Mmmmmmnope. (Otherwise titled: Crazy Puppy)

I had my insight into dealing with an infant through the end of last week.

On Tuesday evening, around 9pm, I realized that Madeleine's upper muzzle was a bit swollen on both sides. I had no idea what she might have gotten into, and promptly called the vet to get info for a recommended emergency vet from their recording. I called to see what they thought I should do. Their response was "if she's had a reaction, you need to come in." And oh by the way, it's $100 just to walk in the door.

Mmmmmmnope.

So I got some Benadryl from the landlord and snuggled in for what I hoped would be an uneventful night.

Mmmmmmnope.

Around 1:30am I woke up to her rubbing her muzzle, dry heaving, and her left eye swollen halfway shut. I jumped out of bed, called the emergency vet for their address, threw on some clothes, and rushed out the door with the little girl. Two backseat vomits later and a 20min drive (that should've been 35) and I was at the vet trying to figure out what was wrong with Madeleine. They agreed that she'd had a reaction to something, but checked her temperature anyway to rule out infection (she'd only had her spay surgery a week and a half ago). No temp meant a steroid shot, wash of the paws (her), orders to continue giving Benadryl (me), and rest.

We finally got home and settled, after I mopped the floor in the kitchen in case the reaction was to a possible spilled chili powder mix flake or two. In bed by 4am, I shot off a quick email to work to let them know I would be working from home later that day.

She slept for most of the day, waking only for water and snuggles with her head in my lap while I worked at the computer. I spoke with her vet on the phone that afternoon, letting them know that the swelling was reducing and she appeared to be getting better. They wished us luck on the continued road to recovery, and said to keep them updated.

Around 6pm, as the third round of Benadryl was wearing off, Madeleine felt like eating again. It was wonderful to see her eating again. Or so I thought.

Mmmmmmnope.

About an hour later, she vomited...for the first time. I figured she just ate too fast, so I watched her eat when she went back for more, and got her to eat slower when she did. Thinking that would help.

Mmmmmmnope.

About 5 vomits later, I took her food away from her, remembering that I had some leftover white rice in the fridge from a previous night's dinner. I set that down for her to eat and she happily gobbled it up. I set up the stove to cook more...

And she vomited at my feet.

A 12hr turnaround and 9 vomits later, I was at work trying to help make a deadline, praying that she had finally vomited the last time and the bland rice was starting to help. I worked until lunch and came home to check on her. Still puny as ever, I emailed in to say I'd be working the afternoon from home due to her state of puny and a vet checkup at 2pm.

The vet said what I had assumed. It was whatever she had gotten into just working its way through her body. They said that the steroid shot and the Benadryl had been masking the intestinal side of it, but now that those drugs had mostly worn off, we were seeing the tail end of the reaction finishing its course. Her swelling was all but gone, but I could tell by her eyes she was still feeling pitiful.

By this time, she hadn't thrown up since just before work, so I opted not to do the anti-nausea shot and instead just take her home for more Gatorade and white rice. In case you're ever wondering, dogs will drink blue Gatorade. It's the adult version of Pedialyte and all I had on hand. 7.5 cups of white rice later, no vomits, and lots of gatorade and water, I think we were finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

There were so many times I looked at her over those 60 hours, feeling helpless, asking "What did you get into? What do you need? What do I do?" I'm sure I experienced something akin to what new parents feel the first time(and I'm sure every time after, if they're good parents) their kid is sick. Do I feel ready?

Mmmmmmnope.

But I'll keep practicing with my little lady and hopefully some day I will be.

Project 365: Week 8 Recap

DAY 47: I think she knows we have a visitor coming in town this week.

DAY 48: Miss M's first snow. Can't wait to see what she does with more than a dusting.

DAY 49: Follow-up check for the pitiful pup at the vet after a rough couple days.

DAY 50: Beautiful fall flowers and cuddling with the pup while catching up on shows.

DAY 51: Drinks with the cousins at Libertine. Definitely on the "must return for more" list.

DAY 52: Image of all the Grand Nationals finalists lined up for awards to begin. My baby sister's awesome band got third! IN THE NATION!

Shopping cart shenanigans

If grocery stores are a microcosm of the human race...and shopping carts are the way we show our effort levels...I don't want to be a part of this species anymore.

On two separate instances, I saw things that horrified me in their laziness/stupidity today.

Instance one: At lunch I walked over to the grocery store before heading home to get some food for a recipe I planned to make tonight. Walking across the street and alongside the parking lot, I witnessed a college-age boy come out of the store. He then skip-pushed (you know what I mean...where you run and jump up on the cart to glide along for a few moments) his way to what I assume was his mommy's Cadillac SUV to unload his groceries junk food. After depositing said food in the vehicle, he then got into the SUV. The cart was still in the empty spot next to him. I shook my head. What happened next is what made my jaw drop. He started the car, rolled down the window, grabbed the cart, and DROVE it to the cart return. It was 5 spaces away. I hope the scratches on mommy's car were worth your sad sack of lazy bones. If you are the future of our country, I'm moving.

Instance two: After work, because I didn't have the recipe in hand, I got to go back to said grocery store to collect two ingredients. During this walk over, I saw a guy, my age or older, walk his cart through the lot after unloading his groceries in his car...past another stranded cart...across a lane...to an empty spot...and leave his cart. He just walked the distance to the cart return...in the opposite direction. Not only that, but the stranded cart he walked past? Another patron was sitting in his car waiting to pull into that spot, thinking this guy was going to collect the cart for him so he could do so. So this guy SAW me watch him...saw the person and his wife in the car watch him...and still did a lazy, indecent thing with absolutely no remorse.

Where's natural selection when you need it? What shopping cart karma god will avenge their stupidity? Get your sh!t together, 'Murica. I call shenanigans.

Who cares, I'm awesome

On a related note to my blessed post, where I mentioned a couple ways in which I'm getting over the single hurdle with the help of friends and family, I have another "single gal" funny for you.

One night last week, I was sitting at the computer working and saw a mouse - literally SAW IT - skitter across the floor from the living room to the kitchen. I texted the landlord who came through with 4 traps, two different kinds, and tips on setting them that night.

The next day, upon arriving home from work, I was greeted with the present of a mouse in a trap. After getting over the initial shock - not sure why I was shocked, exactly. After all, that was the intent when I set them - I walked over to gather the trap/mouse and dispose of it outside.

And then it jumped.

Holy blazes of hellfire.

What's funny to me now is: I jumped in a circle like a little girl, screaming and waving my hands....while it hopped the trap in a circle, screeching and trying to get loose.

And Madeleine? She was having a field day with the crazy.

So...I texted the landlord. He wasn't home to remedy the mouse situation (come to find out he's not a fan of mice either). Nor were any of my friends in a close distance. It was big girl pants time. I put the bag back over my hand, kicked the trap around so that I could pick it up from trap end, and went for it.

And then it squeaked.

And I dropped it.

And squeaked myself.

Round two was more successful and the mouse is now in mouse heaven somewhere. And me? I rewarded myself with a beer. No man needed here. I got this sh!t under control.

The S#!t Show that was Sunday

Now that I'm a couple days removed, I can laugh at myself a little.

Sunday...was brutal. Talk about death march.

I felt like a complete sh!t show.

Thankfully I only felt this way, not WAS this way.

In the process of trying to figure out why I was hurting so much, I played internet doctor and now know where my appendix and gallbladder are located. Good news, the pain source wasn't at either of those locations.

I also realized that I need to change my living will. (I realized this before I realized where my appendix was. While in a fever-induced delirium, I was concerned my stabbing pain was appendicitis.)

I was laying on the couch in fetal position, whimpering, thinking...ok, if I go to the ER...who do I call? Who is my emergency contact? F#(k, I need to change my will. Katie gets all my sh!t (You're welcome). I need to write this down. I don't want to get up to get a pen and paper. I don't even think I CAN get up to get a pen and paper. They'll just have to take dictation in the ambulance. Mooooaaaaannnn. Whimper.

I'm not kidding about the whimpering. It was PATHETIC. If there were drunk kids milling about, they would have vine'd me like nobody's business. I would be almost asleep (I think) and wake up to whimpering sounds even I didn't know I made.

Plus side: I cleaned the toilet on Saturday.

Negative: It now needs to be cleaned again.

Plus side: Really awesome diet.

Negative: If you enjoy hurling your favorite comfort foods and convulsing like the girl from The Exorcist.

Plus side: Good workout from all muscles being tensed while in a feverish shake all day.

Negative: You feel like you were pummeled by a MMA fighter the next day.

Oh, did I mention, while all of this was going on, my dog ate the head off of a dead bird? Yeah, that happened.

Another's brave journey

A dear friend lost his job today. I know this blog is about me and my journey, but so much of me is given strength by the close knit group of friends I am lucky to have (see here and here) - so for me, his journey is my journey. As he is my friend, I am his. And today I feel for him.

I almost don't know where to begin; all of the thoughts seem to be swirling like an unkempt merry-go-round, tumbling around with the mismatched clothes in the dryer (because why the hell would a merry-go-round be in the dryer? My point exactly. Bag o' cats up there). I pained that I didn't know how to come to his aid today, and I myself have heard - and been frustrated by - too much of "I know how you feel" lately to be able to utter those words to him as he shared the news with his friends. I've had to leave a job, many jobs in fact, in the past because of military moves, but have yet been stationary and without. So I don't, truly, know how it feels. I found myself wanting to say it, and bit my tongue as we spoke. Remembering how those words felt like a hot hand on my cheek when others said them to me.

But I empathize nonetheless.

The world of architecture right now, and in recent years, is not an easy one. While most of the nation struggled/struggles under a max 8% unemployment rate, architecture has been almost double that at times - and still sits above the national average. Even so, he is a talented architect. He is goal-oriented and attuned to details. He is so worthy of a blessed future and I can only imagine how downtrodden he feels tonight.

He is one to always see the design in things, how something relates to another. Another friend described him recently as "the big picture" guy. When I saw this quote today, I immediately thought of him.

I hope he realizes the support structure he has. His family. His friends. His peers. I hope he realizes his value to the profession. I hope he sees this as a chance to redirect the journey, rather than a collapsed bridge. I have many hopes, but mostly I hope he finds peace in the unsettled moments, both now and in the immediate future.

I know he is a believer, so I will end with this, because no one ever says it better than He does.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

We're all in your corner. Know that, if you know anything.

Count your blessings

This past couple days I had a nice reminder of the good great friends and family I have in my life.

On Friday morning, I wasn't feeling too great as I got to work, but counted it off as not having yet had breakfast. Later that day a coworker texted to check on me to make sure everything was ok. He had noticed me seeming a bit off and just wanted to check in. While I felt bad that I was broadcasting any other feeling than happiness, it was such a happy surprise to know that I have close friends to check on me, even when I'm not asking for help outright. One of the many reasons I call them my "Schmidt family". I will admit, he might be on heightened alert because his wife is now in the midst of pregnancy with their first child. Dare I say he might be getting attuned to changing facial expressions of women when uncomfortable. ;) I'm so excited to see them start this journey together and this small gesture to a friend shows me even more how great of a dad he will be to their little girl.

Evidently the pangs early Friday might have been a stomach bug settling in, because by Sunday I was down for the count. Fever, vomiting, aches, the works. Well...the vomiting came later, but still. So I texted my dad early in the day to ask him to come play superdad and bring me some "comfort food" by the way of sprite and grilled cheese and tomato soup, as well as to provide some manual labor to do some chores around the house that I was planning on doing that day: remove the window aircon, lay down the insulation in the attic, etc. He showed up, lacking cape (or perhaps it was invisible) but superdad nonetheless. There's no longer a draft and the temperature in the apartment has been much better since the insulation got fixed. I made some lunch, and slowly ate it as we sat and chatted about the housing market and life in general.

After revisiting lunch (thankfully I had spent some of the previous day cleaning the toilet), I was granted another small blessing in the form of my wonderful landlords. Or I guess their son...and his love for applesauce. They were kind enough to give me some - with a moderate radius being kept for germ reasons - that night when I was finally starting to feel okay enough to try and eat again. Oh the small joys of plain applesauce. Thanks, O-man!

During parts of this weekend, I lamented my singlehood, just wanting someone to do a load of laundry, or the dishes, or lay down the insulation, or cuddle me while I was completely down for the count. It would have been easy to get stuck in that low spot, but I (surprisingly) didn't. Perhaps I was too delirious with fever. Who knows.

While my dad and my friends cannot necessarily do some of that list, I feel so blessed to know that there's some chores on that list they are willing and ready to take to hand. Sometimes just saying you're there is enough. Sometimes all it takes is climbing a ladder to brighten a girl's day.

Many blessings. Many thanks.

Project 365: Week 4 recap

DAY 22: Lady M always gives me this sideways head cocked expression when I whistle at her. It makes me laugh every time.

DAY 23: I was reminiscing about New Hampshire falls today and was reminded on my drive home that my current locale ain't so shabby, either.

DAY 24: Madeleine is getting so big! There are times I come home for lunch and ask her if she grew while I was gone, but it's most evident when she stands next to the landlords' dogs.

DAY 25: SARA BAREILLES! I was stoked out of my gourd all day at work and in complete bliss at the show. If you are ever given a chance to see her live, take it! Three experiences so far, not once have I been even remotely close to disappointed.

DAY 26: Happy first birthday, little skittle! Hard to imagine it's already been a year.

DAY 27: First bath time at home. Madeleine was not a fan, but didn't make too much of a mess either. Her poor, shivering body was torture enough.

(You'll notice I missed a day. I didn't want to mis-label the posts and end on 28 and cut myself short. I promised 365 images, and 365 I will deliver.)

Have a great week!

Pressurized minerals

There are many ways that puppies train you for children. Today, and for the next couple days, I will get to experience one of them. Dealing with poop.

You know that saying when sometimes people are acting like they think they're special? Some variation of "What? Does she think she shits rainbows?" Or something about the poop being valuable. Well right now Madeleine's poop is VERY valuable. 

Today while I spent lunch on the phone with the California State Board of Equalization (small business stuff), she spent it barking. Towards the tail end of the conversation, the barking stopped. That should have been my sign that trouble was afoot. Instead , 15 minutes later, I realized she was chewing on something. What, you might ask? None other than my amethyst necklace, an heirloom from my great grandma. It must have broken off the clasp earlier that day (I put it on to wear it to work that morning) and she found it on the floor. 

It is now missing 4 small amethysts. And I am digging through poop for the foreseeable future.

Happy Monday, folks. I guarantee yours was better than mine!

What I've been up to

Since I've been dormant for awhile except to the closest of friends, here's a synopsis of the last 3+ months in all avenues of my life.

Work

I moved back to Indy at the beginning of June. I could've gone anywhere, really. Stayed in SoCal for a couple weeks, figured out where was hiring in the Arch world *laughs to self*, and moved there. But I knew where I wanted to work, so I moved there.

I've worked with Schmidt twice already, and loved both experiences. They take pride in their work and the sense of work community is better than I've seen at most other firms that do substantial work. There are a core group of people (of the 90+) that I consider my "work family", and I love being back in the fold of that environment. (I was hired on in a contract setting to help them through two projects that will last through Thanksgiving, at which time I will hopefully transition to full time.)

I'm not kidding when I say family - this gang of misfits came after a day's work, mid-week, and helped me unload my uhaul of the heavy furniture items and maneuvered it up some windy stairs into my new domicile. We then drank beer and shot the sh!t. It's great to be back.

Play

I've been getting back into the groove of having fun and hanging with friends: hosted and been to some parties, concerts, races, awareness walks, low key wine nights, drinks on the porch, backyard movies...the good stuff. I've been smiling a lot, laughing even more, and just having fun. It's refreshing.

Home Life

If you haven't realized (which means you're living under a rock, because all of my social media outlets have had proof of her, like I'm a brand new, first-time mom or something), I got a dog mid-August. She's a black standard poodle. I gave her the name Madeleine, after the Col de la Madeleine. It is one of the toughest climbs in the tour, a hairy switchback known for separating the strong from the weak, and a perfect name for my new little french girl.