I don't even know where to start.

Remember my brother, the frugal water user? He's having quadruple bypass heart surgery. The need for this surgery came as a complete shock to everyone, himself included. He was told the week after we got home from our visit with him. My brother is 10 years older than me but I'd never seen him look fitter than over Christmas. Last Thursday, he called to tell us the op had been scheduled for today but I just spoke to him, and it's now been postponed to tomorrow, time still unknown. He checked in to the hospital on Sunday, sounds in good spirits, and is passing time watching cartoons. He's already over hospital food and talking about what he'll eat when he gets out. I mentioned porridge and soup and think I saw his eyes roll over the phone. I'll be flying up to Brisbane next week to keep an eye on his diet him and will be there for 2 weeks. 

Last night, in a Murphy moment, I fractured one of my toes at capoeira, training a take down. What sane 50+ year old woman does stupid stuff like that. It's surprisingly painful, making it hard to walk. I'm pissed off at the timing and hope I'll be ready to travel next week. My brother and I will no doubt make a comic pair, shuffling around the neighbourhood on our daily recuperation walks. 

A grumpy Cushion (who has just made me a delicious sardine and cucumber sandwich for lunch while I rest, ice, compress and elevate my foot) is insisting (again) that I give up trying to spar with people 20 years my junior and take up knitting instead. 

Have you ever heard such rubbish? 

Update.

Georgia got home about an hour and a half ago. She spent the afternoon at the vet's, sleeping off the anaesthesia. 

The x-ray showed only 1 hook. It was thankfully small.

The hook was stuck in the lining of her oesophagus, apparently quite close to her heart. If it had ruptured the oesophagus, or been a bigger hook, this story would have a different ending. The hook might have snagged her heart. Air bubbles could have formed in her chest cavity. Scar tissue would also have made it hard for her to ever eat normally again, and she would have had to be on a soft or liquid diet, antibiotics and cortisone for life. 

As it is, Dr C tried several times to remove the hook but was unable to. He was about to refer her to a specialist when Dr J asked to give it a go and managed to remove it successfully. We're so grateful to have good vets.

The endoscopic equipment they used to remove the hook.

At the moment, we can't stop talking about how irresponsible the people are, who fish in our neighbourhood. Many come from other suburbs. Yes Rose, they leave bunches of hooks, snarled lines, and tasty dried bait behind on the ground. These aren't random things they forgot or lost. They just can't be bothered. What Cushion pulled out of Georgia's mouth was a section of line with hooks tied every 15cm or so apart. A line for catching bait, he says.

A local man named Steve actually goes around collecting all this rubbish. He says he hasn't had to buy any fishing hooks in a while. That's how many he finds. Cushion was helping him this morning when Georgia snarfled hers. 

"I'm okay guys, really. Thank you for asking after me." 

What would have happened if our wonderful vets hadn't been able to remove the hook? 
Georgia would have had to undergo open chest surgery, a complicated procedure, we're told, requiring a specialist. It would have cost 7 to 9 thousand dollars. Yup. Today's procedure set us back a mere 1,123 dollars. Are we all counting ourselves lucky yet? 

I think missy is going to be doing leash walks for a while.

"I don't suppose this is a good time to ask for another slice of  bread with rhubarb jam?"

A not so small stone, Tuesday 8th January.

I woke up early to give the garden a good soaking. We're expecting a 43degree day. The cicadas were already screeching. The water from the hose hit the big leaves with a loud indescribable sound. It hit small feathery leaves with a whisper, filtering by them to soak into the ground. It gurgled as it filled the water pot with its 30 dollar moss-covered terracotta turtle in the centre. Best buy ever. Then Georgia came home from her walk.

She'd swallowed some hooks at Ballast Point park. She looked normal. Larry's mum, who was at the park, told Cushion to stuff her with white bread. Larry had swallowed a hook before. As I watered the plants, I watched Cushion feed her. He'd bought a big loaf. She swallowed each slice of the white Homebrand bread without blinking or pause. More than half the loaf was gone before he stopped, wondering if that was enough. We went into the kitchen. Cushion called Dr Dog. I called Tara and Sammy's mum. Sammy had swallowed a hook before too. She said it was best to get an x-ray done. Sammy had ended up having surgery. I offered Georgia another slice of bread. She took it with a lot less gusto. How about a lick of peanut butter on it, girl? Yum. Another 3 slices went down her throat. A bit of raspberry rhubarb jam now? She finished the rest of the loaf, crust, ends and all. She looked a bit sick, as you might expect. Dr Dog said, "Bring her in for an x-ray." And that's where she is now, as I type this. On her way to Dr Dog. Cushion has taken her. 



To find out more about Small Stones and the 30 day mindful writing challenge, CLICK HERE. 





Correction, Wednesday 9th.

I received an email from Larry's mum last night but wasn't able to post it here because our internet connection was down. It wasn't Larry who'd swallowed the hook, it was a previous dog she'd had named Rufus. My apologies! I'm pretty sure this misinformation was Cushion's fault.

Anyway, since I changed the comments setting to registered users only, a few of our friends haven't been able to post their messages directly. So here is her email:

Do hope Georgia is ok. Was alarmed to read about the whole loaf of bread! It was our old dog, Rufus, who swallowed, and passed, the fish hook, not Larry. We were in the country and the vet I called recommended grass and white bread. Rufus was smaller than Larry, but the hook came out all wrapped up in grass and didn't bother him much. We were lucky. Larry's fish hook was stuck on the inside of his mouth and I was able to get it out. Damn fishermen!

Thinking of you,
Paula and Larry xx

Thank you Laura Paula! ;)

Introspection and my 1st question.

The endorphins are gone and I'm not just bored, I'm getting introspective. That's a worry as my rabbit hole can be rather cavernous. 


First, let me apologise if I've been leaving snarky snarkier than usual comments at your blog or even [gulp] sermonising. I tried to stay away from my google reader for a few days but finally got tired of talking to myself and to Georgia.


I've kept away from posting too because frankly, I have

I knew this sign, taken outside one of our local hardware stores, would come in handy one day. The old man has a message for us every day. These ones are from a long time ago since I haven't been out walking lately.

+

Here's a report for all the lovely people who've been checking up on me. [Even the ones who called me lazy. Really, some people can be so rude.]  :) 


I met up with my surgeon last Tuesday. He's happy with my progress, as am I! 

I was left to remove the plasters myself, a simple enough task. But these last bits were super sticky and I was too cowardly to peel them off. They finally fell off this morning.

Looking very good, if I say so myself.


The Person In Charge Of Stinky Knees has been incredibly kind to me. Thanks to a cancellation, I was able to meet up with the physiotherapist last Wednesday and am now doing more rehab exercises. The best news! I can now walk normally [though with caution] down the stairs!

+

It's Be [or is it Blog?] The Change for Animals week in the dogblog park. I was going to give it a pass. I'm not good awful at bloghops and doing group stuff. But for some reason, I can't get this one out of my head. Probably because I'm bored, feeling introspective, and have a lot of questions when it comes to animals and their welfare, and not too many answers.


So here's what I've decided to do. I'm going to pose a few questions over the week that have always bugged me. They won't be about any animal causes. They'll be more like a chart of my personal journey.


I'm going to include some interesting reading I've done. It won't be deep, well thought out research, just some googling. Of course, I hope you'll give me your wisdom on the subject. 


Here's my 1st question.


Can we really call ourselves animal lovers if we eat meat?


[I'm giving you some space here to think about it.]

^

^

The tulip magnolia tree outside the study window is looking lovely today.

^

^

^

Here's where I'm at.


I love animals but I'm not vegetarian. I don't think I ever could be. I crave my crispy double-smoked bacon and slow barbecued ribs too much. Meat constitutes about 1/4 to 1/3 of our current diet [mostly white and seafood], yet I feel guilty [and I know The Other Half does too. The Dog pshaws at such absurdity.]


What's my excuse for this double standard? I believe in the food chain. 


Can I at least lessen my karmic burden? I hope so.

Here are some simple things I believe I can and should do.


When shopping for food or eating out -


+  Choose free range. For the longest time, this was hard for me to do, as the cost of anything free range here can be prohibitive. But I've since learnt to buy and eat less, which is not a bad thing.


+  Don't just go for the canned tuna on offer. Jordan and Rufus ate tuna regularly and that's exactly what I used to do. Just as well it doesn't agree with Georgia's tummy. Here's a ranking for brands commonly found on Australian shelves. 


+  Stop eating pate foie gras and other food that is produced in dubious ways.


+ Do not eat caviar, yellow fin tuna, swordfish, orange roughy and other overfished or endangered fish. Want to know if your favourite eating fish falls in this category? Check out this helpful guide. 

+ Always read labels and try to make informed choices. Here are 2 useful guides for anyone reading this in Australia. I've learnt that my eggs are OK!
Animal Welfare Labels
Ethical Consumer Guide

I'm sure there are heaps more ideas you could add to that list. I'm learning as I go.

I'll never be a Jain, but I can do better than what I'm doing today.

+

Interesting titbit. 


Ahimsa 
The most fundamental value of Jainism is nonviolence, or ahimsa. This word is usually found on the Jain symbol of the open palm (which means "stop"). Ahimsa is the first of the vows taken by both Jain householders and monks. Ahimsa means harming no living being as well as protecting all living beings from harm. 


While several religions practice nonviolence and peace as a fundamental principle, Jainism is unique in extending this principle to all jivas (living beings). For Jains, living beings include not only humans and animals, but everything one finds on earth. Ahimsa must therefore be extended not only to humans and animals, but also soil, sand, oceans, fires, insects, microbes and plants.

For this reason, most Jains are not just vegetarians but "fruitarians" - they eat only fruit, nuts and milk. These foods are acceptable because they are only the by-products of the living beings and not the living beings themselves. To pull up a carrot or chop a potato would be to do violence to a living being (actually several living beings, as root vegetables are seen as multi-organic and therefore multi-souled).

This unique concept of nonviolence also explains why some Jain monks and nuns wear masks over their mouths and noses or carry whisks with which they brush chairs before sitting. To inhale or squash even a microbe would constitute violence to a living thing, resulting in unwanted karma.

Source 

As I said, the rabbit hole is cavernous.

Spit the dummy, what.

Dear Olivia and Petey from NYC, 


Thank you for asking me the question "What does spit the dummy mean?" I know I can sometimes be unintelligible, even when I'm not on the iPad and I appreciate brave souls who ask questions.


For example, I use BWAH haha! quite a bit in this blog. But what does it really mean? It 1st made an appearance in this strangely popular post, strangely also published on a Friday the 13th. I use it quite often in my comments as well. For me, it sits somewhere between a polite cackle like LOL or BOL and *!>!**#f*!!! hysteria and definitely has a sinister tone to it. 


But I digress! To get back to your question, it might be clearer if I gave you a few real life examples, all of which happened this morning.


Example 1.


This is the 1st time in a week that I'm sitting down at the real computer in the study. Wouldn't you know it? When I turned on the computer, there was no internet connection. It took 2 hours before the connection came back, it's still a little patchy and I'm hoping it doesn't drop out while I'm typing because that would really make me spit the dummy.


Example 2.


Twice a week, I wash bits and pieces from The Other Half's CPAP machine. I'm very unsure how to dismantle one bit despite having been shown how to do it 2 times before. I asked The Other Half when he came home from walking Georgia and he spat the dummy. Then he spat it again when I hogged the bathroom to do the wash up. Little did I know I forgot he was running late for an appointment with the mechanic. [I think he may also be over being sympathetic to my sore knee BWAH haha!]


And lastly.


Georgia ran off in the park this morning to eat something in the bushes. No one knows what it could be. Her tummy looks like she might have swallowed 1/2 a possum [hopefully dead] and she looks like she might chuck up any minute. What's more worrying, she didn't want to eat her fresh turkey leg for brekkie. Struth! I will spit the dummy if she gets crook again, just one week after her tummy got well and I will really get the shits if I have to hobble around cleaning up her chunder.

There you are, Olivia and Petey from NYC! I hope that cleared things up! Please let me know if there are other words I can help you with. As you may have gathered, I'm quite bored here.


[Just in case I was garbling again,  here's a possibly more concise little dictionary.]


Hooroo for now! and of course, please do have a great weekend :) Much love, The Typist X

Some things I'm frightfully grateful for.

#1  Being able to shower and wash my hair again! 

Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/

"Aarghh! What is that smell?"

Took off the compression bandage yesterday. The knee's looking good and nowhere near as swollen as the 1st arthroscopy [below]. I hope this means it's going to heal faster too.

A very close #2  My Cushion who, despite coming down with the flu yesterday, is taking care of the house, Georgia and me all by his snotty self. Where would we be without you, lovey? 


[P.S. Please don't buy me any more palmiers, muffins and sugar lips no matter how hard I beg.]


[At least, not till next week.]


#3  Shanghai Mahjong. 99 cents for 200 layouts. Even more addictive than Panadeine Forte. 

My top score so far, 541,000+. A fluke I'm sure. And I still have more than 100 layouts to go. Wheee!


#4  My Kindle. Finally reading the 1st book in the Game of Thrones series. Not quite as much fun after watching Series 1 and 2 on telly. Boy, is that Catelyn Stark horrible.

"Don't worry, Jon. I'll bite her if she dares to be mean to you again."


And last but not least.  My dog, who brought me home a gift from the park.

"Do you like it, Typist? I stole it from a kiddie, specially for you."


And who's been faithfully keeping me company through the long lonely hours.

[Though I suspect she might just be making herself comfortable on my bed].

+

I've started some simple rehab exercises! At this point, I'd like to thank my mestre for making us do 100 push ups and 800 sit ups in every class because, seriously guys, even with a bum knee,  this is not hard.

What's next?


Housework, I suspect. The dust balls under the bed are calling.

So here I am.

Sitting on my bed, waiting for ate another Half to come back from walking Georgia so I can have my first coffee of the day delivered to me yay! Endone is yumminess than Panadeine Forte. My knee is craving the good stuff. Stingy people at the ospital not to give me nag to bring ome, What me addictive? NO! Bored. Bored. Just read lotsof blogs and left comments that sometimes made no sense at all thanks to this iPad intuitive. Does anyone else have this problemL I sometimes spend as much time retuning comments as typing them.That should have been retry pig. no! Retrying. RETYPING. Is there a post in this hideous automated spelling thing that keeps correcting me and putting words into my mouth, I thought to muself. So, while twiddling my thumbs eating for the other half, I decided to type this post and NOT CORRECT ANYTHIGN IN TI, Wouldn't u know it? It's mostly behaving itself. Technology can be so devious, Hit PUBLIDH mow before I change my mind.

Hopefully by the time you read this.

I'm scheduling this post to appear tomorrow morning. I've never done this before, so I hope it works!

By the time you read this, I should be on an operating table with a hole in my knee. I hope I'll be sleeping properly and not doing a Hayden Christensen.


It'll be my 2nd arthroscopy in 2 years. This time, to fix a torn meniscus in my left knee which has been hurting since February after I foolishly practised a knee-twisting capoeira movement way too many times. 


I'll be very glad to get it fixed. I know it'll never be 100% again, but it should be better than what it is now. 


Of course, I could still be in the waiting room, getting hungrier by the minute and spitting the dummy at our public health system. [The last time, I waited 8 hours.] 


But I hope not.


Can't wait! See you on the other side :) x


Off to have a good dinner now, and an early night.

+

It's past 11 and unfortunately, I can't sleep. It's not that I'm anxious. The arthroscopy is just a minor operation.


But I'm starting to remember all the things I'll find painful for a while...


Getting into the bathtub for a shower.


Sleeping.


Sitting.


Walking down the stairs.


Walking.


Vacuuming. [Oh yes.]




And some of the things I won't be able to do comfortably for the next few months...

Walk Georgia. [Not that I've been doing any of that lately.]


Cuddle with her on my lap. [The downside of having a 48kg dog.]


Give my leg muscles a deep satisfying stretch. 


Sit cross legged. Sit in any one position for longer than 15 minutes. 


Fully straighten my leg. Fully bend my leg.


Squat. Kneel. Run. Jump.


Climb on a chair to reach the baking trays.


Climb up a ladder to prune the hedge.


Other miscellaneous jobs that require climbing.




And the things I'll have to do religiously to get better...


Rehab exercises, 2 to 3 times a day.


Ride a bike.


Slow to medium paced walking.


Acquire patience.



I expect it'll be the end of the year before I can get back to training capoeira. Back to square one, basic moves. 


No more adrenalin rush, endorphins, serotonin and dopamine for a while. I'm going to be one crabby  person and I won't even be able to eat chocolate with salt crystals, lemon mascarpone muffins and clotted cream bee stings to make up for it because, as everyone knows, if you eat and don't exercise, you get fat[ter].


It's almost midnight. Time to have a last drink of water and begin my fast.

+

Well, guess what? The scheduling didn't work. 


The arthroscopy is all done! I'm now the proud owner of a hole in my knee. I'd show you, but it's all bandaged up. I promise at least 1 gruesome picture ASAP. 


I was the 1st one in the theatre this morning! I have nothing but praise for the good people of our public health system! 


No showering for 3 days. Yuk. No housework for a couple of days a week. Yay! Happy on Endon. Ready to get some sleep now. 

A hopefully not too laborious update and some thank you notes.

It has come to my attention that The Typist has made me the butt of a cruel  joke [yet again] and when I was too weak to defend myself too. She can be a real stinker.


However, given that she might have been feeling cranky from sleep deprivation and it's her birthday week, I will forgive her and move on to more important things like an update on my health and happiness.

*Thank *you *EVeryone 

for your advice and for asking after me!  

I think my humans were quite worried because I've been quiet and mostly sleeping for 2 weeks. I stopped harassing The Typist for food. I didn't even want to cuddle with My Cushion or go for walks! To be honest, I don't know what came over me [and neither does Dr Dog].


But I'm back now and ready to push my humans' buttons again! [Strangely enough, they seem quite pleased with that but I'm sure the feeling will soon pass.]


Here's an update on what's been happening this week.


My Cushion took me shopping over the weekend. Since I now have to be on leashed walks, he bought me a new harness. It has a nice padded front and is very comfy. Considering I've had to make do with my old half-chewed one with a broken buckle for more than a year, I'm a little suspicious of this largesse.

"Why are you suddenly being so nice to me, Cushion? Are you feeling guilty because you let me jump the wall and hurt myself and gave me the lamb ear that [allegedly] made me fart?"

He also bought me this pillow. It's supposed to stop me chewing my toes. Just between you and me, it doesn't work too well [maybe because I'm a flexible dog] but I like it heaps better than The Horrible Thing so please don't tell my humans I told you so.

My pillow's name is DoughNut. 

Thanks Ms Jean for telling my humans about DoughNut. I'm so grateful you suggested it!  Thanks Flo's Mama for telling my humans where to get it here in Stryliah, and for offering to send me one!

*

I haven't had to wear DoughNut the last few days though because I've stopped trying to eat my paws. But I now have raw skin and scabs from trying to eat them last week so The Typist has to give my paws a medicated wash every! other! day! for 2 weeks. 


The Typist asked Dr Dog if it was a good idea to wash my paws in salt water as well and he said "Yes! That's a good idea!" 


Thanks Ms Rose for giving My Typist this good idea.

Here I am enjoying my soothing oatmeal and salt foot bath.

You can see how disgusted thrilled I am that I now have salt foot soaks to endure look forward to as well as my medicated baths. 

*

In other news, my neck is much better and I can now turn it around and look up. 


Here's a picture of me on my 3rd visit to Dr Dog. Don't worry. It's G-rated even though Dr Dog is feeling me up.

Unfortunately, my back left leg is now ouchy. Dr Dog had a look at it and thinks it could be a c.r.u.c.i.a.t.e  l.i.g.a.m.e.n.t  problem and we'll have to keep an eye on it. [I think this means I'm stuffed and won't be playing with my friends or jumping down walls for a long time forever.]

"Please don't tell me I'm not as young and nimble as I used to be. A Lady does not need to hear rubbish like that."

*

And finally, the most important update of all, and the one you've all been holding your breath for.

Yes. I have stopped farting.

Thank you Person In Charge.

Day 3.

A fervent plea to the Person In Charge Of Flatulent Dogs.
c.c. Minister of The Environment


Dear Person In Charge of Farting Fluffing Dogs That Pass Gas Wind,


It has now been 3 days and nights since my doggy started passing gas and she still hasn't stopped. 


Her Dr Dog says he's never heard of little blue pills making dogs fart before. And, as you know, we're very careful with what passes though her whiskered lips [though The Cushion did very misguidedly give her one [1] small dried lamb ear over the weekend]. It could be something she picked up at the park, but surely that's no fault of ours and the people who threw the rubbish there should be the ones made to suffer and not us. I'm sure you see the injustice of it all.


After having driven me to hide in the study on Sunday night, my doggy was kind enough to sleep downstairs on Monday night. Last night, we cleverly closed the bedroom door early so she couldn't get in! But she waited patiently in the guest room next door for more than 2 hours and when I opened the door, just a crack mind you, she pushed me aside to get in. 


What was I supposed to do, Person In Charge? She's been so down lately, not herself really, I couldn't break her little determined heart.


There are now black suitcases under my eyes and I fear the fragrance hanging around my doggy's bottom and our hair can never be shampooed away. 

"OMG! What is that pong? Didn't you have a shower tonight, Typist?"

Please oh please, Person In Charge, I beg of you! Help whatever is in my doggy's gut finish putrifying today and get dumped in the park [and picked up of course] so that we may all get some sleep tonight and not catch pneumonia. 

Your divine intervention is all we can hope for now. [That, and Flagyl if it still hasn't cleared up by tomorrow.]

I thank you in advance and from the bottom of my anxious heart. Your supplicant who is turning blue in the face, 


The Typist.


P.S. I am copying this to the Minister of Environment just in case he's interested in studying this [unfortunately] renewable source of energy.