Sunday, July 8, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
The Blackout
Friday night, storms blew through Our Nation's Capital and knocked out power to pretty much everyone. Our electric company services about 830,000 customers in Northern Virginia and was reporting outages to about 350,000 of those customers on Saturday. The District of Columbia and Suburban Maryland face a similar situation with about 350,000 outages. Heading south, the power is on in Fredericksburg, but not in Woodbridge, at least as of yesterday.
By the way, did I mention we're in a heat wave? It was 104 on Friday, 98 yesterday, 94-97 expected today. I hate hot weather and I know I'm quite a wuss about it, but 104 is fucking hot. It's so humid you can actually smell it. That's right. Humidity has an actual not-unpleasant odor. Kind of green and sweet.
We slept at home Friday night. Once the storms passed, there was some cooler air behind it and it was reasonably comfortable, although I had to sleep without my medical device, which meant I slept in 45 second increments for about 3 hours. Our first thought was to check for outage updates. There was no telephone connection, either on the cell or the land line. There was no internet because I used up the battery powering one of my medical devices. OK then. Let's just assume the power will not be restored on Saturday. Plan: Board the dog at the vet and move into a hotel. No problem.
We couldn't call the vet, so we drove there. No power at the vet. The size of the issue was beginning to occur to us. We couldn't get home on the back roads because of downed trees and power lines. We turned on the radio and learned, oh! it's the entire National Capital Region. They were listing hotels with vacancies and gas stations with power, the assumption being that everything was closed unless they were on the list. There is no way we're finding a hotel that accepts dogs and has a room.
Ponder ponder ponder.
By the way, did I mention we're in a heat wave? It was 104 on Friday, 98 yesterday, 94-97 expected today. I hate hot weather and I know I'm quite a wuss about it, but 104 is fucking hot. It's so humid you can actually smell it. That's right. Humidity has an actual not-unpleasant odor. Kind of green and sweet.
We slept at home Friday night. Once the storms passed, there was some cooler air behind it and it was reasonably comfortable, although I had to sleep without my medical device, which meant I slept in 45 second increments for about 3 hours. Our first thought was to check for outage updates. There was no telephone connection, either on the cell or the land line. There was no internet because I used up the battery powering one of my medical devices. OK then. Let's just assume the power will not be restored on Saturday. Plan: Board the dog at the vet and move into a hotel. No problem.
We couldn't call the vet, so we drove there. No power at the vet. The size of the issue was beginning to occur to us. We couldn't get home on the back roads because of downed trees and power lines. We turned on the radio and learned, oh! it's the entire National Capital Region. They were listing hotels with vacancies and gas stations with power, the assumption being that everything was closed unless they were on the list. There is no way we're finding a hotel that accepts dogs and has a room.
Ponder ponder ponder.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
RAGE!
I was once all psyched because I had tickets to see Juventus play DC United on July 28. At RFK. OK, so RFK is the hole-iest of holes and (shaped like a toilet, smells like a toilet) most of my favorite players were probably not going to be there. And it would probably end up being the hottest day of the year and I'd have to take the metro and be forced to have my sweaty, stinky body pressed up against the sweaty, stinky bodies of other people (ew). I'd probably get a heat headache and end up dehydrated for three days, but I had tickets to see Juventus and all of that was going to be worth it. But they fucking canceled. Those fuckers!
So I'm pissed about that and I'm suffering in a heat wave. It's hot and I'm in another one of my depressive episodes so all I want to do is stay in bed and slam carbs into my piehole, which is the best possible way to stay in an episode for the rest of my life. Luckily for me, my brother is coming for a visit, so I'll be forced to get out of bed every day this weekend. I don't know what I'm going to feed him, and I have shopping and cleaning to do, but tonight I'm watching football, so fuck it.
So I'm pissed about that and I'm suffering in a heat wave. It's hot and I'm in another one of my depressive episodes so all I want to do is stay in bed and slam carbs into my piehole, which is the best possible way to stay in an episode for the rest of my life. Luckily for me, my brother is coming for a visit, so I'll be forced to get out of bed every day this weekend. I don't know what I'm going to feed him, and I have shopping and cleaning to do, but tonight I'm watching football, so fuck it.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
The Kirby Report
Special Sweetheart is finishing up his earthly business here with us. His bone marrow isn't making platelets, red blood cells, or white blood cells the way it's supposed to and he's down to 18 pounds. He had hamburger and ice cream for dinner tonight and he got all excited about it and then he lost his footing and couldn't get back up. He's resting next to me now, but he's clearly a little bit freaked out that his legs aren't as reliable as they were (and they were never great to begin with).
There's nothing much left to do except love him, cuddle him, ply him with non-vegan treats that we haven't had around for months (the cows will forgive me, I hope), and listen to him very carefully so we hear him when he tells us he's done. The vet says weeks or months.
For now, take a nap, little buddy. You're safe. I've got you.
There's nothing much left to do except love him, cuddle him, ply him with non-vegan treats that we haven't had around for months (the cows will forgive me, I hope), and listen to him very carefully so we hear him when he tells us he's done. The vet says weeks or months.
For now, take a nap, little buddy. You're safe. I've got you.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Quick & Dirty News from Here
1. I come to you fresh from watching Juventus pull out a squeaker of a 2-1 win against Lazio which keeps them first in the league by one precarious point. My boyfriend Alessa got the winner at around minute 83 or so. That brute Kozak seems to have broken Leo's nose. ADP kissed Claudio. And at the end, when the tifosi were all signing the Juve song, Gio joined in. &hearts
2. Juve spams take me pretty much an entire day to put together. I just can't do them regularly and still keep my job. I miss doing them, but it can't be helped.
3. Der Kirbenhund has a new trick. Every day, he comes up with something new to give us all a heart attack. Yesterday, it was a runny pile of poop surrounded by a lake of mucous and bright red blood. Today, it was about five minutes when he decided he was unable to stand up. So we get all frightened and worked up and then everything goes back to normal as if nothing happened. It's freaky.
4. In connection with #3, I'm sure I told you all before that when I walk into the regular vet, it's like Norm walking into Cheers. We have now reached the point where it's the same thing at the specialty vet. *sigh*
5. In connection with #3&4, Kirby is no longer on chemo. His platelet count is so low (below 8,000 when 200-500,000 is normal) that it isn't safe. There is very little that can be done about this. It's possible he has a tick-borne infection that can be treated, but if it isn't that, then we are pretty much at the end of the medical merry-go-round.
Aside from the five minutes a day when he has us completely scared out of our wits, Kirby is not acting sick at all. He doesn't seem to be in any discomfort, and he's happy and affectionate like always. That's the important part. Truly, I'm almost glad that there aren't really any medical options left to pursue. It would suit me fine if he were to stay around forever, of course, but we are way past the point when it makes a difference if we understand what's going on. If his platelet counts can't be raised, then does it really matter what the cause is? And if it doesn't matter what the cause it, then why should we be extracting bone marrow samples and doing more ultrasounds? He has been a medical mystery since the beginning when he started coughing up chunks of plastic; bloody diarrhea for no apparent reason is just another bit of unexplainable Kirby-ness that makes him my Special Sweetheart. It's time to enjoy the time he has left while he still feels good and can still be a dog and do dog things.
6. I've tried going vegan again. So far, about two weeks. Oops. Except tonight, we finished off a bottle of salad dressing that has dairy in it. See this one is vegan, but this one isn't. Perhaps you can see how Mr. D brought the wrong kind home. I forgot it wasn't vegan and didn't throw it away and so it accidentally made it onto the plate and into my tummy. Oh well. It's a sunk cost. Whether I remembered to throw it away or decided to finish it off can no longer have any effect on the market for animal products, so it was essentially a neutral act. This is all going pretty well. It's easier than I thought it would be, and I've discovered that there is a whole lot of vegan junk food available if you have the patience to read labels at the Fresh Fields. I've also figured out which type of soymilk makes good gelato, so we've got it covered.
Except for one thing. I listened to a podcast the other day featuring a short story, A Dog's Tale by Mark Twain. I cried for hours and stayed red-eyed and puffy for three days. Every time I looked at one of the beagles, I could imagine them being in a cage at a market in China, waiting for someone to choose them to eat for dinner. The details of what people do to animals are just too much for me.
2. Juve spams take me pretty much an entire day to put together. I just can't do them regularly and still keep my job. I miss doing them, but it can't be helped.
3. Der Kirbenhund has a new trick. Every day, he comes up with something new to give us all a heart attack. Yesterday, it was a runny pile of poop surrounded by a lake of mucous and bright red blood. Today, it was about five minutes when he decided he was unable to stand up. So we get all frightened and worked up and then everything goes back to normal as if nothing happened. It's freaky.
4. In connection with #3, I'm sure I told you all before that when I walk into the regular vet, it's like Norm walking into Cheers. We have now reached the point where it's the same thing at the specialty vet. *sigh*
5. In connection with #3&4, Kirby is no longer on chemo. His platelet count is so low (below 8,000 when 200-500,000 is normal) that it isn't safe. There is very little that can be done about this. It's possible he has a tick-borne infection that can be treated, but if it isn't that, then we are pretty much at the end of the medical merry-go-round.
Aside from the five minutes a day when he has us completely scared out of our wits, Kirby is not acting sick at all. He doesn't seem to be in any discomfort, and he's happy and affectionate like always. That's the important part. Truly, I'm almost glad that there aren't really any medical options left to pursue. It would suit me fine if he were to stay around forever, of course, but we are way past the point when it makes a difference if we understand what's going on. If his platelet counts can't be raised, then does it really matter what the cause is? And if it doesn't matter what the cause it, then why should we be extracting bone marrow samples and doing more ultrasounds? He has been a medical mystery since the beginning when he started coughing up chunks of plastic; bloody diarrhea for no apparent reason is just another bit of unexplainable Kirby-ness that makes him my Special Sweetheart. It's time to enjoy the time he has left while he still feels good and can still be a dog and do dog things.
6. I've tried going vegan again. So far, about two weeks. Oops. Except tonight, we finished off a bottle of salad dressing that has dairy in it. See this one is vegan, but this one isn't. Perhaps you can see how Mr. D brought the wrong kind home. I forgot it wasn't vegan and didn't throw it away and so it accidentally made it onto the plate and into my tummy. Oh well. It's a sunk cost. Whether I remembered to throw it away or decided to finish it off can no longer have any effect on the market for animal products, so it was essentially a neutral act. This is all going pretty well. It's easier than I thought it would be, and I've discovered that there is a whole lot of vegan junk food available if you have the patience to read labels at the Fresh Fields. I've also figured out which type of soymilk makes good gelato, so we've got it covered.
Except for one thing. I listened to a podcast the other day featuring a short story, A Dog's Tale by Mark Twain. I cried for hours and stayed red-eyed and puffy for three days. Every time I looked at one of the beagles, I could imagine them being in a cage at a market in China, waiting for someone to choose them to eat for dinner. The details of what people do to animals are just too much for me.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Lost footage recovered
I discovered a whole bunch of podcasts on iTunes and I was messing around when what should appear but some old beagle videos I took a few years ago that I thought were lost. How they ended up on iTunes I'll never know. Anyway, this one shows my boys before they went all white in the face and back before Kirby's illnesses, back when he was sleek and fat. I'm glad I found this. As he beautiful as he is now, it's good to have something to remember how he looked then. And Tiki was way squirmy.
Enjoy.
EDIT: If it isn't working for you, follow this link.
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