September 2016 – Hot Dog Cool Cats

This Is My Fight Song

And if you go chasing rabbits... — And if you go chasing rabbits…Fr:Morguefile forget-me-not By:TrisOfficial

So poor Momma’s Little Sister, Itty Bitty. If it is not enough that like Alice In Wonderland that she goes chasing rabbits and only pops out of the hole intermittently, then like Humpty Dumpty, she had a great fall….and all the King’s Horses and all the King’s Men….well, you know the story….couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.

It started simply enough….a call came saying Staff found her collapsed…but Itty Bitty had no clue how or where she even had been headed. An hour later, Itty Bitty was ‘Fine, just fine.’ A day passed without incident….then Itty Bitty was found passed out under the bed….but this time she told the staff, she was looking for her shoe….and no worries, an hour later, she was on her way to the dining room, ‘Fine, just fine.’

The very next morning Staff called Momma…Itty Bitty was confused…it was a Saturday, so they had to contact on ‘on call’ doctor before they could send her to the hospital. Thirty minutes later, when no doctor called back, an ambulance was ordered anyway. Itty Bitty was sent to Emergency and now Tag, the Hospital was ‘IT.’ Itty Bitty was their problem now….and good luck with that!

Like Humpty Dumpty, Itty Bitty is a challenge. Fr: Morguefile By: PeachyQueen

Now Emergency Departments see everything….unforgiving lethal gunshot wounds, cardiac arrests, killer strokes, gruesome car accidents….so Itty Bitty being ‘confused’, small potatoes, they sent her to SAZ (Special Assessment Zone) and labelled a sticker, overdose of painkillers from her diabetic foot neuropathy, a breeding ground of seething infections and boiling ulcers…..okay, said Momma….treat the symptom, to reduce the painkillers….sounds like common sense….but no….they sent her to Emergency Jungle…

You know where beds, with various poles of pumps and intravenous to treat assorted maladies, are parked like 747’s on the tarmac, awaiting clearance from the Control Tower….but there is no Delay Law…you can be in Emergency Jungle for days, your bed bumped every couple of seconds by another Patient, Visitor, Nurses, oh and the Maintenance, keeping the place clean, with those huge brooms and mops, while Itty Bitty awaits a room upstairs….it seems neurology is supposed to have some concrete understanding of confusion….

Finally a bed was secured in Neurology. Note: Bed which means, ‘no room in the inn.’….Itty Bitty got a corner, with a bed and a screen…it is all good…except for Itty Bitty who went from wired one day, to down that Alice In Wonderland Hole, only peeking out occasionally to say, um or um, um or um, um, um, um, um…..say what, Itty Bitty? Momma tried to feed her but as soon as it was forced in, Itty Bitty, pitched it out. And meds…forget med’s… Momma can not claim to be a Medical Genius but she was betting, putting all her money on it, in fact, that there was something not quite right.

The March Hare ready for tea with the Mad Hatter...of course! — The March Hare ready for tea with the Mad Hatter…of course! Fr: Morguefile DSC1347 By: Laura Musikanski

Day 4 Momma arrived at the hospital to find a room had become available, way down the hall. Itty Bitty was there but…the lights are on ….but she’s not home…she was so far down that Rabbit Hole that no one can rescue her. New Rules…Itty Bitty would kiss Momma, then grab her arm squeeze it tightly, leaving ugly bruises, take her hand, kiss it, then try to bite it.

By this time some blood test results had filtered back and a bed was being readied in the Cardiac Care Unit because there were enzyme abnormalities noted. Finally Itty Bitty fell in to a light sleep and Momma went for something to eat. Upon her return, there was Itty Bitty half in, half out of her bed, face purple, unable to breathe. Momma called out, in came the doctors, in came the nurses, in came the women with the big fat purses. But treatment was impossible. No one could reason with Itty Bitty. Even restrained, Itty Bitty managed to rip out her IV’s, her oxygen mask, even the cute little bow ties anchoring her wrists to the bed rails.

That was Itty Bitty…a mystery, even to the most been there, done that doctors, held together by a wing and a prayer. But, don’t be fooled. Itty Bitty had just begun her journey. She’d show the world:

This is my fight song….Take back my life song…Prove I’m alright song…
Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me……(paraphrase Rachael Platten)

Someday…We’ll Be Together

Everyone knows, like Jakita, I am a Policy and Procedure Wonk. There are rules to be followed, or you face the consequences.

I believe...do you believe? — I believe…do you believe?

Realists will tell you flights of fancy, like Fairies in the Garden, have never been established or proven. Still, as Ruby the Incredibly Wide Eyed Monkey, sometimes I want to check behind the mirror to understand the image, scour the bushes to look for evidence, live on the edge, embrace fantasy…..

Tell me, I beg you…what is real… what you see and hear or what you feel for no reason…like a mighty hand that reaches into your chest to squeeze your heart and your eyes tear up or a dazzling sabre of white light zips up your spinal cord and zaps your brain, rendering you breathless. And that has happened to me, so I know, I know, I should have paid more attention in Science Class.

Ruby, Tigger and Babby..chewed a bit, loved a lot... — Ruby, Tigger and Babby..chewed a bit, loved a lot…

Oh, that’s right…no classes for me…I’m inanimate … still I listen, bring comfort, cuddle and console…. I serve a purpose, helping little Two & Four Footed attain skills to become successful adults, compassionate and sensitive, even if it is not proven, documented and credited.

Yes, I wonder about the Great Beyond because well, Momma makes me curious. You see she has a big photo of RIP Daddy in the bedroom. Often she comes in, sits cross-legged on the bed, and communes with him.

Daddy, a good,good man who shared his breakfast, dinner and supper with me. I miss Daddy! — RIP Daddy, a good,good man.

Usually it is a silent session where she gazes at him, he stares back, always the same half-smile on his face. I hear no words, can only guess that in some way, it brings Momma some measure of peace that no scientist would recognize or acknowledge.

At other times Momma comes in, and talks out loud to RIP Daddy as she cleans and polishes his picture although it seems she doesn’t always meet her time requirements as she gets wrapped up in the conversation. RIP Daddy is always silently supportive. He seems to be a much better listener and never shows attitude, now that he has winged his way to Paradise.

Momma also will sometimes light a candle in RIP Daddy’s Memory and talks to him. The flickering flame, steady, bright, casts rainbow light beams through his very soul, (which is still alive, albeit in an alternate universe). And it was that manifestation and so much more that gripped my monkey soul, making me believe…..there is a lot to be understood… a lot that can not be ruled out.

One day, cross my heart and hope to die, I saw, I kid you not, as Momma sat there communing, a grey shadow, in the form of a man, separate from the flame and plant itself on the white wall in front of her. In the centre of the chest was a deep pink throbbing heart, while a river of silver seemed to start in his toes, dart up his legs and back, culminating in a ball like brain. Always in touch and in tune to the Spirit moving around us, Momma looked up and gasped. That is when a mighty hand reached into my chest to squeeze my heart. My eyes teared up and a searing sabre of light zipped up my spinal cord and zapped my brain, rendering me breathless…but don’t tell the scientists….they’ll laugh at both Momma and me.

Someday Well Be Together... — Someday We’ll Be Together…

Now, if you have a theory, do tell … otherwise like a UFO … all we know is the truth is out there.

There Is A Season

A time to be born, a time to die. A time to plant, a time to reap. (The Byrds)

Far be it from me to question Mother Nature, just like the Man in the Moon (Is a Newfie?) appears to be, well, I am having trouble saying this, but smarter than me.

Look at Mother Nature. One day it is hot as blazes, the next morning there are multitudes (it seems to me) of children swarming the sidewalks with bulging backpacks and new super charged runners with neon laces…..and you had better get out-of-the-way because those students in their fervor, can not even see a sable and white Policy Wonk Doggie like me. I tell you, brought up by wolves, I am thinking, like a bunch of magpies on speed, as they catch up on all their adventures since school ended last June. I mean, how important a mission can it be, in comparison to the Ultimate Earth Dog with Attitude, (not to be mistaken for the Beatitudes.)

Oh yes, as summer gives way to fall, first there is frost on the pumpkin, then the leaves drift down to the ground and Momma rakes and rakes and rakes some more….Like there should be a magnetized part of the lawn where those leaves gather in one spot…and I am so on it!!! Less work for Momma, more fun for me since I ♥ to bury myself under layers and layers of golden– orange–brown foliage.

Suddenly the trees stand naked to the world at large, shivering as their branches are bit by the dropping temperature. Winter has come…A season of magic as frozen raindrops turn to crystal white snowflakes, blanketing the ground, the trees and the glistening roof tops. I ♥♥♥ snow…to cavort in, to catapult myself over drifts, to burrow my nose deep, tracking the squirrels, chasing the winter birds, flying airborne, all the while my heart racing…. I know, I know, ‘You might be a Husky, if…Mush Mush is all you dream of.’

Good times always end but good news… I ♥ Spring… Ah, Mother Nature, you did it again.

Little buds break forth on trees, snow bells give way to every shade of tulips and yellow daffodils and all the little creepy crawlies resurface, again…..I am a committed bug, ant and worm enthusiast. I just sniff them – okay, okay, one day, I accidentally sniffed an ant up my nostril, got a most reprehensible tickle and snorted till it flew

a hundred miles an hour, over and out. Stop laughing. It is so NOT funny.

It seems in no time, flowers of all shades and colors adorn the gardens, the grass grows green and Summer has arrived. Sometimes it is a mite too hot, even in the shade but it is the nights that thrill me, when humidity and temperatures magically drop and the Big Old Moon rises, high in the sky, surrounded by enchanting, twinkling stars in an inky blue sky. You got it. I ♥ Summer….outside on a clear night, watching the God Given Light Show as the Angels and Fairies in our Garden gather to twirl in the Circle Dance… Cross my heart and hope to die.

There is a Season, turn, turn, turn (The Byrds)

It is a dilemma, Mother Nature. You make it impossible to have a favourite season…and if an Einstein Ultimate Earth Dog has problems deciding, pity the rest of the world.

Is It Too Late Now To Say Sorry?

Is it too late now to say Sorry? Yeah, I know that I let you down, Is it too late to say I’m Sorry now? (Justin Bieber) Psst…are you a Belieber???

So you know, no secret (except don’t tell Vladimir Putin…well, he probably already knows anyway) but Momma is a Canadian so like Justin Bieber, she is ‘Sorry ’ a lot….she has let your Comments grow, balloon, and fester as she did the bedside vigil for Little Sister Itty Bitty who miraculously and with the medical intervention of a sleep induced coma in Intensive Care (aka ICU), crawled out of her Alice In Wonderland Rabbit Hole, without even a rabbit to show for it.

Oh, there is a white rabbit now...... Bunny Family From Morguefile.com deemac1 — Oh, there is a white rabbit now……
Bunny Family
From Morguefile.com
deemac1

I mean Momma was expecting a polka dot, a pink or even a white rabbit but ‘nada.’ Even more frustrating for Detailed Oriented, Analytical Virgo Momma, Itty Bitty does not remember a thing. Her memory base, like a computer has been scrubbed clean for a two-week period. Wow, if only poor beleaguered Democrat Candidate Hilary Clinton could get her hands on that technology so her emails would be Gone With the Wind. The Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh Away…..

But still that greedy Momma wanted to hear when Itty Bitty crashed, had she talked with the Angels…nope, Grandmama or Grandpapa, nope, nope, what about RIP Daddy…did he appear, well no, but sort of in a dream, he had some advice about her wild sugar rides, both of them being diabetic with high and low no medium slow, for those two…and well, everyone knows where RIP Daddy is right now, so probably not best to heed him.

Here in Canada, we even like our Security Guards to be mounted. From Morguefile.com 000839318485 Clarita — Here in Canada, we even like our Security Guards to be mounted.
From Morguefile.com
000839318485 Clarita

There is so much ground to cover….like the ICU with the I-Got-the-Sickest-Relative-Dance…I mean, not only could one family claim that dubious title, but hands down their whole clan were more dysfunctional with gossip, innuendo, cheating, money grabbing infidels…and they literally moved into the Family Lounge, hogging the telephone (No cells???), taking two chairs each, (the second one for a footstool), grabbing hospital blankets and pillows to sleep overnight. Their overbearing attitude had no limits. They could not possibly have been Canadian….could they? Like where are the Security Guards when you need them? Even a Been–There–Done–That Momma was agog with each revelation.

Okay, okay, sorry...they are Momma's Great Grandparents....not Ma and Pa Kettle. — Okay, okay, sorry…they are Momma’s Great Grandparents….not Ma and Pa Kettle.

And so like a true polite ‘please and thank you, you-are-too-kind Canadian,’ ‘Sorry’….I ignored your Comments but the train is back on the track, even if Itty Bitty is still wandering around in the woods…Still, Momma, always the Optimist is thinking everything will all be back on schedule sometime soon, like Ma & Pa Kettle: ‘When we get round to it.’

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