these things - “Rapid onset of a large mass, slightly sore, I’m 35 with no family history of breast cancer so either it is nothing or I’m going to be dead in a week.” Unbelievably that kind of self talk relaxes me.

My next decision was whether or not to tell the SO (I’ve decided for lack of a more original name at this time to call him the SO for significant other - this may change). He has had cancer himself and his mom died of cancer two years ago. He did not take this calmly. He did show an admirable amount of understanding about me though by making me solemnly swear to play nice with the human doctors and do everything they say. (This was the day before I spent quality time with him in the hospital where he declined to play nice with the human doctors.)

The next challenge was getting someone to see me. On Monday I started trying to get an appointment. My ob/gyn just had a baby - something you’d think she should know how to prevent- and her office couldn’t get me in with another doctor until 4/22. For a breast mass they wait three weeks? I don’t wait more than one day for a new mass on a dog. (Repeat after me. Play nice with the human doctors. Play nice with the human doctors….) My family doctor could see me today.

Here’s where I made a huge error of judgment. I stayed at the SO’s house last night. The appointment was early morning so I decided to leave Snowball there, go to the appointment, and then pick up Snowball, and go home to feed the horses. The mass was down to about a 1/4 of the size it was 6 days ago so I figured it was nothing. The doctor agreed it was probably nothing but wanted an ultrasound and mammogram. She wanted to schedule it for Monday but I’m out of town. She wanted me to reschedule my trip but I can’t. Well, if I thought I was dying I probably could have but there are limits to how much I’m willing to play nice. She called the ultrasound place and got me in right away. So at noon I’m in another office having an ultrasound. What am I thinking about? Oh my god, Spirit is going to kill me!

After the ultrasound the tech took the images to the radiologist to see if he wanted a mammogram right away or if the one scheduled for next week would be ok. He said that next week was fine so I’m assuming that the mass isn’t too scary-looking.

I ran back and picked up a very angry dog and headed home. I called the SO to try to calm him down. Then I faced the beast. It was 1:00 PM. Sometimes the only thing you can do when you come face to face with a screaming, kicking ball of fury is yell “I’m sorry!” over the ruckus, open the stall door, and get the hell out of the way.

Now I’m waiting for a repairman to come see my refrigerator which died over the weekend. I need to know if it can be revived or if I need to get a new one. I also called my barn builder to get him to come out and fix the large barn door that fell off the overhead track. Everything is just wearing out around here!

There is something beeping in my house. It has been beeping every few minutes for several days. I can’t find the source. I think it is in my computer room but I wouldn’t bet my life on it.

I’m about to go insane!

I’m bordering on delirious. I’ve been up since 7:00 yesterday morning. It is now 7:00 at night. This is totally not a normal thing for me.

After I wrote the last post I went over to the new guy’s house (He so needs a blog name but I can’t come up with anything.) He mentioned that he didn’t feel well. This will go down as one of the major understatements of the year. Fast forward several hours later and many episodes of severe illness later, to 1:00 AM when I hear a huge thud. I ask if he’s ok and get silence. Then he asks fairly calmly if I could come there for a second. I open the bathroom door and am greeted by the sight of him standing there covered in blood. He passed out (probably from dehydration) and hit his head and cut open a big chunk above his eye. I got that cleaned up enough to see that he needed stitches so I got him off to the hospital. That was an event. He was tired, weak, sick, slightly loopy from head trauma, and sort of weird even with none of those things going on. I’m sure it looked like I was leading the drunken loser of a bar fight into the ER.

It was a long night. The ER doc was a jerk to me. When the new guy (needs a name!) said that I said he needed stitches, the doc snapped, “Who is she to say you need stitches? Is she a nurse?” He replied in this very tired and sort of pitiful voice, “She’s my vet.” Like that explained everything. But it did turn the doc around. He started saying how much he liked vets and how we are better than human doctors since we can diagnose without conversing with our patients.

Eventually, the wound was glued and he got a bag of fluids and I got him home at 5:10 this morning. I cleaned up all the blood in the bathroom and figured out that he hit his head on the inner rim of the bathtub which takes major skill. Then I headed off to work. I actually felt pretty good until I would sit down. I’m going over to his house now to make sure that he is still alive and to crash. I’m planning on being unconscious until sometime tomorrow!

Last Wednesday I met up with a person who reads this blog, Olivia (who really needs to get her own blog so I can link to her) and her friend Pam. They kindly offered to show me around LA.

The first place we went was a small cemetery in the middle of town where all kinds of famous people are buried. This is was item #9 on my 101 Things in 1001 Days list. We saw Marilyn Monroe’s headstone with fresh lipstick kiss marks on it. We also had to get a picture with this guy since he was the whole reason I was there in the first place.

Then we went to the Chinese Theater and saw the hand and foot prints in the cement. As a die hard Harry Potter fan I had to get this one.

And we need evidence of horses that do more than hang around and complain that I’m not feeding them often enough.

That’s Roy Rogers and Trigger if you can’t read it well.

We also went to look at the Kodak Theater (home of the Oscars). There was a whole group of kids waiting in line at Hot Topic because Panic at the Disco had been there. Olivia and I are so not hip because we had no clue who that was. I still don’t but she found out that they had been on Saturday Night Live recently. Then we went to dinner at El Chollo which had very nice vegetarian enchiladas.

The next day I flew out at 6:30 AM to head back home. I got home at 6:30 PM and went out to dinner and crashed at an airport hotel. I left the next morning at 6:00 AM to go judge a trail ride in North Carolina. It was cold and wet. Bone chillingly cold and wet. This was my favorite competitor of the weekend.

He’s an 18.2 hand, 1800 lb Belgian who did great on the 40 mile ride. He was hard to examine though because his back was 8 inches over my head. I had to reach up to feel if he had a sore back. He also decided that I was not examining his mouth. He just put it up out of reach and said, “What are you going to do about it, puny human?” Answer - not much. The picture doesn’t really do him justice but if I was standing next to him, my head would be at about the level of his rider’s knee.