Veterinarian expenses

After school, I took my dog Misty to the vet to have a couple of things looked at. I knew one of them probably would require surgery, and the other I wasn't sure about. The one was a black mole-like growth on her back. It began as a smaller flat version of what it is now, and the fact that it has increased in size over the past six months has me concerned. It's about a 1/4 inch in diameter.

The other thing on her neck could be a cyst, but it too has increased in size over the past year, and has become firmer to the touch. A year ago when we first noticed them, the doctor wasn't concerned. She said let's wait and see if they get bigger or change color.

They did.

Today she looked at both places, and urged me to have both of them surgically removed, and sent to pathology to find out if they were cancerous or not. The black mole-like growth concerned her greatly, and the cyst thing did not respond as she expected when she tried to aspirate it... blood came out instead of the fluid she was expecting.

So I set up an appointment for next month. I asked for an estimate of what the surgeries would cost, and it came to $400-$500 (included bloodwork, $76; removal of tumor, $120; general anesthesia, $60; antibiotic injection $13; metacam injection $15; surgical pack $15; hospital supplies ?? $25; cephalexin liquid, $16; take home pain med $15; histopathology $107).

If I add in dental cleaning while she is under, that will be another $100.

My husband about fell over. I told him I was getting it done. I wanted those growths off my dog. Whether they are cancerous or not, they are hideous, and I don't like feeling them when I pet her. I want them off if they are malignant, and I want them off if they are benign.

I'm willing to pay the cost of health care for my dog. She deserves to be healthy and happy too.

The Bog is gone now.

The final phase of our pond removal plan took place today, although I don't think I ever thought about it as a plan that we set out to do. Steve had it in his head, I suppose, to get it done one of these days, and being one not to waste time, one of these days was today.

I had a different project to complete, however: I wanted to finish the three panels that will become a fishing booth at our church's spring fling this coming Saturday.

I started painting it yesterday, blocking in all the large areas of color (the sky, the pond mid-ground, and the pond foreground).

This morning, I attacked the details, which included cattails, irises and a water snake on the side panels, and a mud turtle, pickerel frog, salamander, and catfish on the center panel, the catfish being the center of interest.

Last week, when I was thinking about what kind of fishing scene to paint (ocean, river, pond), and what style of painting to use (cartoony, carnivally and primary colors, realistic, impressionistic), and point of view (underwater scene, looking from above, frog's eye view, kid's eye view), I decided to paint a pond (because I know the pond better than the other locations), and used an illustrative style combining some impressionism and some realism, and the point of view of an animal at the edge of the pond.

I love the shape of the catfish body, and the dark contrast it makes against the sky as it hangs from the fishhook. After all, this is to be a Fishing Booth. The kids have to pretend they are fishing.

Catfish are common fare around here. My favorite fish in our koi pond were the great black catfish that mostly stayed at the bottom, but when they swam to the top they were spectacular to watch.

So as Steve took apart the bog, the last remaining piece of the pond he created back in 1989, I was painting the pond and highlighting some of my favorite features: the catfish, the water snake who lived within the rocks of the pond, the frogs, salamanders, and the plant life. Although we never fished in the pond, and never caught a catfish by hook in this pond, I had to depict it for the spring fling booth.

The irony does not escape me. If someone could have taken a picture of our yard, you would see Steve tearing down the bog and carrying away the last of the plants, and filling in the hole, and you would see me furiously painting it all from memory onto three wooden panels without any of the "right" colors. I didn't put in all the plants, nor any of the koi. I wanted to: the pond lilies and dragonflies were on my mind ... but after eight hours of painting, I was tired and ready to quit.

Yeah, it took me that long. Setting up all the materials, painted for five hours, then moved everything to a new location (I was working outside) when my shade disappeared, then setting up everything again in a shadier spot, didn't help save any time. Feeling nauseous slowed me down too. But I finished it to the point I was willing to say "It's done." Had I felt better, I might have gone further with the details.

You might say it was my last attempt to keep the pond's memory.

But I do have all the photos I took on digital camera for the past two years, and all the photos and video footage I took for seventeen years. Yes, I have the memories.

The last four photos in the slideshow above show some views of the real pond that I will always cherish.

Virus strikes this blogger

This is not a good weekend to be sick... but then, what weekend is? I don't even want to describe what has gotten hold of me, but it has set me on my butt, literally, and the bathroom is my favorite place in the house these past two days. I figure it's probably a virus I picked up at school.

Job hazard for teachers. Especially when the students use the same keyboard that I do all my work on. I have those little bleach wipe-off cloths in the plastic container sitting near my computer, and I use them, but apparently, that's not enough to fight the germs the kids carry around on those little fingers. Ugh.

Handwashing is encouraged all the day long, mine as well as theirs, and teachers carry those anti-bacterial waterless soaps with them, and still, a few of the nastiest germs get through the frontline of defense. Ah me. Good news, though, it should be gone in another day or two.

My son, the future pharmacist, quickly assessed my symptoms yesterday afternoon on the telephone, and suggested I get some loperamide... what?? I asked. He told me to go on the internet to find out more (he encourages me to find out things for myself, like I did when he was a kid), which I did, and discovered that loperamide is the generic version of imodium, only a few dollars cheaper.

So, I called my husband at work and asked him to pick some up for me on the way home. But even before he got home, who should show up but my girlfriend! With a box of imodium tablets and a 2-liter bottle of ginger ale to settle my stomach. You can always count on your girlfriend to be there for you.

She had IM'd me earlier, and invited us over for an evening cookout, but I told her about my disturbance, and declined the invitation. Less than an hour later, she was at my door with the relief.

"You didn't run to town and get this, I hope," I said, knowing Steve was bringing some home in an  hour.

"No, my husband picked it up for me on his way home," she smiled. I graciously thanked her, feeling very warm and loved at the moment.

I went to church this morning, risking the obvious. Things seem to be a little more under control today, but still feeling weak, stomach cramps, nausea... generally, unwell. Unable to eat barbecue or other typical Memorial Day cook-out fare.

But you know, I'm not complaining because I do have a bathroom in my house, and a bed to sleep in, and medicine to help me feel better, and friends to take care of me. I live in a country, where freedom is valued and promoted, where I can worship in the place of my choice, where many have died protecting that freedom, or trying to help others obtain it. So this Memorial Day weekend, I am not complaining about being a little bit sick.

The service at church this morning was emotionally stirring. Three of our retired military men came to church in their dress uniform, handsome and valiant. That alone gives me goosebumps. Standing straight and tall, saluting their superior officer just as they would in service, they made us proud all over again. There wasn't a dry eye in the sanctuary as one veteran played Taps on the trumpet.

All the vets were called to stand as they heard their military anthem played, and by the end of the musical tribute, seven men were standing, representing Air Force, Army, and Navy. We have a marine in our membership, but he is serving in Iraq. We pray for Jeremy's safe return.

Tears flowed and sniffles were heard as the ceremony proceeded. All of us remember someone who served our country, all of us know of someone who has died in service. Ceremonies like this are a necessary function to maintain the memories of our past, to keep the American tradition alive for our younger generations.

And thank you, Alyson and Mark.

DisneyWorld vacation?

We're planning a DisneyWorld vacation for one week this summer. I don't know where to stay, but I want to stay somewhere on site, where we can park the car and leave it, and ride the shuttle to and from the park each day. If any of you bloggers have a favorite recommendation, I'll be considering them.

It's just me and my husband. We're looking in the moderate price range for motels. We'd like to have maybe three or four days to visit the parks, and then we'll probably do some beach hopping on our way back home.

Yes, we're driving, despite gas costs. So if you have a favorite place you'd like to tell me about, email me or leave it in the comments. Thank you!

Relay for Life comes to our school

I want to write about an event that took place yesterday. It was the first time such an event took place here, though the event has been repeated at other schools in the area.

Relay for Life, a fundraising unit for the American Cancer Society, held a mini-walk at the elementary school where I teach.

Actually, there have been related events going on all through the week here, ending with the Relay for Life mini-walk. The mini-walk involved each classroom taking a 15-minute time period and walking around the school to show their support for cancer survivors, and to bring recognition to the American Cancer Society. Everyone came prepared to walk by either wearing or bringing their walking shoes. I brought mine.

Throughout the week, students and teachers "voted" for the cutest Baby Picture (pictures of staff in their early infancy and childhood) by dropping money in jars numbered to match a baby picture. The money jars filled up fast, and on Thursday it was counted. Nearly $900 was raised over the span of four days, money that is being given to the American Cancer Society.

The highlight of the event, you would think, was the money raised to help find the cure for cancer and to provide for the care of cancer patients, but for me, the highlight was when cancer survivors from our community were introduced during the opening ceremony. They stood up as their names were announced, each holding a purple balloon. Among them, a woman I didn't know, a couple of men I didn't know, a woman from my church and her husband, a toddler, and three of our own teachers: One a mother and grandmother, one with elementary aged-children, and one with a two year old daughter. All cancer survivors. But you wouldn't know that they'd ever been sick, or depressed, or marked by any of the painful treatments or surgeries they might have undergone.

Or maybe you would if you wondered where their passion for life came from, their determination to make the most of each day, their appreciation for the life they've been given, again. The three teachers have been deeply involved in bringing Relay for Life to our school, and for helping to raise awareness for cancer research. In addition to their teaching jobs, and raising a family, they have given their time for this worthy cause. They looked healthy and happy today.

Now the audience they stood before yesterday was not filled with impressive political dignitaries nor wealthy business owners and corporate executives. No, the audience was predominantly children, grades K-5, and their teachers. The children were respectfully quiet when the speakers stood up. For a crowd of 420 or so kids, who normally challenge their teachers' patience each day when asked to sit quietly for more than fifteen minutes, this was quite an accomplishment.

The most memorable words spoken came from Marie's story. She'd had cancer when she was younger, and had to have the chemo and the radiation therapy. I marveled that she found the right words to explain to the children why she was standing there speaking about it to them. Marie knows there are children in the building who know someone close to them who had or has cancer. She knew they'd be listening. For the children's ears, she made light of the hair loss, and had them laughing with her. Her inspiring message was that the dreaded cancer cannot steal your spirit away from you.

As she spoke of her fear when she heard the diagnosis, I was reminded of my own little scare two years ago. What I'd had was nothing compared to her experience, nor the others standing at the podium. No chemo or radiation for me. No hair loss, no nausea... I had squamous cell carcinoma on my leg, just above the knee. It began as a small growth, looking very much like a wart, which is what I thought it was. I treated it like a wart, but when it continued to grow, and started to bleed, I became alarmed. The doctor made the diagnosis rather quickly from an immediate biopsy. It was surgically removed two days later in the doctor's office, not at the hospital. It had not mestasticized anywhere. I was fortunate. I am more careful in the sun these days. Sunscreen and hats are my friends.

During the assembly that was held at the end of the day, after all the classes had put in their 15 minute walk, the winner of the competition was announced, and the reward presented: a baby bib and pacifier for the Cutest Baby Picture winner. The teacher graciously accepted her award (teachers often are asked to do things in front of their students that appear humiliating and foolish), and the students clapped wildly. I think they loved seeing their teacher wear a baby bib and pop the pacifier into her mouth. She really was very cute (and a great team player!).

We wonder sometimes how we are going to teach our children compassion for others, how to help them gain awareness of their place in the community, and to know that school isn't just about reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic. With all the demands placed upon the school day, upon the subjects that need to be taught, and upon testing, it seems amazing that there is still time to fit events like this into the school day.

But it shouldn't be amazing. It should be more common than that. Watching how the kids partipated in the fundraiser by voting for their favorite teacher, bringing in money to make sure their favorite had a chance to win, and buying paper links so their class could win the "Link out Cancer" contest (enough paper links were bought to line the driveway in front of the school) proved that integrating community interest projects can be done without upsetting the balance of the day (too much). Certainly, doing the event the week after EOG testing was a brilliant move.

The Relay for Life team organized the event. In addition to the teachers, Julie, Jesica, and Marie, I took photos of American Cancer Society members, Betty Isaacs, Wil Bethea, and Troy Thee who were present for the ceremonies and mini-walk. They actually spent the entire day with us. After observing the support given from teachers and staff this week, I would say we'll be doing it again next year.

One little girl, as she hopped into her car yesterday afternoon, said to her mother "You know about that cancer thing?" Her mother looked at me, then said with some hesitation, "Yeah?" The little girl slid into her seat and explained, "Our class won!" Now I don't think the mother really understood what the girl was talking about, but I knew she would ask her daughter about it on their drive home, and she would learnabout the "Link out Cancer" fundraiser, and the Cute Baby Contest, and about the walk around the building. And when the subject of cancer comes up, the mother and daughter will have another angle to talk about: that many people survive and thrive after cancer, and that the American Cancer Society helps those survivors.

For more information dealing with American Cancer Society, Relay for Life, and Breast Cancer:

http://www.cancer.org/docroot/home/index.asp

http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/cgi-bin/WebObjects/CTDSites

http://www.cancer.org/docroot/par/content/PAR_1_Relay_For_Life.asp

 

 

What moves me forward

The school week is full as EOG testing continues, and students become restless now that they know they have passed. There was a thrill in the air last week when students got their phone calls to tell them the good news, and teachers walked a little lighter for the first time in weeks as the pressure of the testing was finally lifted.

My principal shared with our staff the news of my transfer to another school. I had already told those with whom I work closest of my plans, but when she made the announcement at our Monday staff meeting, I heard soft expressions of shock and surprise... I had not expected that at all. I looked around to see the source, and met the eyes of teachers who genuinely were going to miss me. I realized I would miss them as well. I didn't know what to say!

I've been so busy taking care of business, as I always do, that I haven't even begun to think about how I'm going to do this. How am I going to say goodbye to them? To the teachers who have become my friends, my supporters, my teammates? How am I going to leave them like this?... with only a simple explanation that I am needing a change in my life, and I'm sorry I have to do it this way. I don't know how else to do it.

In recent years (since my 40's) I've come to recognize that if I listen to that small voice within my heart and head, which I attribute to God, the source of what I know and feel, the Lord of my conscience, I often find myself doing things I would not dare do on my own recognizance. I'd be too scared to step into the strange, dark room, to leap off the cliff, to jump out of the boat into the water. I'd be afraid of the consequences.

However, I've learned that the consequences are not to be feared, but to be welcomed. I've grown every time I've stepped out into unknown territory. I expect to do the same this time. Call it intuition if you'd like. I call it faith.

Certainly, transferring to a new school cannot be like leaping off a cliff, unless of course, I'm talking about bungee jumping! I'm not risking death by transferring to a new school, at least not in the physical sense of the word. I might be risking the death of some part of me that has become stalled or frozen, whetherpersonal or professional. I might be risking the death of what was familiar, which doesn't have to be painful. I might be risking the death of life as I know it... and something different, something I haven't even thought about is going to take its place.

That's the part, the something I haven't even thought about, that moves me forward... that part excites me, and makes me want to do this. What will I see, hear, say, and do in my new school that will change me?

Not knowing the answer is the invitation to move forward.

Wondering what it will be like reminds me of what it is like to be a younger person again, starting out life on her first job, her whole world and life ahead of her, open to new possibilities, filled with questions and wonder... yes, that's what moving into a new school feels like for me right now.

The image of the cocooning moth appears in my mind as I write this. It went in a caterpillar, it came out a beautiful moth.

I am still a caterpillar!

Ever changing on the inside.

Two Snakes Displaced by Pond Removal

Although the fish are in a much bigger pond (I'll post pictures of that another day when I have some), and the pond hole has been mostly filled in, there are two critters that seem to be in habitat confusion. I regret to say that two snakes have been displaced from their home since the pond was filled in. Maybe more than two, we don't know. We've only seen the two.

The first snake came to my attention this afternoon. Misty found it beside our garden hose and electric meter in the back yard. She barked excitedly until I came to see what she had in sight. I quickly ran for my camera, of course, and then told her to back up. She complied. At the time I wasn't 100% certain it wasn't a copperhead. We've seen a few over the years, and I never like getting close enough to find out if it is or isn't.

But this one looked pretty much like the one that had been living in our pond in recent years, so I called my husband to ask him what he thought. He asked me some questions about slitted eyes and the color of its belly, and in both cases, I could not, and did not want to, get close enough to answer those questions. He said if it had slitted eyes it was poisonous. The way the sun was hitting its eyes, I couldn't be sure.

I took several pictures, then it slithered off to hide under the heat pump. I came inside to download the pictures, then I began to read some of my journal entry alerts. That's when I came across Dave's entry, Training Day, in his journal, Dead Investigations. The first photo he had posted there was of him holding a snake. I read through his entertaining record of what encompasses defensive tactics training, and then left a comment about the snake. I told him my snake was bigger than his.

He emailed me promptly! You know, I never got that kind of response in writing my paper journal. I love it when someone responds right away!  He said if I emailed him a picture of my snake he'd identify it for me. So I did.

Within seconds, faster than I could have found it on the internet myself, he emailed me again with the identity of the snake, and a picture off the internet. Seems my little critter friend is a Northern Water Snake, non-venomous. That was good to know.

I thanked Dave for identifying my snake, and went about my day, waiting for Steve to get home so I could tell him what we had hiding under our heat pump.

After I told him about the snake, and about the email conversation to identify it, he just grinned. Then he went out front to study the yard, to ponder, to relax. He called to me a few minutes later to come out front. He'd found the snake. I put on my flip flops, grabbed the camera, and ran downstairs to see.

"That's a different snake," I told him. "That one is richer in color, and not as big as the one under the heat pump." I took photos of that one too. Then Steve got his fish net, scooped up the water snake, and carried it off to the creek a few hundred feet from our home. Maybe it will find its way to the river. I hope.

Before he came inside, he tried to provoke the first one I saw from under the heat pump, but either it had already crawled off to a better location, or it refused to come out.

If anyone is missing the pond more than us, it is probably these two snakes. I feel bad for them, but there are plenty of ponds around here much bigger than the one we had. If Steve finds it, he will take it to the neighbor's pond or let it go in the creek.