After a nasty cold all week, a 24-hour migraine, and a cough starting last night, I woke up (late!) feeling pretty good. My poor chickens were anxious to get outside to start their day, so I opened their coop door and headed back inside to make the coffee and feed the cats.
Even with all the windows closed (it's gonna be a hot day), I heard the noise, like hundreds of screaming hawks. Looking out the sliding glass door, I could see a couple of my chickens by the house, not moving and looking to the sky. Intrigued, I stepped outside and heard the racket up close. Whatever was making it was circling my house - now it was in the front with a few stragglers in the back near me. Hearing them on the move again, I moved to the side of the house and saw a hawk, followed by hundreds of smaller birds. Blue Jays, and they were chasing that hawk away from my house!
My chickens were huddled together in fear, and Rhoda, my Rhode Island Red, was making a noise like a rumble rumble rumble, repeated low and constant.
I stood there until the racket subsided, then noticed that several of the Jays had perched quite close to me. I silently thanked them for watching out for my friends, and looked around at the rest of the yard. A dragonfly had flown into the coop run and couldn't find it's way out, so I gently picked him up and got him to freedom. A Monarch butterfly was nearby perched on a yellow dandelion, and a gorgeous black and white butterfly or moth flew nearby. A hummingbird buzzed me, reminding me that I needed to fill his feeders, and the woods sighed in contentment. Summer is here, the air is warm, and all is as it should be.
And I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Monday, July 1, 2019
Saturday, June 8, 2019
The Big C
My mammograms have rarely gone smoothly. I have "dense" breasts, which means they can't really see what they should. I've had to go back many years for more pictures, ultrasounds, and even a biopsy on my right breast. It's just one of those things I have dealt with...no big deal.
This time felt different from the very start. It started the same way...more pictures, followed by an ultrasound, then a biopsy, this time of the left breast. All completely painless, but the look on the radiologist's face told me volumes. So I was prepared when he called two days later with the biopsy pathology report.
"It's unfortunately cancer", he said. "The most common type - Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, and it's small - about 4.5 mm. You'll need to meet with a surgeon and oncologist to talk about options, but they will likely tell you either a lumpectomy with radiation, or a total mastectomy without further treatment".
Did I tell you that the phone call came when I was at work, and that I have to smile and actually talk to people? I'm not sure I remember the next few patients I registered - I felt like I was having tunnel vision, and in a vast echo chamber where I could hear, but it all sounded so far away. Once it slowed down a bit, the nurse and provider surrounded me with hugs and advice...should I have reconstructive surgery? Who is the best plastic surgeon in the area? And look at the great tattoos I can get to cover any scarring!
The good news is that surgery can be done here in my small town hospital. The bad news is that if I choose a lumpectomy, the radiation treatment is an hour away. And treatment is 5 days a week, up to 16 weeks. The prognosis is good, and about the same with either option I choose. If insurance covers it, I'm leaning toward total mastectomy...of both breasts. I've never been a girly girl, and am not defined by my extra female bits. I wonder if it means that I can go shirtless in the summertime? When I first started developing, I was so mad at my Mom for making me put a shirt on around the boys. Didn't seem fair to me, when they got to run through sprinklers bare chested.
So many questions to answer. I feel like I'm back in school again, learning a new subject that I better know backwards and forwards 'cuz there will be a final exam. Have no doubt - I will ace the exam.
This time felt different from the very start. It started the same way...more pictures, followed by an ultrasound, then a biopsy, this time of the left breast. All completely painless, but the look on the radiologist's face told me volumes. So I was prepared when he called two days later with the biopsy pathology report.
"It's unfortunately cancer", he said. "The most common type - Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, and it's small - about 4.5 mm. You'll need to meet with a surgeon and oncologist to talk about options, but they will likely tell you either a lumpectomy with radiation, or a total mastectomy without further treatment".
Did I tell you that the phone call came when I was at work, and that I have to smile and actually talk to people? I'm not sure I remember the next few patients I registered - I felt like I was having tunnel vision, and in a vast echo chamber where I could hear, but it all sounded so far away. Once it slowed down a bit, the nurse and provider surrounded me with hugs and advice...should I have reconstructive surgery? Who is the best plastic surgeon in the area? And look at the great tattoos I can get to cover any scarring!
The good news is that surgery can be done here in my small town hospital. The bad news is that if I choose a lumpectomy, the radiation treatment is an hour away. And treatment is 5 days a week, up to 16 weeks. The prognosis is good, and about the same with either option I choose. If insurance covers it, I'm leaning toward total mastectomy...of both breasts. I've never been a girly girl, and am not defined by my extra female bits. I wonder if it means that I can go shirtless in the summertime? When I first started developing, I was so mad at my Mom for making me put a shirt on around the boys. Didn't seem fair to me, when they got to run through sprinklers bare chested.
So many questions to answer. I feel like I'm back in school again, learning a new subject that I better know backwards and forwards 'cuz there will be a final exam. Have no doubt - I will ace the exam.
Monday, April 1, 2019
Stories From the Front Line of a Walk-in Clinic
Really bad ideas, based on real life incidents from yesterday alone:
1. If you're 85 and took a tumble, don't go to a walk-in clinic because there's never any parking at the ER. We're gonna see you and send you to the ER anyway.
2. If you have a history of cardiac issues and have pain in your chest, don't go to a walk-in clinic and say it's just a liver infection. We're gonna see you and send you to the ER anyway.
3. If you have emphysema, COPD, and asthma, and your throat is closing shut, don't go to the walk-in clinic because the emergency room is too expensive. We're gonna see you and send you to the ER anyway.
4. Don't let your kids play with your wallet and destroy your insurance card. I'm good, but not psychic, and if we don't have it already, I can't magically conjure up the number. You're gonna get the full bill, and then deal with the insurance company on your end.
Really good ideas:
1. If you have flu symptoms, come see us within the first 48 hours for testing. After 48 hours, Tamiflu doesn't work, and you'll just have to ride it out.
2. If you're a man with a sense of humor, come see us with your wife in tow and say "I'm dying" when I ask what your symptoms are. That way, when you're in the treatment room, your wife and I can laugh at you and your "man cold". :)
Sunday, March 24, 2019
Long Winter, New Job, and First Year With Chickens
My 4th winter in Minnesota has been brutal, and much closer to the North Dakota winters I remember growing up. The snow never seemed to stop, and the Polar Vortex made me rethink the notion of not heating the chicken coop. My Barred Rock, Florence, got frostbite on the ends of her comb, so now the tips are whitish gray instead of red. And poor Georgia - she lost her back toes to frostbite.
During the Polar Vortex I noticed a spray of blood on the plastic surrounding the run, and blood running down the wall underneath the roost. All the chickens seemed okay, and there wasn't enough room in the run to check them out more thoroughly. Weeks later, as I was in the run refilling their food, Georgia jumped up on the roost, looked at me, and walked over so that her head was on my shoulder. It was then that I saw the source of the bleeding - her back foot looked like it had been chopped off, and it was bleeding profusely. I sprayed it with Vetricyn, and hoped for the best.
The next day at work I was telling the provider and nurse (eek - I work in healthcare now!) Georgia's sad tale, and they immediately said to use DermaBond (actually Gary said to use Super Glue, but I've learned that it's almost the same thing). There just happened to be a tube of it about to expire, so was sent home with it. That night Georgia subjected herself to the treatment, and all has been well in chicken land since then, and Gary the Chicken Doc got a dozen blue eggs as a thank you.
About my new job: technically, I'm a patient registration rep, but in reality I'm the office manager, registration, urine drug screening collector, breath alcohol tester, hospitality, cleaner, and sometimes triage. I work in a small walk-in clinic, so there are only 3 of us working on a given day. Ten hour shifts with no lunch (we can eat, but can't leave, so we usually eat a few bites, tend to a patient, and come back for more, sometimes several times).
I love most of the people I work with - without any one of us, the clinic has to close, so we truly work as a team. And work is good for me - I've lost 10 pounds eating mostly salads for lunch, and get a lot more exercise than a job at my computer. And some of our patients are so interesting to listen to - I seem to learn something new every day.
The snow is finally starting to melt, green clover is visible in places, my chickens are laying, and I have tons of compost in the chicken run, just waiting for the garden.
All is well with my soul.
During the Polar Vortex I noticed a spray of blood on the plastic surrounding the run, and blood running down the wall underneath the roost. All the chickens seemed okay, and there wasn't enough room in the run to check them out more thoroughly. Weeks later, as I was in the run refilling their food, Georgia jumped up on the roost, looked at me, and walked over so that her head was on my shoulder. It was then that I saw the source of the bleeding - her back foot looked like it had been chopped off, and it was bleeding profusely. I sprayed it with Vetricyn, and hoped for the best.
The next day at work I was telling the provider and nurse (eek - I work in healthcare now!) Georgia's sad tale, and they immediately said to use DermaBond (actually Gary said to use Super Glue, but I've learned that it's almost the same thing). There just happened to be a tube of it about to expire, so was sent home with it. That night Georgia subjected herself to the treatment, and all has been well in chicken land since then, and Gary the Chicken Doc got a dozen blue eggs as a thank you.
About my new job: technically, I'm a patient registration rep, but in reality I'm the office manager, registration, urine drug screening collector, breath alcohol tester, hospitality, cleaner, and sometimes triage. I work in a small walk-in clinic, so there are only 3 of us working on a given day. Ten hour shifts with no lunch (we can eat, but can't leave, so we usually eat a few bites, tend to a patient, and come back for more, sometimes several times).
I love most of the people I work with - without any one of us, the clinic has to close, so we truly work as a team. And work is good for me - I've lost 10 pounds eating mostly salads for lunch, and get a lot more exercise than a job at my computer. And some of our patients are so interesting to listen to - I seem to learn something new every day.
The snow is finally starting to melt, green clover is visible in places, my chickens are laying, and I have tons of compost in the chicken run, just waiting for the garden.
All is well with my soul.
Monday, August 27, 2018
A Good Moral Character
John McCain died this weekend, and politicians from both the left and right are lauding him for his humor, his service to his country, and his character. It made me wonder why this man was so universally admired, which led me to try and define character.
First, what it is not. It is not what religion you belong to, nor is the preaching you do on social media on the greatness of God. That's worship, not a sign of your good character. It's not "thoughts and prayers" when something bad happens.
It is not how wealthy you are, how beautiful you are, how smart you are, or the position you hold. We may admire you for those things, but it doesn't mean you have a good moral character.
So what is it then? Well, here's my definition. It's someone that puts the good of another over their own personal desires, and then acts. When something bad happens, fighting to change what caused it to begin with. Someone who walks a scared young woman down the sidewalk through the protesters to the abortion clinic, even when they personally don't agree with abortion. Someone who volunteers to work over the holidays to allow their coworker the chance to be with their family. Someone who, when bullets are flying, goes back to help a stranger.
A good moral character is not built on one deed alone. It must be stable, in other words, a lifetime. That doesn't mean that the person of good moral character always did the right thing - far from it. But it does mean that they admit when they did wrong, and attempt to make it right. They always try to do the right thing, keeping everyone's interests in mind.
I didn't always agree with John McCain's political views, but I very much admired his good moral character. He always tried to do what was right, even when it was personally painful for him. After his captors in Vietnam learned that his father was an admiral, John McCain was offered an early release. He had broken both arms and a leg, and his captors were refusing treatment until he confessed to an imaginary crime. Can you imagine the pain he was in? Yet, he refused the early release because he was taught that the ones there the longest go home first. Because of that decision, he spent another FIVE years being tortured daily. For the rest of his life, he couldn't comb his own hair because he couldn't raise his arms above his head.
A good moral character is not petulant. A good moral character doesn't brag. A good moral character doesn't bully. When I vote to put someone in office, whether it's a board of directors, or the President of the United States, I look for good moral character, or at a minimum, someone who has spent a lifetime in service to others. I'm not looking for a quick fix for me alone, or my class, or gender, or race. I'm looking for someone that will actively try to make life better for everyone, even if it means that it's a little worse for them.
I desperately hope that John McCain is not the last of his kind to put country over party, to put duty over self. Perhaps his death will lead to more working together regardless of party or belief system, to make this country better. But my fear is that this change, however hopeful, will be temporary. And remember, good moral character is stable.
First, what it is not. It is not what religion you belong to, nor is the preaching you do on social media on the greatness of God. That's worship, not a sign of your good character. It's not "thoughts and prayers" when something bad happens.
It is not how wealthy you are, how beautiful you are, how smart you are, or the position you hold. We may admire you for those things, but it doesn't mean you have a good moral character.
So what is it then? Well, here's my definition. It's someone that puts the good of another over their own personal desires, and then acts. When something bad happens, fighting to change what caused it to begin with. Someone who walks a scared young woman down the sidewalk through the protesters to the abortion clinic, even when they personally don't agree with abortion. Someone who volunteers to work over the holidays to allow their coworker the chance to be with their family. Someone who, when bullets are flying, goes back to help a stranger.
A good moral character is not built on one deed alone. It must be stable, in other words, a lifetime. That doesn't mean that the person of good moral character always did the right thing - far from it. But it does mean that they admit when they did wrong, and attempt to make it right. They always try to do the right thing, keeping everyone's interests in mind.
I didn't always agree with John McCain's political views, but I very much admired his good moral character. He always tried to do what was right, even when it was personally painful for him. After his captors in Vietnam learned that his father was an admiral, John McCain was offered an early release. He had broken both arms and a leg, and his captors were refusing treatment until he confessed to an imaginary crime. Can you imagine the pain he was in? Yet, he refused the early release because he was taught that the ones there the longest go home first. Because of that decision, he spent another FIVE years being tortured daily. For the rest of his life, he couldn't comb his own hair because he couldn't raise his arms above his head.
A good moral character is not petulant. A good moral character doesn't brag. A good moral character doesn't bully. When I vote to put someone in office, whether it's a board of directors, or the President of the United States, I look for good moral character, or at a minimum, someone who has spent a lifetime in service to others. I'm not looking for a quick fix for me alone, or my class, or gender, or race. I'm looking for someone that will actively try to make life better for everyone, even if it means that it's a little worse for them.
I desperately hope that John McCain is not the last of his kind to put country over party, to put duty over self. Perhaps his death will lead to more working together regardless of party or belief system, to make this country better. But my fear is that this change, however hopeful, will be temporary. And remember, good moral character is stable.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
We Have Your Dog
We have your dog. She doesn't have a collar or a microchip, so we don't know who you are.
She's lovely, and even at her advanced age she still loves to chase balls and have her belly rubbed.
We feed your dog.
We house your dog, inside, not on the chain outside she's used to. She has a big comfy bed to snuggle in, and we like to give her treats while scratching her behind the ears.
We tried to find you.
When she came to us, we told the world about her. Friends of friends of friends shared our post trying to find her owners. We put her on our website, hoping against hope that you'd see her and come get her. After 5 days, she has legally become our dog.
We still have our dog 6 weeks later. No one has called or come to get her. But something wonderful is happening - a family loves your dog and has been approved to adopt her! All of the humans that have taken her on day trips to the lake, or walked her in the park, are thrilled for her.
Now, after someone points out to you that the picture accompanying the happy adoption story online looks an awful lot like the dog you used to have, you come to get her. We fed her, we walked her, we took care of her for 6 weeks, so $25 a day is what it takes to claim her. That amount doesn't even begin to cover our cost, which is why we spend a great deal of time trying to raise money. You can't make that happen, so there are tears on both sides, and our dog goes home to her new family.
Then you started the bullying online. You got your friends and friends of friends to hear your side of the story and spread the word about how we "stole" your dog. They're encouraged to rate the shelter with 1 star, continuing the fiction that we gave away "your" dog. You contact law enforcement. You contact local media, continuing the campaign. By omitting certain crucial facts, you keep it going.
The new adopted family got spooked about the drama online, and decided that they'd adopt another dog instead. Someone stepped forward to pay boarding, and your dog is again your dog.
But the one star reviews and lies stay online, making others that want to give an animal a home think twice about coming to us. Pandora's box has been opened, and we'll be having to explain ourselves for a long time to come. And we shouldn't have to. Everything was done exactly according to the law and policy.
What we do matters. And because of you and people like you, we no longer want to help. We're tired of working so hard to save animals only to have something like this happen.
But guess what? When your still un-chipped dog wanders away again and ends up with us, we'll do it all over again. Because your dog matters. You? Not so much.
She's lovely, and even at her advanced age she still loves to chase balls and have her belly rubbed.
We feed your dog.
We house your dog, inside, not on the chain outside she's used to. She has a big comfy bed to snuggle in, and we like to give her treats while scratching her behind the ears.
We tried to find you.
When she came to us, we told the world about her. Friends of friends of friends shared our post trying to find her owners. We put her on our website, hoping against hope that you'd see her and come get her. After 5 days, she has legally become our dog.
We still have our dog 6 weeks later. No one has called or come to get her. But something wonderful is happening - a family loves your dog and has been approved to adopt her! All of the humans that have taken her on day trips to the lake, or walked her in the park, are thrilled for her.
Now, after someone points out to you that the picture accompanying the happy adoption story online looks an awful lot like the dog you used to have, you come to get her. We fed her, we walked her, we took care of her for 6 weeks, so $25 a day is what it takes to claim her. That amount doesn't even begin to cover our cost, which is why we spend a great deal of time trying to raise money. You can't make that happen, so there are tears on both sides, and our dog goes home to her new family.
Then you started the bullying online. You got your friends and friends of friends to hear your side of the story and spread the word about how we "stole" your dog. They're encouraged to rate the shelter with 1 star, continuing the fiction that we gave away "your" dog. You contact law enforcement. You contact local media, continuing the campaign. By omitting certain crucial facts, you keep it going.
The new adopted family got spooked about the drama online, and decided that they'd adopt another dog instead. Someone stepped forward to pay boarding, and your dog is again your dog.
But the one star reviews and lies stay online, making others that want to give an animal a home think twice about coming to us. Pandora's box has been opened, and we'll be having to explain ourselves for a long time to come. And we shouldn't have to. Everything was done exactly according to the law and policy.
What we do matters. And because of you and people like you, we no longer want to help. We're tired of working so hard to save animals only to have something like this happen.
But guess what? When your still un-chipped dog wanders away again and ends up with us, we'll do it all over again. Because your dog matters. You? Not so much.
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
There Aren't Just Two Choices
It seems that there's always a a crisis or controversy going on. At our southern border, kids are being separated from their parents, that's a fact. One side wrings their hands and demands change, and the other talks about the criminals that will come across if we don't have tight security.
Or the Enbridge pipeline that was just approved to go through Minnesota land, threatening the water supply and the natural beauty of my state. One side is demanding that construction not start, and the other is saying how much safer pipelines are than the current practice of using rail to carry the oil, coming within feet of homes when it travels through towns.
Instead of fighting each other along political party lines (or worse, unfriending people!!), let's take a look at the actual problem. Sometimes there aren't just two choices for a solution once you go back to why the problem occurred in the first place.
Take the border. In 1971, President Richard Nixon officially declared a war on drugs. The U.S. would seize the cocaine coming across the border, and the Colombian drug cartel would kill people in retaliation. The president of Panama, Manuel Noriega, allowed Pablo Escobar, one of the best known cartel leaders, to ship the coke through Panama, making it that much easier to get to Miami and south Florida. The cartel started raking in big bucks over the demand in the U.S.
And then the tide turned on our war on drugs, at least in south Florida. The cartel decided that getting the drugs in through Miami was too hard, and started targeting the Mexican border to move the drugs to the U.S. Between Colombia and Mexico lie the countries of Nicaragua, Guatemala, and Honduras. The drug cartel swarmed into those countries, creating a trade route for cocaine and other illegal drugs. So when you wonder why people are fleeing their own country to the U.S. even knowing they will not be welcome, now you know. Staying means their children may be kidnapped and used as drug mules or worse. Staying means enduring the constant threat of violence.
Now that we know how and where the issue originated, what's the solution? Einstein said that insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. If there is no demand in the U.S. for illegal drugs, there is no reason for the cartel to operate the trade route through Central America. How do you decrease demand? Other countries have done it by legalizing the drug itself. It seems contrary to common sense, but their statistics show that it's working, in conjunction with more social services for recovery. Would it work here? Maybe. Seems worth a try anyway.
On to the pipeline issue. Using the same logic, let's talk about the problem. Americans are obsessed with their cars, and trucks, and electricity. I don't know anyone who is willing to give up any of those things, so instead, let's talk about how they are powered. Renewable energy is expensive right now, because it's not subsidized by the government, or at least not to the extent that fossil fuels are. Our government pays billions to big oil companies in order to keep the cost reasonable for us, the end consumer. You can see why the oil lobby is so powerful in Washington - the taxpayers are paying for them to be in business so they can make a huge profit. They're the only game in town.
So what would happen if that subsidy were to end? Prices to us, the consumers, would skyrocket. And then what? Well, when it hurts our pocketbook, we tend to notice and take action. You might not buy that gas guzzler and opt for a hybrid car instead. Oh boy, but then that hurts car companies! Yes, but then the car companies would have to increase gas mileage in order to compete. Win win.
And better yet, renewable energy would have a chance. Those solar panels and wind towers would start to look more appealing if the cost were the same as oil. And what if the government subsidized them as much as they do oil? Before long, we'd be up and running on renewable energy and the demand for oil would be gone. Meaning there would not be a need for either pipelines or railroads to carry it across country. Our water supply would be safe, and people living near the railroad would be safe too.
Critical thinking doesn't always solve the problem, but it may offer more choices for a solution. Fighting each other along political party lines is like trying to row a canoe when two people are moving their paddles in the opposite direction - you just go in circles.
Or the Enbridge pipeline that was just approved to go through Minnesota land, threatening the water supply and the natural beauty of my state. One side is demanding that construction not start, and the other is saying how much safer pipelines are than the current practice of using rail to carry the oil, coming within feet of homes when it travels through towns.
Instead of fighting each other along political party lines (or worse, unfriending people!!), let's take a look at the actual problem. Sometimes there aren't just two choices for a solution once you go back to why the problem occurred in the first place.
Take the border. In 1971, President Richard Nixon officially declared a war on drugs. The U.S. would seize the cocaine coming across the border, and the Colombian drug cartel would kill people in retaliation. The president of Panama, Manuel Noriega, allowed Pablo Escobar, one of the best known cartel leaders, to ship the coke through Panama, making it that much easier to get to Miami and south Florida. The cartel started raking in big bucks over the demand in the U.S.
And then the tide turned on our war on drugs, at least in south Florida. The cartel decided that getting the drugs in through Miami was too hard, and started targeting the Mexican border to move the drugs to the U.S. Between Colombia and Mexico lie the countries of Nicaragua, Guatemala, and Honduras. The drug cartel swarmed into those countries, creating a trade route for cocaine and other illegal drugs. So when you wonder why people are fleeing their own country to the U.S. even knowing they will not be welcome, now you know. Staying means their children may be kidnapped and used as drug mules or worse. Staying means enduring the constant threat of violence.
Now that we know how and where the issue originated, what's the solution? Einstein said that insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. If there is no demand in the U.S. for illegal drugs, there is no reason for the cartel to operate the trade route through Central America. How do you decrease demand? Other countries have done it by legalizing the drug itself. It seems contrary to common sense, but their statistics show that it's working, in conjunction with more social services for recovery. Would it work here? Maybe. Seems worth a try anyway.
On to the pipeline issue. Using the same logic, let's talk about the problem. Americans are obsessed with their cars, and trucks, and electricity. I don't know anyone who is willing to give up any of those things, so instead, let's talk about how they are powered. Renewable energy is expensive right now, because it's not subsidized by the government, or at least not to the extent that fossil fuels are. Our government pays billions to big oil companies in order to keep the cost reasonable for us, the end consumer. You can see why the oil lobby is so powerful in Washington - the taxpayers are paying for them to be in business so they can make a huge profit. They're the only game in town.
So what would happen if that subsidy were to end? Prices to us, the consumers, would skyrocket. And then what? Well, when it hurts our pocketbook, we tend to notice and take action. You might not buy that gas guzzler and opt for a hybrid car instead. Oh boy, but then that hurts car companies! Yes, but then the car companies would have to increase gas mileage in order to compete. Win win.
And better yet, renewable energy would have a chance. Those solar panels and wind towers would start to look more appealing if the cost were the same as oil. And what if the government subsidized them as much as they do oil? Before long, we'd be up and running on renewable energy and the demand for oil would be gone. Meaning there would not be a need for either pipelines or railroads to carry it across country. Our water supply would be safe, and people living near the railroad would be safe too.
Critical thinking doesn't always solve the problem, but it may offer more choices for a solution. Fighting each other along political party lines is like trying to row a canoe when two people are moving their paddles in the opposite direction - you just go in circles.
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