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The Line

Olivia and I were up all night together.

She was not doing well so I called the Emergency Clinic to see if I could bring her in to be put down.

They said to wait till 10:00 am and then we could just arrive and see the doctor immediately instead of waiting.

We laid down together and took a nap at 5:oo and woke a couple hours later to her wagging her tail and looking so much better.

What IS the line, exactly? The one between the decision to end a life where suffering seems intolerable one moment then negotiable the next?

I told her to let me know somehow if the pain got too much. She was curled around my neck alot of the night which is uncommon behavior.

Was that her sign?

What if I ever get into a place where I can’t speak or communicate well enough to let those close to me know of my desires?

Do I have a line?

I used to think the bladder and bowel issues so common in MS would break me.

I’d throw in the towel.

But I didn’t. Haven’t.

I watched this Christopher Reeve documentary recently through which I grimaced because the ‘superman sheen’ that followed him even after his accident was painstakingly painted on. When, we saw him in the news clips as he championed stem cell research he looked positively radiant and I know he did have that light around him at times. In the film, for the most part he grabbed life by the back of the collar and kept working it. Until he didn’t.

Most of his days were spent not looking so pretty or polished or tan.

I sit here with this little creature dependent on me for nothing less than the privilege of one more breath.

I see her seemingly happy lying in the sun.

I grant her a reprieve.

I will listen for her language and hope she can help me know what to do next.

I sense we have not yet approached THE LINE.

Attitude Adjustment

 

I have been noticing a strange occurrence of late..

A certain odd and new energy coming toward me from friends and acquaintances alike.

I have had some rough territory to traverse in this lifetime: an ill-equipped and mentally ill mother, alcoholic father, rape, depression, divorce, MS, financial issues, career roller coaster and this weeks installation of my beloved dogs’ severe illness.

Having lived with depression most of my life, I now enjoy a count-on-able clarity of being and level of gratitude for a life I would never wish to trade for another.  I am at peace.

This revelatory state is earned. It is not a given.

I worked my butt off to claim this as mine.

The trick is attitude. ALWAYS A CHOICE. No matter what.

Whine? ? Courage? Forgiveness?  Next…..

This weird energy I am noticing lately is arriving following my latest challenges of two concurrent root canals and Livvy’s sickness;  one on top of the other.

It is almost as if before this, people have been inspired by how I handle things and support me lovingly.

BUT NOW I somehow have crossed the New Age line of: ‘WOW, she’s got SO MUCH bad stuff to deal with in her life that we think she just might have left God’s favor.. Karmic, to be sure.. MUST’VE done somethin’ PRETTY bad to deserve all this!! Gonna take a step or two backwards in case it’s catching..’

I’ve caught myself thinking stuff like this, too.

About me.  Others.

I don’t think any of us are immune.

The fact is:  LIFE IS HARD.

Some more than others but NO ONE ESCAPES.

When we see frailty, a harder-than-one-can-imagine-life, we seem to HAVE to make that other person wrong somehow.

Otherwise we are too, too close.

Close to THAT illness, or THAT loss of a child, or job, or marriage, or country.

And we just can’t bear the change of status we’ve grown to depend upon as rock solid rigid and impermeable.

Until we have to.

And step into the alien status we’ve acquired. ONLY if we let ourselves!

The point here being ain’t NO ONE figured out how to regulate ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT.

They can’t charge for it or prevent it or patent it. It is ours alone to do with as we wish.

This one thing has given me a life I love to live, am proud of and wish to share.

Shaky start.

Pretty nice outcome.

Return to Center

 

 

“Wherever I am…

I am home.”

 

                                           – Thich Nhat Hanh

Self Portrait

 

This is an abstract self portrait.

It’s really a map, of sorts..

Let me take you through:

Begin on the left edge of the piece where you see the stepping stones about 2/3 of the way down.

There is a gold thread there but you can’t see it in the photo.

Follow the stepping stones and notice the small, black, prickly things just underneath.

These are to represent the pesky stuff, the daily life challenges we all deal with.

Keep following the stones till you get to the black door.

The gold thread holds a broken bone in front of the door to remind one of the fact all we can count on is change.

We get to decide how to deal.

Carry on as the thread takes us out into the light of a myriad of small stick-like shapes.

The thread visits each one.

They represent experiences, relationships, loves, friendships, losses, inspirations.. the whole thing of life.

We then follow the thread back to the stepping stones to begin all over again.

Thank God.  Or not.

Another chance, another day.

The Radiance of Dissolution

 

Sometimes, as has happened with my other art forms, some THING just ARRIVES and I’m not exactly sure what to make of it..

So it is with the title of this post.

I know I’m supposed to learn something when this happens to me, so I just dive in with the knowledge there is a strong chance I could make a complete fool of myself as I explore the foreign terrain.

Here goes:

My dog and I spent the day together. She seemed mostly herself but something is ‘off.’

She began vomiting occasionally tonight which is not a good sign. She’s done everything to hide it from me. Go outside in a far off corner and quickly cover it up and return wagging her tail eager for connection.

Today I seriously looked at my ability to drive and started worrying about my own and others’ safety.

I went to a support group and didn’t speak of that particular concern. Others, yes. But not that one. (Cover up)

Tonight, Livvy laid on my stomach as we watched a film together.

No movement on either of our parts. Just perfect stillness enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

My body hurt. Her body hurt.

My heart was sore from worry.

I think she was just resting.

There was NOTHING OTHER, NOTHING EXTRA.

Just enough.

Just perfect.

For a couple hours I gave up any impetus to soldier through and just WAS.

Livvy did the same.

She may be dying.

I am dying to who I once was.

The thing that continues to amaze me is the ‘space’ (don’t know what to call it) BEHIND the suffering when I have the grace to access it..

The big giant fear always comes back when I segue back into the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what nows?’

What will it be like if Livvy dies?

What will my life be like if I can’t drive?

Not talking about lending a blind eye here..

Just devaluing the holy status we give the mind and kicking it down a notch or two.

Givin’ it a rest, too.

I’m pretty darn sure it’ll be there tomorrow.

Stomach Rub

 

I picked Olivia up yesterday at the emergency clinic.

They couldn’t help one last dig directed at my decision to care for here here rather than enter the maze of endless tubes, IV’s, biopsies, et al…

“No guilt intended”, they said..

I picked up her medications and there, sitting in the car in my handicapped parking place, Livvy NEEDED to be in my lap and wouldn’t go elsewhere… so we sat. And watched the world for a bit.

There was a man there, outside the drugstore with his dog.

He tied him up and went inside the store.

Three minutes later he came out. Had a conversation with the dog. Left him there again and went inside. There he was again after five minutes this time and same thing.. talking extensively to the dog. Much petting. Then into the store again.

As Livvy and I watched, this scene played out 2 more times.

Well…..I understood perfectly….

Since we have been home, all my dog wants is to have her stomach rubbed. This insatiable desire on her part is brand new and I oblige, of course.

Such an act of trust.. 

Imagine..

Lying down stretched out to the max and waiting, TOTALLY exposed! That underbelly that we, a humans, try so damn hard never to let ANYONE see how soft and tender and excruciatingly UNTOUCHED ours is….

Well, it is all I want to do; loving her in this way.

It is an honored position I am in. This creature has given me a try… watched me, tested me, checked me out over time and found me trustworthy.

As my heart is resting this full in the experience of being permitted to love my dog in her time of need, I do believe she is helping me know something about how it may feel in the human world:

Maybe, just maybe… those offering me their solace and assistance, love and care in MY time of need might be feeling such things..

How would I feel if I knew that what Livvy needed and wanted more than anything was a stomach rub but she just couldn’t quite bring herself to accept it so she wriggled away as I reached to give her what she needed?

Ugggg… Hurts my heart just to think of it..

Wake up, Cath… and free your underbelly….

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