Doggie Ear Infection

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Annie had an ear infection during the last weeks I was in Idaho.  The vet visit and treatment and prescription?  $80 bucks.  Follow-up included. 

Annie had an ear infection during the last week here in San Francisco.  The vet visit and treatment and prescription?  $270 bucks.  Follow-up remains to be seen, but was told that it counts as another office visit minimum.

San Francisco?  Not so much in love with you at the moment.

The treatment was a one time something put into her ear so I wouldn't have to do drops every day.  Turns out that was less expensive too.  But man, has it made the one side of her head a gloppy mess.  You can tell in this picture - the dark, oily looking area around her ear is the drainage.

She doesn't seem to have been born with the gene that makes some dogs never get water in their ears.  She can't even take a shower without getting water in there, it seems.  Sundays are her spa days, where I groom her really well, and check all her body parts to make sure all is well.  I've been cleaning her ears with water or hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls.  Ooops.  Not spose to do that.  It's not like I made water drip down her ears... just used it to dampen the cotton balls.  Moisture bad for ears.

Added to the budget?  $25 bucks a month added to a separate debit card that gets frozen in a glass of water in the freezer.  

There was a silver lining tho.  There is an organization calls P.A.W.S. who helps disabled people with their pet care.  If you can't walk your dog, volunteers do it.  They help with dog food, and $200 a year towards vet bills.  I had tried to apply for it before, planning ahead for a time I may not be able to walk Annie, but they told me I had to wait till I was actually at that point, and there is a two year waiting list.  The billing person at the SFSPCA said she would refer me to P.A.W.S. and I would be "expedited".  In writing this, I realize I haven't been called yet... hmmm.  Must follow up.

In other news, Michael is doing well in his quest for Disability, medical care and housing.  It's like a full-time job lately, but progress is being made. 

See the silver thing hanging off her collar?  My house key.  Brill. Ant.


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City Hall Bike Ride

Safe feeling bike path

Hank and I went bike riding last week, and I warned him that if he didn't let me start letting me post pictures of him, I'd start referring to him as Hank E. Panky in the blog.

There's a HUGE biking community in this city, because it's "green", and people are encouraged to ride bikes, to ease up on the public transportation system.  I recently attended a 4 hour bike safety class and learned all the many ways I've been breaking the law!



Hank E. Panky, Annie and I enjoyed biking downtown around City Hall and the Civic Center. 

Sitting so GOOOOD even tho her ball is rolling away...

I get confused every time I see this building, because to me, it looks like a capital building, which would make San Francisco the capital of California.  But no, this is "just" City Hall.  I got the opportunity to go inside the other day, as there was a hearing about a group of people who wanted to get funding for getting Delores Park and area designated as a Historical .... site.... place.... Neighborhood.  Which would delay the renovation of the park for years.  It's already being delayed by the Arts Counsel right now - they don't like the look of one of the restrooms the Steering Committee approved of.  It would have entailed getting the okay of the residents of over a thousand buildings, most of which are apartment buildinngs with multiple families in them.  One of the guys who was on the Steering Committee for the park renovation emailed everyone, warning of the "danger" of this, and our presence would be good at the hearing.  Three of us showed up, and spoke of our disapproval of the Historical plan, based on the fact that we hadn't been aware of such plans during the Steering Committee process, and it seemed a bit shady that a small number of people who claimed to have been meeting once a month for 7 years to get this done, but no one had ever heard of this group.  I even spoke up - me being "political", but they were messing with MY park, gol darn it! 

This is a good picture of the weird trees in front of City Hall, but I was mostly taking pictures of this guy with his pugs.

His fat pugs.

See how cleverly I used Annie as my subject?  

She always does as I tell her.  All I had to say was "Annie, go smell the flowers so I can pretend I'm taking your picture rather than the Fat Pugs behind you".

She so smart.

Snort.  

The very Fat Pugs

 Here I was cleverly taking a picture of this girl's shoe.  Imagine my surprise when I noticed the Fat Pugs in the same picture.... 

 Could they be fat because he brought them to the park in a stroller???  He parked them at the halfway point of the block, and walk them only one time the length of the block.  They wanted to play with Annie, but the man wouldn't let them - poor things.  Pugs often have breathing problems anyway cause their breeding has mushed their faces/noses so much, and I could hear these poor dogs wheezing the entire time they were there. 

Hank E. Panky thinks I get too overly worked up over dogs.  Sniff.

The Asian Museum.  Dog Park peops say well worth going

Hank is obsessed with how many newspapers SF has.  I told him he gets too worked up over them  

No idea...

I think this is the San Francisco Symphony Center

Speaking of the Symphony, they played in Delores Park last Sunday.  It was A MAZ ING.  

Our bike ride mapped at 5.93 miles.  

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Wednesday Weigh-in

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I should start a book called "The Trike and I".  Because of it, I'm finally doing what I wanted to do, which was to see the city in which I dreamed of moving to.  I'm able to ride the trike and whomever I'm with just walks along with me.  I'm really respectful of people on the sidewalk, not zooming along like a tiny Honda amongst a bunch of SUV's.  Hank sold his bike cause he'd rather walk the hills, and there's so many stairs in this city - he doesn't like carrying it.  So he walks with me and I carry the load of our adventures in the bike basket.  So Handy.  

Hank, Annie and I are out on the bike, exploring the city.  I'm trying to find the Trans America building.  You'd think it'd be easy to find.  It's my third journey downtown, specifically to find "downtown".  It doesn't ever occur to me to look it up on a map beforehand - it seems like it would be easy to find, so who needs a map?  Exploring is the name of the game, right?  Hank, typically hates to ask for directions, so he's mute on the subject, which works for my exploring gene. 

But there's a problem with all this exploring on the bike.  I've been averaging at least 4 miles a day, and there's been a couple of days where I've done 8 and 10 miles.  

The problem?  

I get HUNGRY.  I haven't been hungry in a long time.  Evidently, I've been keeping myself well protected from that particular feeling.  

The evidence?

Can you see it?  It's proof that it DOES exist in San Francisco, despite my earlier belief that large, corporate chains don't exist in this city. 

It's Wal*Mart that isn't allowed - because of it's poor ... I can't think of the word.  Something about it's poor treatment of it's employees.  I hear there is a Target coming to town.  There's already a PetCo, Whole Foods galore and a Burger King.

As we walked down the street, I told Hank, "hmmm, smells like a McDonalds near by".  We looked around, and sure enough... there was a McDonalds!

Dun dun dun.

Despite it being weigh-in day at Weight Watchers later on that evening

Hello, six pound weight gain.  

Sheesh. 

Updated Thursday Morning:  The points for this McDonalds meal?  52.  Points I am allowed?  27.  Ahem.  

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Sunday Snippets

I missed the Nascar race last night, thanks to Comcast's messing up my account and me losing my temper and cancelling my Preferred channels, down to Basic.  Who knew that would leave me with only 30 channels??? Sheesh.  I hate those promotional deals they get to suck you in, and when the promotion is over, it's waaaayyy more expensive then what it was supposed to be.  I remember specifically that it was spose to be under 75 bucks, and I missed the notice (if there actually was one) that said the promotion was over.  $139.00 a month, here it was! 

My neighbor is singing along with his music.  I find it amusing and comforting.  I love happiness.  And hahaha, just as I typed that - another neighbor is screaming at somebody.  Something about "good" people don't live in filth.  The neighbor below me must be smoking pot.  Secondary high, anyone? 

Annie and I went down to the courtyard to do her bizness this morning cause I didn't want to get distracted by taking her out in the world, which tends to happen every time I go out.  I was in the rare mood to clean up my apartment.  When we were down there, my suspicions were confirmed.  It IS my cat who is meowing his fool head off.  Evidently, he can hear me and Annie playing ball in the courtyard.

I'm working hard to get my project off the ground, but it's requiring me to set up another blog.  Somehow I set up 2 separate accounts, which requires extra steps that I do not want to do, and got all confused being numbers and passwords and blah blah blah.  And then?  My new blog was removed by Blogger for spam!  It's a long process to get it back, and I need to get it back, since my new business cards have that web address on them.  Blogger responded today, and now it's up for "review".  A blog with no content in it yet should be reinstated pretty quickly.

My hands are hurting today.  I finally got my Lyrica prescription sorted out correctly.  It took my neuro a couple times to rewrite the script from 60 pills to 90, so that the pharmacy could get Medicare to pay for it.  The one "complaint" I have with the medical care here is that I have to deal with doctors in training.  My neuro is a resident and so, moved on to something else.  The doctor taking her place says there's no notes in my chart regarding another MRI on my spine.  I have the prescription for the Ativan for it, cause I get just a little freaked out.  He was going to get in touch with her, but I haven't heard anything for a month.  I'm spose to have another appointment for the spinal tap results, but again, the ball has been dropped because of the switch in doctors.  I'm not really complaining - it just requires my having to make follow-up phone calls, which I HATE to do. 

My first Weight Watcher's weigh-in is Tuesday nite, so I'll make Wednesdays be my day to post the numbers.  Weight-in Wednesday... works for me.  I didn't track my foods very well, since I didn't have much food to track... my food stamps got cancelled despite my efforts to get my paperwork in on time.  I remember asking on Facebook to get yelled at to get it done.  Well, I got yelled at, and got the paperwork DONE.  Getting it MAILED seemed to be a whole nother issue.  Am rolling eyes at myself.  But I called on Friday, and I should get the letter reinstating them this week.  Same with my Medi-Cal, which hasn't been a problem.  So far, all it pays is the Vitamin D prescription.  Did you know Vit D is the lastest "thing" for "curing" MS?  Not curing exactly... just that MS'ers seem to have a severe deficiency of Vit D.  I, for one, started it about a month ago and I wonder if it has anything to do with my current state of health, which includes not falls for about 2 weeks now...  hmmm.

A word from the wise, learned hard.  I used to dry food out all the time for my cats.  Barf seemed to be eating the majority of it, cause he was gaining weight, and I never saw Hiney at the dish.  I read something online about feeding them only twice a day, and stop the free-feeding.  So they've been getting canned wet food, (and I add water, cause most cats don't drink enough water) in the morning, and a quarter of a cup of dry food in the evening.

By doing this, much to my happiness, it stopped Barf's incessant meowing all day.  Now he only meows twice a day - when it's morning feed and evening feed.  They have their own spot in the apartment and their own dish.  Now I know who's eating what and how much, and rarely do I see either at the other's dish. 

Why having constant dry food in their dish made Barf meow all freaking day long, but now, NOT having it except in the evening, he's NOT meowing all day long... I have no idea.  I guess I'm not that wise after all.

TTFN
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Photo Friday - Dog

Annie met the doggie blanket.  And earned herself a spot on Photo Friday.

 I mean... she REALLY met the doggie blanket!

 She's just being a dog.

 Doing the right thing... establishing rank

 Does the doggie blanket pass inspection?  

 Guess so!  

TTFN

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This and That

If I were someone who cared about me, like family and friends, I would be VERY irritated with me right now.  It seems there is no happy medium when it comes to my communications with ya'll.  If I'm not blogging, Facebooking, emailing - then you probably deduce that I'm either doing really badly or really good.  Cause when I'm doing really good, I'm all out and about and too happy.  I've never written during happy times.  Plus, you can't trust me - I lie about how I'm doing when it's really bad.  I promised my kid that I would stop doing that.

I've been doing really, really, really well for the last .... 4 days.  See, now I'm freaking out - I probably just jinxed myself!

I've quit sleeping on park benches, under the bed, all day and all night.  But on the days I have medical appointments (2), I didn't sleep the night before.  I've realized I'm a bit obsessive about GETTING to the appointments.  Not because of the bus, or where to go type of stuff - it's the worry about whether I'm understanding the Time.  Time as in the clock.  Am I reading the clock right, and am I understanding the appointment reminder sheet correctly?  Has Annie peed and poo'd appropriate amounts that I don't have to worry about her needing to go during the outing?  How many extra minutes should I plan for that?  The clock and I have issues - the same issues I have with money.  I just don't "get" numbers - they don't process well in my head.  My sister had to take over my money for me cause of it.  It carries over to conversations too.

Me:  Has anyone seen CrazyZert today?  Cause he destroyed the shrubbery of someone up the block and they called the cops on him.
B.Martha:  His case worker was here and made him take a shower this morning.

A few minutes pass and we discuss him more and other things.

Me:  So, really, I'm serious.  I'm worried that they may have taken CrazyBert to jail, so has anyone seen him?
B.Martha:  ummm, duh.  What part of "his caseworker made him take a shower this morning did you not understand?"
Me:  Oh.

I just don't put 2 and 2 together.  It's not about not listening, because we talked about how much he needed a shower, but he wouldn't allow getting his hair shampooed, and we needed to be careful cause he might have lice at this point, blah blah blah.

I just don't process things if it requires putting 2 and 2 together.

ANYWAYS, I digress.

I am doing TERRIFIC.  I've been riding the trike everywhere, and it's an answer to a prayer all of a sudden. I finally figured out that I could raise the seat - and it's soooo much easier!  I've got some power in these legs after all!  I've been riding it with the pedals way too short.  I couldn't believe the difference.

My dog park friend, Zill, told me yesterday that I was doing as good as she's ever seen me before.  Today, I walked down the rail-less stairs in the park like a normal person would - left right left right one step per foot, instead of left right each foot each step.  Hmmm.  I wonder if that made any sense?  I did hang on to Annie, cause hey, I'm not stupid.  I did a dance of victory when I reached the bottom of the steps - inside my brain.  I haven't been able to jump or do anything that requires two feet off the ground at the same time in a very long while.

                                


Yesterday, the news anchor asked the weatherman if we were going to get a break from "these extreme temperatures".  Extreme meaning 2 days of almost 75 degrees.  !!!  ???  I laughed out loud.

I feel physically strong.  Which is very, very rare for me.  I've done the trike for the last 3 days, but today I decided to walk cause I felt so good.  But I stayed in the shade, and I only did half of the park - cause I don't want to OVER DO IT.  Dumb f*cking words.  Yesterday, I biked (triked?) 6 blocks to the post office to mail off baby gift to Zusti.  (I've decided to disquise my real life friends with the letter Z cause I can never remember the fake names I used to use).  Little baby Zate is 4lbs as of a couple days ago!

I'm so excited.  Annie's mobility harness is spose to come today.  I left the FedEx man a love note downstairs on the gate to call me cause I am home.  Last time I made a point to be home for delivery, they didn't call.  Just left a note on the gate that they would try to deliver again the next day, so I spent 2 days waiting for the dang thing.

It's here!  And omg, is it wonderful.  Sooo much easier.

Annie's first day with the mobility harness

~

Cindy Dear...

Has enough time passed?...

Murder at Cindy's House Easter 2012

   It wasn't me!  I walked in the door to this mayhem...

Clearly, it was Annie.
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Ocean Beach and MS

Remember all my bravado about not being ready for a wheelchair?  Well, my brain may not have a say about it.

Ouch.  A random post I came across.  Weird huh?

Anyways, my physical downfall has caught me completely off guard.  I went to the beach last week on the bike, over 10 miles and felt GREAT.  Then we walked the beach on Friday, being careful not to over-do it, or so I thought.

Annie is holding her own against her boyfriend Oloney.  She's been afraid of the waves, but not any more.  Hank refuses to be pictured on the blog so this will have to do

My hands are confused putting the key in my door.  Lifting the second leg onto the bed requires using my hands to get it up.  The need for sleep is ... the weirdest sensation I've ever felt - it is not possible to deny.

The one night that Annie kept asking to go outside, I simply could not go out my door, without bouncing from wall to wall.  So I set out newspaper on the carpet, and told her to go potty there, hoping she'd understand.  I couldn't even stay awake long enough to see - I fell into bed, arms pinned underneath me, too exhausted to get into a more comfortable position.  When I woke up in the morning, I saw that she had peed on the papers!  I was so proud of her.  And then so sad for her.  I picked up the peed upon papers and hung them over the bathtub, hoping to train her to go in the tub, both pee and poo for my bad days.  My neighbor down the hall has offered to take her outside when I can't take her outside, but I was not able to remember that in the condition I was in.  Everything shut down.  I didn't pee, or poo, or eat, or drink.  I slept like a rock, completely asleep before I turned onto my side.  I texted with my son here and there, about me traveling to Denver maybe but it would not have happened if I got honest with myself.  He called me on Mother's Day, and I lied about having to go play cards cause I couldn't maintain the cheerful I am fine tone, and I wanted to go back to sleep.  I'd wake up to listen to Barf and Annie fighting with each other and go right back to sleep, glad they were occupying themselves.

Hank tried to help, but all he could do was just stand by, and he finally realized there was nothing he could do to help, so he spent most of his time looking for a job.

Why do I lie?  Because I'm trying to convince myself I can do it.  I'm sorry, my son.  When it comes to MS and you, I can't seem to tell the truth.  I don't want you to know how horrible it is.  I don't want to scare you.  I want you to keep climbing rock walls.

I do not think over-doing it was the thing.  I think it was time for a flare-up.  Cause it's over just as quick as it came on.  I walked Delores Park twice today and didn't feel a bit of physical exhaustion.

I've never felt such an over-powering need for sleep.  It may well have been my first true fatigue flare-up.
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"I give in. I give up." Highs & Lows of Being Me Part Two

Something has shifted within me during the last week of highs and extreme lows.

 For me to be "showing this"... this shit thing on my body not doing what it's supposed to do to someone close to me (Hank) is ... something.  I don't know why I try to hide it from people - mostly Jeremy, and whomever I was in a relationship but I do.  Part of it is the Single Mother Syndrome, I Did It All For Years and Years, and part of it is not wanting to be a burden, specially to my kid.  For me to be having "old person" issues at the age of 40 was far too soon for me to be taken care of by my kid.  He was just starting his life, and being tied down to a mother who can't walk sometimes was unacceptable to me.  On several occasions, he would tell me about their plans to build or buy a house that had room for me, and I would tell him no - no daughter-in-law wants to share her home with her mother-in-law starting out from the get-go, as much as I loved her. 

As far as relationships, one man left shortly after I was diagnosed.  For other reasons, but my psyche took it personally, unbeknownst to me.  I didn't take is personally - the MS did.  (Snort)  There was someone who seemed to "get it", and he did at first, but it was all an act to cover an incredibly narcissistic ego.  That burned me, but I didn't learn from it for years.  The thought of being with someone simply would not compute after that man.  To be alone was a relief.  I have not been lonely, or sad, or depressed without a man.  Altho... I'm making myself sad right now, at the thought of it being a "relief".  As in, relief from the exhaustion of being sucked dry by someone very, very lovable... yet, basically a con man.  A victimized con man to boot.  Oh, but he could make me laugh. 

There was someone after him, and thank God/Dog? for him, because he restored my faith in men, again without me realizing it till much later.  I learned I was still lovable even tho I had MS.   He was/is a very good man, and because of him, I know what it's like to be truly, truly cared for ... even spiritually, and he was enough.  For a lifetime.  If that makes any sense. 

Part of "getting it", for me, is being able to be helped without it being obvious, being tuned in enough to notice I need help without me having to ask.  That's a lot to ask for, but some people are a natural at it.  Another very, very important part of it is being able/allowed to help BACK.  I can do so little - so it's important to me to be able to do what I can do.  If you don't let me help you back in some way, then we have an unequal relationship, where I am beholden to you.  Some people like that or seem to need that.  Those are the people I don't get close to.

All this to say... Hank is seeing some of this MS shit.  Not the active inabilities cause he just happens to miss those occasions being busy with finding a place to live ... but the aftermath.  The exhaustion and inability to recover quickly.  He's one of those who have an innate sense of how to help someone without being a dick about it.  Or expect anything back for it.  I don't have to explain, and more importantly, don't neeeed to explain.  I just feel accepted. 

Which reminds me, someone once implied that he thought I was a "loosie goosie", to put it politely.  He said it in a cruel way tho.  I used to feel very guilty for that, but I don't now.  You try losing the sensation in your hands and feet, and having it move up and down your body.  It makes you might want to experience "life" a little more in case you lose it altogether forever ... if you know what I mean.  

I'm a firm believer in "You Pick Out What You Need to Work Out" as far as partners.  With my first husband, it was about emotional distance = father issues.  My second husband was alcoholism and sexual abuse = my father again.  Tucker did not sexually abuse me - he made me feel safe enough for the memories to surface and he loved me anyways.  The alcoholism was who he was tho, and I couldn't do it anymore after finally getting healthy about it.  The third long-term relationship taught me about physical, emotional, and verbal abuse, which taught me the rest of the things I needed to know in order to get even more healthy.

Then I got sick.  With the MS.  I told you part of those guys.

With Hank... it's the first time in a very long time that ... oh, this is going to sound so awful.  It's the first time I don't care.  Maybe I should rephrase that.  I had learned that it's not my job to "fix" or to do all the work in keeping a relationship going.  But now I know that whether he stays or goes, it doesn't matter cause I'm okay on my own.  I had learned that right before the MS struck, but I didn't have the track record to prove it.  It was all theory.  Now I have the proof, and I know it for sure.  It has made a hell of a difference.  I don't have to use ummm feminine wiles to attract or keep him.  I don't have to work at this.  It's just so damn easy this time.  And I think he's in the same space too, so it's double the easy.

I might even use the walker tonite when we go out...

Oh yes, the walker is also why I am happy and content again.  Isn't that odd?  After the HORRIBLE day where I could not walk, I bought a cheapie walker from the thrift shop a couple of days later.  I've had them before but I gave them away when I moved here.  (Cause moving to SF was spose to cure me, don'tcha know)

I am still able to take the trike bike for grocery shopping and do use it for close-by errands.  But as far as exploring the city?  Impossible.  There's hills here. And wind.  I thought Idaho had the wind, but it shares the wind with San Francisco. 

Altho I did say, I give in, I give up, I've made a decision to keep walking as long as I can.  I'm not ready for a wheelchair.  That physical therapist who seemed to contradict herself by writing out the report that I needed a wheelchair, but that the goal of PT was to keep their patients mobile kept ringing in my head.   And it kept irritating me.  So I did what everyone does when one is irritated by something they cannot solve.

I Googled "walkers".

I have a prescription for this one, and I have to go back to my primary doctor's office to see the social worker in order to start the process of getting it.

It's okay.  Good enough for now.












But then I saw this... and it would solve a few problems the one above has, mostly the tendency to lean over, which KILLS my back.  Also, it goes over bumps and cracks (and MUNI tracks?) with a lot more stability. 

The point is... there's more options that will keep me on my feet for a longer time.  I'm not ready for a wheelchair.  I WILL continue the process of getting one, just in case the funding stops for wheelchairs in the future. 

Walkers are cheaper than a chair.  I'm thinking I might as well try for the Cadillac version.  

So between the trike and the walkers... I've got more time.


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My Service Dog is a Thief

~

A couple of visits ago to Idaho, my mom, Annie and I were shopping at Wal-mart.  As we walked towards the registers, I happened to look down at Annie, and she had an Angry Bird stuffed toy in her mouth.  I had no idea where she picked it up.  We could have walked out of the store and triggered the shoplifting alarm that beams a spotlight on you with the siren sounds and blue cop lights spinning around!

As my mom and I laughed over it, this lady came over and handed me a 5 dollar bill so we could buy it.  Of course, I tried to give it back to her, but she insisted, because Annie was so damn cute about it.  So I asked if I could take her picture and Annie acted like a damn fool, refusing to sit up.

Later, over lunch, I got to thinking.  I knew Angry Birds were really popular, and just my luck, the stuffy probably cost 15 dollars!  I looked at the receipt - well, okay, it was 8 dollars.

A month ago, when I had to go back to the hardware store several times before my keys were made correctly, Annie had shop-lifted a Reese's Piece of candy that they had in a bowl on the counter.  Someone was pointing and laughing at her, and I looked down at her - she had a piece in her mouth.  Grrrrr.  There she is, needing discipline/training to not do that, but she's getting attention from others for being so cute and personable.   And she damn well knows it!

This dog.  She always makes me laugh.

~

Highs and Lows of being Me

This last week has brought on extreme lows and, right now, and for the last 2 days, a deep contentment and outright happiness. 

Jeremy had need of his birth certificate.  Years ago, I had got him a certified copy and given it to him.  When he married Dusti, I had given her a notebook with household organizing pages, and put his hospital birth certificate in it under B.  Or maybe C.  Anyways, after they divorced, I saw the notebook and looked thru it.  There was the certificate still.  So I took it back.  Of course - I did not remember this. 

Jeremy text-ed me a picture of his copy the other day with "Notice something?"  They had his birthday wrong - transposed the numbers 30 to 03. 

I had recently gone round and round with the Social Security office about my birthday - they had it in their system as the 31st rather than the 30th, and I was unable to do anything online with my magic disability money because of it.  I found it ridiculous that the Social Security had messed up on both of us - 2 of us in the same family!  And it's not like MS had a role - doing his certified copy was years and years ago, and I had to show them the hospital one in order to get it.  And despite the MS, I have not forgotten my OWN BIRTHDAY.  I'm sure it was just a matter of typing it in wrong in both cases. 

Taking a wild guess, I looked under B in my file cabinet, and discovered Jeremy's original birth certificate!  So I text-ed him a picture of it, hoping that would be proof enough, should he need it.  And off I went to the Social Security office with both copies of our birth certificates - glad to help him solve his problem (I get to HELP! him, for a change), and solve mine too, which I had forgotten about.  Course, once I was there, they told me I had solved mine a few weeks ago... I'd just forgotten, and could've been doing my business online for weeks now. 

The security guard at the Social Security office saw me coming and met me at the door with my ticket number (order in which to be helped) so I wouldn't have to walk to the middle of the room to get it myself.  

I was hoping for a good, long wait in line there at the SS office, so I could rest, but noooo.  I was in and out of there within 20 minutes.  Unheard of, according to local wore. 

It took 4 hours to walk .81 miles home.  As in less than a mile.  About 12 blocks.  Something I could usually do in a half hour or so. 

On the way home, shopkeepers came out of their shops with a chair or a milk crate for me to sit on to rest.  They could see me coming thru their windows.  One lady looked in her pickup and then went inside her shop and brought out her dad, who gave me his cane from the pickup.   It was a really cool cane too. 

At one point, while sitting alone on a milk crate, watching people walk and walk and walk by me, I was in tears, overwhelmed with how much this still hurts (emotionally), how much I still cannot seem to get used to it, how much I hate it, how much it's taken from me.  How much it still shocks me when it hits.  How much worse it's getting.  And how it never gives me notice. 

I was glad Hank was not with me.  He was busy finding a hostel closer to me.  He is loving San Francisco as much as I do. 

Annie cannot help me with the weakness, and it broke my heart to see how upset she was - she was WORRIED, and it was obvious.  She actually licked my face when I cried - something she does not do to me, and has never done before.

When I reached the lobby to my home, I sat down and burst into tears, out of relief and exhaustion.  There were 2 ladies there, who have never seen me weak.  One was shocked, and the other, whom I've butt heads with before, was the sweetest and nicest I've ever seen her. 

I said it out loud.  "I give up.  I give in."   She said, "It's about time". 

The next day, I took the "handicap van", a service I qualified for months ago and have never taken.  They take me door to door, and the driver is allowed to help me off and on, and they're allowed to carry up to 4 bags for you.  

He took me to the restaurant where the lady gave me the cane.  I returned the cane and had lunch there.  A delicious Reuben Sandwich.  After dropping  a piece of spinach lettuce and watching Annie eat it, I then gave her some more, curious out of my normal ban of never giving her people food, much less directly from the table!  She. LOVED. it.  She ate it all.  I asked what kind of dressing they put on the salad - some sort of fig stuff. 

I then walked a block down to the bookstore where I had picked up a bag of free books the day before, not realizing that I wouldn't be able to carry it home.  (Sometimes, carrying something actually helps ground me).  They held them for me.  I bought 4 or 5 cheap books and then sat outside their shop, in the shade, to wait for the van to pick me up.  It was another wonder of San Francisco.  Late, but nevertheless - a wonder.  I'll have to use them more often. 

Because obviously, being disabled is an expensive endeavor...

To be continued...

Still here at the Airport. Yes, We're Still Trying to Check-In

I last left you with the information that My Laurie was getting angry, and I sensed it, and needed to be a Working Service Animal.  I have to admit it - she's pretty lax on making me work ALL the time.  And we're beginning to trust that we'll be there for each other when needed, despite my goofiness, and her inability to run after mean dogs who are being mean to me in their own little mean ways.  This is one of those times. 

The best way to help My Laurie right now is to Lay Down and Stay.  Staying is the hard part for me, but I can do it when it's needed.  I'm going to keep an ear open too, to see if I can figure out what's going on.






Hmmmm.  He's still not going to let me on the plane.  This is getting serious.

I do so hate it when she's angry.  But I'm proud of her... she's still maintaining.  I think it's My Boy Jeremy who's blowing a gasket.  He's on the phone with My Laurie, and I can hear him from here.  Yelpers, he's loud! 

Hey Mister!  My Boy Jeremy is calling "Bullshit!"  And he gave permission for My Laurie to "go off on you".  Take it from me, Mister, you don't want to see that.  It's not a pretty thing for any of us.  I could tell you about her and a certain bus driver if you'd like.
 

 You better tread carefully, you, you, you Mister Man. 










Or I just might go all Chee Wa Wa crazy on you!

Or maybe I should send my peops after you, Mr. Man!  Yea, that's it!

No, maybe not such a good idea.  Wouldn't want my buds to end up in doggy jail.

 

Better yet, I'll zap him with laser eyes.  

 Or I could give him a black eye... but My Laurie wouldn't "heart" that.  She doesn't condone violence.  

 

Boring Boring Boring Boringgggg

Hmmmm.  I seem to cause her alot of trouble.... .  Wait, I can't think like that.  I HELP her.

 Okay, Mr. Man, why the hell don't you like me?

Maybe if I was perfect enough?  I could try.  I dunnno.... most people fawn all over me.  Makes it hard on her sometimes when she's not feeling good enough to chat.  But she always makes time for the children.  They're my favorite, too.

Wait one minute.  I remember her saying something about not taking things personally!  I could give a rat's ass if he doesn't like me!

Heh heh... My Laurie has a sly sense of humor...

                                    (I guess you had to be there)

Hmmmm

ooops.


To be continued

~