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Author Topic: Sylken Threads  (Read 5223 times)

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Offline SylkTopic starter

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Sylken Threads
« on: May 26, 2011, 12:18:59 PM »
Sylken Threads


Hi There.  For those of you who don't know me, I'm Sylk.  I work as a vet tech in an animal ER.  A great deal of my venting has to do with what happens there, but also with family issues, general life and what not.  While much of what I post might be sad, there are also happy things.  I will tell you though that each and every post is honest.  So, take it for what you will.

My thanks,
Sylk
MISSY
Or how I know now why I do is what I was meant to do

On January 28, 1998 a young man came to us asking that we examine a female Pit Bull he was looking to purchase from the current owners. He told us that she had a skin condition and that he wanted to know how much it would take to “make her right” before he purchased her. So we put the young man in the large exam room with the dog to wait as he filled out his registration forms and so on.

Upon entering the room some minutes later, I was struck with the intense odor that was coming from this poor dog. There are several odors a person who works with companion animals never forgets once experiencing them. One is the odor of  a dog suffering from Canine Parvovirus Enteritis (parvo).  That is the smell of rotting fless… such as bad hamburger coupled with the smell of fecal matter and other assorted nasties.  The other is something I call the “skin smell”.  It is the odor of infected and rotting flesh on the outside of the body of an animal. Usually this is caused by secondary staph and bacterial infections brought on by something else.  THIS is the smell that hit me.

There on the floor of the exam room, as I entered, wanting nothing more than to be loved and wanted, stood Missy.  A tan and white American Pit Bull with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.  Friendly as could be, she wobbled over to me and sat down with those wonderful eyes staring up at me as if to say, “hello, will you love me?”  I wanted to cry and scoop her up in my arms all at once.

This poor, beautiful, suffering dog was covered head to tail with sores. Open, weeping and bleeding in many places, and in fewer-scabbed over but weepy still.  There was almost no fur on her body save her immediate face. It was the most horrid skin case I had ever witnessed.  The amount of time she had been left alone and untreated for the primary cause of this plight had to be extensive. Several months to at year probably. Most likely, Missy had contracted Demodectic Mange as a new puppy and it had been left untreated all this time.  What sat at my feet before me this day was the result.  Holding back tears I could do nothing but love her. Though her condition was so ugly that it hurt to look at, Missy was a beautiful dog. On top of all this, Missy was also terribly thin. More than likely she had internal parasites and poor diet loaded on top of this neglect.  Amazingly, she still wanted people. She still sought love and affection. It was amazing and completely alien to me how any animal could still have that capacity after this kind of life.

To treat Missy, and get her back to reasonable health would cost several hundreds of dollars in medications, medicated baths and special diets. It would be months before she even got her fur back if we treated her.  The young man contemplated this for several minutes.  This young man, with all his kind intentions, did not have that kind of money. Neither did I. Had I the money or the means, I would have taken Missy and treated her here at the clinic.  The young man then stated flatly that he couldn’t take her back to the owners, since he knew they would only tie her back outside in the cold and leave her to die.  He then did the only thing he felt he could do. He asked us to put Missy to sleep.

Of all the things I do in my job, putting an animal down is always the most difficult. I feel some of those for days. This one will haunt me for the rest of my life.  Knowing this poor tortured animal had reached outside its pain and suffering, yet gone beyond her horrible treatment to not hate all humans, made this decision seem so damned unfair.  Many times, when I think about it now, it still seems that way.

I stayed in the room and held Missy as we administered the overdose of barbituates which would release her from this life.  I looked into her beautiful green eyes and told her it would all be okay.  It would soon end and she would not hurt anymore.  Then she slipped into her permanent sleep. As I laid her head down, white-hot fire shot through me. My skin burned so hot I choked back a startled scream. I gripped the exam table to stay upright and closed my eyes.  Then, as fast as it hit, it was gone.  I knew then that this had been the right decision for Missy.  She gave me the gift of releasing me from guilt as we had released her from her horror.

When the client left the office, he’d asked that we take care of Missy’s body for him.  I had her privately cremated and her ashes returned as the only gift I had to give her.   I still see her in my dreams and in my mind’s eye from time to time. She follows me as a reminder that sometimes, that which makes us feel sorrow, also makes us human.

Being human is the most difficult thing sometimes…….



Offline Mordred

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #1 on: May 26, 2011, 01:57:55 PM »
*gives Sylk a huge hug*

Sometimes I wish I could flip a switch inside. Even a little inner radar to warn when such a moment would be best. And yet, as you say, that which makes us feel makes us human. It's a strange mixture of feeling, which is a wonderful thing.. and those harsh times when those very special parts of our minds seem to flood the entire self with excruciating pain. I sometimes wonder if I worked in an area that emotions come into play, would I become hardened.. thinking I'd want to.. yet now I'm not so sure.

Not that I am human.. *grins*.. but I remember.

Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #2 on: May 26, 2011, 02:06:50 PM »
I have been doing this for 15 years.  I have had as many as 9 animals in my home and as few as 1.  I have fostered, taken in, and put down enough of my own in that time that I can tell you while there is a certain amount of learned emotional detachment, it doesn't get easier.  I still cry when I put down an animal, even a stray. I still sing to them as they slip from this world. I made a promise to myself a very long time ago that if what I did ever became easy, unemotional, too commonplace or I couldn't cry for those I couldn't help, it was time to seek something else.  I stand by that.

If I don't do what I do, who will?  Who will speak for those who cannot speak for themselves?  Who will be bitten, chewed up like a steak, undergo rabies post exposure vaccines, carry scars for years and suffer nerve damage in the name of the helpless if I do not?

Could you?

Sylk

Offline Mordred

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #3 on: May 26, 2011, 02:53:03 PM »
Yikes, I don't think I could. I haven't dealt much with animals, being allergic to cats and dogs when I was younger. Although when I was little, I had a dachshund (a miniature, black, and adorable).. he was hit by a car about a month after I had him. For years whenever I thought of him, it would make me cry. My only recent experience with pets is a cat who visits on occasion. (also black, a kitten) She is also adorable but has this pesky attraction to my feet. :)

Offline Oreo

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #4 on: May 26, 2011, 10:40:04 PM »
Sylk, that was so touching. At the same time I was filled with unfathomable anger that someone would allow an animal to suffer that much in the first place. Thank you for sharing both the beauty of humanity and the shame of betrayal to our fellow creatures. I think it will be a while before my tears dry. I have always had animals. Mostly strays or feral cats. Our pride of cats now measures seven, but they have good treatment and all the love they deserve.

One of our precious adolescent cats is at the vet this very night. Something managed to catch it by the tail and tore the skin off the last inch, leaving nothing but bone. We are on a limited income and the vet quoted a price that was double what we had on hand. I can't tell you how grateful we were when he said he would do the procedure for what we had. There is still good in this get rich society. Thank you again for sharing your story. *bookmarked*

Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #5 on: May 27, 2011, 12:43:08 PM »
Thank you Oreo.  There are so many more.... which, after reading over last night, I was sobbing.  Some of them have been years ago, like Missy.  Some, I haven't had the time or the inclination to write about.  There isn't a shift that goes by when I don't want to just smack the stupid out of someone for their ignorance or unfathomable ability to not care because it's "just a dog" or "just a cat" or what ever pet it might be. 

Pets are a privilege, not a right. Just as are children.  They should be treated as such.  In my opinion anyway.

And with that.... I move to the post for today....

Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #6 on: May 27, 2011, 01:03:58 PM »
The throw away child

In September or October 7 years ago this coming Fall, my stepson came to live with us.  He is now 18 and graduates with his class tonight.... Barely.   His mother never finished High School.  She married my husband, now her ex, and he had saved himself for marriage.  Not something men typically do these days.  She treated him like garbage every day.  A child of an abusive father, physically, sexually and mentally, she had major issues. She still does. She treats everyone as if she's entitled to everything, should have to do nothing productive in her life and takes affront to having to actually work for a living.  I can't stand her.

The next husband she married is equally physically abusive to both her and the kids.  At age 12, Chris was finally big enough and brave enough to stand up for himself after a belt beating and hit back.  He hit back a lot.  His mother freaked out and called my husband telling him she had to send him to some reticent child boot camp where they break kids because she couldn't handle it.  Without thinking when my husband told me this I said; "oh hell no she's not. He will live here."  We live in a small house.  My youngest was not born yet. We have 2 bedrooms and 1 bath.  We made room.

This woman sent him here with everything he had EXCEPT his bedroom furniture, his tv, vcr or gameboy.  This included clothes he couldn't wear because he had outgrown them a year ago.  A friend went with my husband to pick Chris and his things up.  Just to make sure the situation didn't get ugly.  Our friend is rather an impressively loud and violent man when angered.  We tend not to anger him if at all possible.

So, Chris came to live with us.  AS soon as he was out of the house, his mother rented out his room.  WE still pay her child support for a kid who has not lived with her for almost 7 years, but I wont' even go there right now.  For a full year or more, this woman did not call, write or bother to inquire about her son.  He got in fights, he played the victim. He got suspended so many times I thought he'd be expelled two years in a row. He'd start out the year with A's and plumet to F's by mid term.  We went to parent teacher conferences until I was almost vomiting before each one it made me so upset. WE got Chris a therapist.  I took him 3 times a month for 8 months, then 2 times a month for a year.  It helped some, not a lot, but at least he wasn't picking a fight anymore... we thought.  For nearly two years, there wasn't a day that I didn't pray for my family back.  But Chris was mine now and I would do what I had to do in order to prepare him for the world, live as a decent person and have a real life with love and security he hadn't had before.  If it killed me. 

I started taking antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications.  Finally, the Ex called to ask if Chris could come visit.  He went up for a weekend.  He had to sleep on the floor because they had no where for him to sleep.  I was livid.  I spoke to his therapist about it.  He spoke to Chris after the visit as he had started acting out again.  In the man's opinion, Chris didn't need to go see that woman again unless it was supervised visitation and he offered to sign the request for a judge if we needed it.  He wouldn't tell us why, but when Chris came home with cigarette burns on his arm after another visit, I understood.

Over the years, while I have not been told quite so much that I am not "my real mom", it has been inferred. I treat him with the same love as my natural sons and the rules have not changed here.  The expectations are the same.  Chris can now carry on a conversation with most anyone where he used one word verbalization for everyone before.  He can operate a microwave, toaster oven, make burgers and mac and cheese on his own.  He has played in leaves, learned to shoot archery and find joy in it.  He paints models, plays D&D every other weekend and actually has friends.  We built him his own room in the basement.  It's not grand or large, but it is his space and what we could afford to do.  One year he got me a mother's day card but not his real mom.  I cried.

So, while Chris may have been thrown away by his real mom, another took his place.  This one is still dealing with being thrown into adolescence with a child rather than growing into it.  I am still trying to understand how one can forget to put a book in a book bag with homework when at one's locker between classes and bring it home.  I am still trying to wrap my brain around how to get through to someone who honestly probably didn't care to live or die when he first arrived.  Now, said real mom wishes to usurp his graduation night by taking him somewhere before the ceremony.  I put my foot down here.  Sorry hon, but *I* am his mom now. You threw him away.  We will spend tonight as a family, proud to watch him walk across the stage for 15 seconds and get his diploma. Proud to see he has made it this far with so much farther to go and wonder how we will ever prepare him.  OUR family.  He belongs here now.

Sylk
« Last Edit: May 27, 2011, 01:08:20 PM by Sylk »

Offline Oniya

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #7 on: May 27, 2011, 01:31:46 PM »
Yes.  Yes, he does.  Mr. Oniya also lived with a step-father for a large part of his life - even after both of them have passed, he refers to his blood-parent as 'my father' and his mother's second husband as 'Dad'.

Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #8 on: May 28, 2011, 08:32:23 AM »
dogs and cats and pets, oh MY!

I work as a Veterinary Technician and have for about 15 years now. I love what I do.  I started in day practice and eventually moved to an animal ER where I live.  The hours are long, unusual and the pay isn't all that great but better than some. I have been proud to have as many as 5 cats, 5 parrots, 2 dogs in my home. Currently the count is 5 cats, 1 parrot and 1 dog.  Two years ago, after my parent's 50th wedding anniversary, I put my 18 year old white Persian cat to sleep.  She had cancer, she'd been getting weak and told me it was time.  I still miss that little bloomer butt.  Her flouncing way of walking away in a pout.  Goddess she was the princess. She would pee on your stuff if she didn't like you.  Never once did she pee on anything of my husband's. Though she peed on my ex's den rug and all his papers he left on the floor.  She peed on my ex-boyfriend's backpack one night.  should have listened to her on both counts.   Three weeks after that my oldest dog was vomiting.  Now, Phantom had a history of eating baby socks and then puking them up later or passing them. So at first I thought it was a sock.  But when it didn't pass, didn't come up, I brought him to work.  We Xrayed him and I was thinking that I'd have to cut him open to get a sock. I was wrong.  Phantom had cancer.  It was everywhere.  It broke my heart to put him down. I had bottle fed him, adopted him out then taken him back in when the first owner couldn't keep him.  He was the best dog ever.  The only thing he chewed up as a puppy was the remote for my tv at the time.  He tried so hard to be a good dog.  He even guarded my apartment when I moved away from my exhusband and that ex started stalking me.  The sad thing is, I don't have that many pictures of him.  I have a few, but not many. Most all of the 'pictures' of Phantom reside in my heart.  So I held him and sung to him as Dr. Paul put him down that night.  I had him cremated. I have had all mine cremated since I lost my first cat while living in New Orleans.  This is the first writing I have done about him since I put him down.  Once in a while, my 8 year old will say... "Mommy, I really miss Phantom."  I miss him too.  More than I could ever have known I might.  Three days after Phantom was gone, my oldest parrot was dead in the bottom of her cage.  She was 16.  It was a very rough Fall.  There will be no more "whatcha DOING?", "Bayou is a pretty birrrrd", or "I'm sorry" echoing in my home.

This morning I am typing this from work. While I am here watching over two patients, there are no doctors.  They are being baby sat mostly in case.  If something were to happen, I can easily call a nearby doctor for here and have them here in 10 minutes, put them on speaker phone and do what ever they need me to do while I wait for them to arrive.  Been doing this long enough that I can tell you sometimes if what I am caring for will leave the hospital.

So as I am at work, a few things occur to me;

Everyone should have a pet first aid kit.  The things inside that kit should include:
digital thermometer
bottle of hydrogen peroxide
turkey baster or boston round like you get at Sally's to dye your hair with.
The numbers for:

ANIMAL POISON CONTROL
     1-888-426-4435


this is run by the ASPCA and exists totally on donations and the fee they charge for their services.  If you have to call them, you will get a case number a doctor's name and a return call back number.  These are important.  Take them, and your pet to the vet. Your regular one during the day or an after hours place if need be.  This way, the veterinary facility will know what to do for your pet, you won't be charged again for the time and services from the poison hotline and your pet will get the best care for the situation.

the second number I know little about.... other than it costs less than the APC number;

Pet Poison Hotline
1-800-213-6680


I don't know what group runs this, but it seems to have a great deal of knowledge as well.

The reason these places cost?    Big pharmaceutical companies don't give them money to operate as they do the human poison control places.  They don't support animal health in the way they do human health, nor do they actually seem to give a crap about pets.  So if you have to use either of the numbers, keep this in mind. They have ridiculous amounts of data at their disposal from the touch of a fingertip. They have multiple doctors who work the lines and they will fax follow up information if they find it to the vet treating your pet just in case.  We use them a great deal.  I stand by them.

Now, some of you are going to ask why put hydrogen peroxide and a turkey baster in your pet first aid kit?  You can successfully make your pet vomit with those things.  No, I am not kidding and yes, it's safe. I promise, it will come back up.  As long as what your pet has ingested isn't: glass, pins, sharp like bones, bones themselves, bone fragments or something long and skinny enough to get lodged sideways in his throat, puke 'em.  Feed that sucker enough to empty their stomach.  Pick through it with a stick if it's pills or something small to make sure it came up.  Once your pet has the dry heaves, DO NOT give anything to eat or drink for about 4-6 hours.  Their poor little stomachs are in reverse and need time to reset.  After they vomit, depending on what they ate, seek veterinary care immediately.  Some things such as rat poison or medications have residual effects and should be treated for.

Trust me. I dont' know how many times I had to make Phantom vomit for getting into the bathroom trash. (use your imagination here... I won't paint a picture.)  Now, if you are unable to get your pet to vomit after about 15 minutes, OR you are farther away from your vet than an hour's drive.... forego it. Pack up your pet in a crate, put them on a leash, whatever, but get them to the vet NOW.  Don't wait.  Certain toxins are fatal after a certain amount of time.  If you have a question, call a vet, call the poison control hotline, call someone with actual veterinary knowledge. Not the breeder down the road, the lady across the street... call a professional.  Your pet's life just might depend on it.

There are many medications/drugs that are really REALLY bad for pets.  Of that list, and this is by no means complete, they include:

Tylenol
Aspirin
Advil
Aleeve
Peptobismal (now contains acetaminophen or tylenol)
Most anti depressants
Most heart and blood pressure medications (unless prescribed for your pet specifically)
ADHD/ADD medications
Anti psychotics
marijuana
Meth
K2 ('legal marijuana' will flat out kill your pet)
alcohol (some people think it's cute to feed their pet beer and the like)
hydrocodone of any kind
anti-anxiety medications
RAT POISON - MUST be treated even if pet vomits.  signs don't occure until it's too late to help your pet!!

Now.... all this being said, I personally don't care if you do drugs in your home.  I DO CARE if your pet could have gotten into them.  I can't HELP them if I don't know what I'm treating.  So be honest with your vet and their staff.  They are there for your pet, not you.

Chocolate is also toxic to dogs. But... it's a formula.  Certain types of chocolate have more caffeine and theobromide (the drug in chocolate which gives euphoria after eating it.) in it.  The formula goes something like this. X ounces of type of chocolate divided by weight in Kilograms of pet = toxic or not symptoms.  Now if your 85 pound Labrador eats a tray of cupcakes, it will most likely have the runs for a day or so, might be more hyper than normal and crash hard when the sugar runs out.  But if your 3 pound teacup Yorkie ate a whole Hershey's dark chocolate bar.... They are dead if they don't get help ASAP.
If your pet ate chocolate and is already vomiting, it needs to go to the vet now. right now, not after work, after you finish your soup (yes, I was told that once), after your show is over. NOW.  Too much can and will kill your pet.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE    Don't buy your vaccines from a feed store of magazine.  If you have to buy them to save money on the shots, then maybe you should reconsider having a pet you can take care of.  Around here, breeders give the first round. New owners walk away with their new pet thinking they are completely up to date on their shots.  Well, they are... FOR THAT AGE.  puppy shots start at 8 weeks and should be given every 3 weeks thereafter until the pet has had 3 to 4 sets depending on the breed of dog.  Rabies vaccines are given around 16 weeks, and in some states as early as 12 weeks.  NO ONE other than a licensed vet can purchase rabies vaccines and no one other than that vet should administer them.  Cat vaccines start at about 8-10 weeks and they get 2-3 depending.  All cats should be tested for FIV and FELV.  ALL domesticated animals are required by state and federal laws to have a current RABIES vaccine. Even if they never leave the house.  If your pet bites someone and you are unable to prove a current rabies vaccine the health department can and will quarantine your pet for a minimum of 10 days.  In some cases, they will require rabies testing and there is only ONE way to do that.  You will seal your pet's fate in death if you neglect current rabies vaccines.  It's that simple.  Rabies is contagious to any and all mammals.  This means humans.  POST exposure rabies treatment runs in the 20k area for a single person.  As the owner of the biting pet you would be responsible to pay for the person's treatment. 

So, now that my rant/helpful notations are over.... feel free to holler at me.  Just remember, the internet, myself or someone who works for a vet is not a substitute for the veterinarian who spent 8 years in school studying for their DVM.  If it is a concern, it is worth the time and the money to have it checked.  Peace of mind is worth a great deal more than guilt from not doing anything at all....

Peace
Sylk

Offline Chelemar

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #9 on: May 29, 2011, 10:25:30 AM »
Your piece on MISSY
made me cry.

All of our dogs are rescue dogs. 

Our oldest dog, Chach, was an older puppy, abused, shy, afraid of people, the owner was going to put her down... but we took her in.  She is still somewhat shy and takes a bit to warm up to people, but her devotion and love for people shines through her large doe eyes.  Also, when I am ill, she knows it and will lay beside me or beside my bed to keep watch over me.

Our middle dog, Beau, we got him at 3 weeks... his mother stopped nursing and the owner couldn't take care of all of the puppies.  So, it was shifts of every two hours with the baby.  Half pit-bull, I wasn't sure about the breed.  Never having had a pit and knowing they needed their own sort of raising.  He is the smartest, most gentle, lovable boy. And at 3 years old still sleeps with the blankey we kept him rapped in those first few weeks.  He holds it between his front paws and nurses it until he falls asleep. 

Then there is the wild child of the bunch.  Her mother quit nursing at 5 weeks.  The owners too were looking for a foster just to nurse maid.  Yeah, well... a year later.  She's the light of my mum's eyes, though just a little bit of a thing compared to the collie and pit/black lab, we fondly refer to her as kick dog.  Though, that's mostly to hear my mum yell. ;D


Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #10 on: June 01, 2011, 02:54:07 AM »
The Worst Kind of Fear

Our house is roughly a 10 minute walk from the school my son attends.  It actually takes longer to get in the car, drive down, go through the turn around to drop him off than it does to walk there and back.  School lets out at 2:15pm.  My son walks home slowly with his friends, picking up smooth stones, finding caterpillars and balancing on the curb as they walk together.  So he gets home around 2:40 or so.  I slept most of the day today in order to work the overnight shift tonight. I awoke at 2:30, hot, sticky and feeling foggy.  at 3pm my son had not come home yet.  I sent my step son to cruise the circle looking for him.  Nothing.  Frantic, I got dressed as fast as I could, put my hair in a baseball cap, and fairly flew to the car.  I drove the circle, the circle below us, the neighborhoods around the school. Nothing.  In tears and screaming his name I round the hill to the turn for our part of the circle and see him coming out the back door of a classmate's house.  In the most angry voice I have, I tell him to get his pack and get in the car.  we ride the 5 houses to our drive and I pull in.  I am shaking horribly, tears streaming down my face, my son is sobbing because he's in trouble. 

Once in the house, I explain to him that he had scared me terribly.  I am happy he has so many friends and glad they all play together, but he is to come home first so I know where he will be.  It would happen that this kid is the only one my son plays with whose phone number I don't have.   i explained to him as calmly as I was able just what I thought could have happened and how people can trick children into going with them in order to hurt them.  I told him how I would never forgive myself if something happened to him and how I would be lost and sad always.  We talked and cried and he is now grounded for a while. 

For those who don't have children, it's a difficult kind of love to explain.  But as a mom, the most horrible fear I have is someone taking one of my sons and hurting them or keeping them.  I have on very few occasions been so frightened about losing someone I love.  I was blessed to have my sons at ages 39 and 44.  Before them, I had 8 miscarriages.   That kind of loss.... for me would end my world.


Offline Oreo

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #11 on: June 01, 2011, 03:06:46 AM »
I am so glad it turned out okay, Sylk. That kind of terror consumes you. I have been there more than once or twice, wondering where my kids got off to. My youngest was in the habit of taking a nap anywhere he happened to get sleepy. We found him in several unusual places, including inside a circular rack of clothes at the department store. Granted this was back in the 70's when times weren't quite as scary as today, but it still got my heart thinking it was an A-bomb ready to go off.

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #12 on: June 01, 2011, 09:29:18 AM »
I am so glad it turned out okay, Sylk. That kind of terror consumes you. I have been there more than once or twice, wondering where my kids got off to. My youngest was in the habit of taking a nap anywhere he happened to get sleepy. We found him in several unusual places, including inside a circular rack of clothes at the department store. Granted this was back in the 70's when times weren't quite as scary as today, but it still got my heart thinking it was an A-bomb ready to go off.

Hey, those circular racks made the best forts!

I had a similar incident with the little Oni - we'd already had the talk about strangers, but it was a case of not knowing that she'd gone inside a house and which of those friends it was.  After a mild grounding, we came up with a system where she knocks on the basement window to ask us if she can go into
  • 's house.  (The answer is usually yes, unless we've got dinner almost ready, but it's the asking that's important.)

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #13 on: June 09, 2011, 06:58:12 AM »
Week of Unexplained Sadness

This week has been one of unexplained bouts of sadness.  Be that as it may, every time I look in the mirror I want to vomit.  That's really nothing new.  But this week it's been worse.  I can't remember anything.  My brain is muddled, my self esteem what little I actually have, is in the sewer.  Welcome to Menopause... you can have this shit.  I hate it.

I'm not sleeping well.  Stupid little things are frustrating me and I feel like I'm just going to explode for no reason at any given point in the day.  It's been horribly hot and I'm not getting much done around the house either.  I feel like I need a good cry, but I just don't have the energy.

I'm fighting the realization that my now oldest cat is fast becoming weak and feeling badly. Though he won't tell me that just yet. He's still begging for things like chips, but his back legs have lost a great deal of muscle mass.  He's 17 now and I know who waits for him. It's killing me to think about it.  But, I don't want to be that owner who has let a pet suffer too long.  There is such a fine line.  If one of the more sympathetic doctors I work with is on tonight I might take him in for a look.  I don't want to, but I know I have to.  I want to be the one who grants their pet that gift of peace and grace at the end. Not suffering for my sake.  My poor little muffin.....who has always been afraid of everything but me........

Yeah, it's been a bad week.  So if I have said or done something to hurt or upset you, please forgive me.  It's been bad enough I'm not even sure I'd remember what I did or said.

Sylk

Offline elone

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #14 on: June 12, 2011, 12:19:39 AM »
So sorry about your cat, as someone in the vet business you know not to let your friend suffer, no matter how much you want to hold onto him. I went through that with my terrier a few years ago. He was 14 and I had him since he was a pup. He developed cancer in glands in this throat. Went through all kinds of therapies even some experimental trials trying to stop it, but to no avail. He seemed comfortable enough, but it was just a matter of time. We kept in close contact with the vet to monitor him for any distress and know when to make that fateful decision. Like you, I did not want my boy to suffer needlessly for my own desire to keep him with me. I took him for a walk and then held him in my arms and the shot did its work. I still miss him. He has a beautiful spot under a wild cherry tree in a garden I made for him. I often sit on a bench there and talk to him. I know that sounds a bit crazy but I find it comforting.

Hope you are able to find a way to let go, knowing that you have done all humanly possible to ease suffering and show him your love daily.

Hugs for you both

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #15 on: June 12, 2011, 06:25:37 PM »
ugh

So Thursday I was having a horrid day.  My antidepressants are no longer working as they should. I can't remember shit, I get really angry fast, I'm sleeping all the time, my hands, ankles and face are all swollen, I have numbness in my arms and hands from time to time, my vision has changed horribly in the last year, and there are a few other things I won't even go into.  Low and behold I talk to my sister for a while later that night.  Seems these can all be thyroid related.  While I'm not losing clumps of hair or have thinning bald spots on my head, the other symptoms fit quite well in the graph.  I was also borderline hypothyroid at last checkup about a year ago.

My biggest anxieties come from when something is going on with me and I can't find an answer.  I was to have my doctor apt on the 30th of this month, but it had to be moved until July due to my doctor being on vacation for the MONTH. sheeesh. Wish I could do that.  So I'm waiting another 3 weeks to be seen and doing the best I can in dealing with my issues which are creeping up and smacking me from behind in the head. 

Bear with me folks.  I do my level best to not take stuff out on friends and family, but sometimes I have no outside filter.  So if I say something that bothers you, tell me.  It is entirely possible I won't even know I've said it, or that it might have hurt.

My thanks.
Sylk

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #16 on: June 12, 2011, 08:21:15 PM »
The Blanket

When I was a little girl, I had a pink blanket with a satin ribbon all the way around it.  It wasn't huge, but it was big enough to trail behind me as I dragged it along.  I was very attached to it.  When I turned 5 (my birthday is late in the year), my mother decided that since kindergarten wouldn't let me in if I carried a blanket everywhere, she was going to get rid of it for me and I was going to learn a lesson.

This was back in the days when most garbage was paper, tin/aluminum or glass. Very little was plastic or had plastic labels so you could burn your trash in a yard incinerator.

One afternoon, my mother took me, the trash, a pair of scissors and my blanket down to the incinerator.  It was essentially a big metal barrel with holes in the sides that we put our trash in. lit and let burn.  Mother took my blanket and but it in half.  She then tossed that half into the burning trash and made me stand there to watch it as it burned.  The following week, the same ritual ensued.  Little by little the leavings of the blanket were cut in half and burned before my eyes until about a 2X2 inch square remained.  This she pasted in my baby book as a reminder.  It still makes me sad to think about.

I grew attached to other things... stuffed animals especially. I had a favorite scottie dog complete with a little plaid doggie coat.  It disappeared one day.  About a week later I found it in a cabinet my mom didn't think I knew about.  I got it out and hid it in my room.  My mother found it of course and after that it was gone from the house for good.  I'll never understand why she felt I couldn't be allowed to become attached to them.  I still have several of my stuffed animals from my childhood, ones I was very careful not to let mom know I was very attached to.  I don't know what lesson she needed me so desperately to learn.  To me it seems rather cruel.

For this reason, while my boys have entirely too many stuffed animals or toys they are attached to, I put them up only when they are outgrown.  The most precious ones will go in boxes eventually to be saved for them later in life if they still want them. But I can't see myself being that cruel to my boys over things which will run their course eventually......

I say this as my 3 year old has more stuffed animals in his bed than he has room for, my 8 year old still has his 'cuddly' blanket if he's very frightened in a storm.  We all need these things in some form when the world crashes down upon us.  The form matters not.  So until they are ready, they keep what comforts them.  They spend so little time these days as children, I am willing to give them as much as I can of childhood in my own way.

Sylk

Offline Athos

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #17 on: June 13, 2011, 01:08:42 AM »
As I read your post I couldn't help but be reminded of my father. He had some of the same idea that your mother had from what I can gather. I think the idea (from their point of view, not mine) is that being a good parent means making sure your child is strong and who doesn't put stock in (what they believe to be) silly notions of sentimentality and attachment. After all, good things never last right? In the end though, at least in my experience, these kinds of 'cruel to be kind' actions don't make for a stronger person in adulthood. Instead they teach you to mistrust everything and everybody. At least that's how I see it.

Anyway, I'm sending hugs to you my sweet Sylk and lots of love. That's not a great childhood memory to have.

-hugs-

Athos

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #18 on: June 26, 2011, 12:47:13 AM »
Foudn a wonderful artist tonight... and an amazing song....

Christina Perri;  "Jar of Hearts"

Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts Official Video


amazing

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #19 on: July 12, 2011, 04:12:59 PM »
There is a special kind of hell

For people who are cruel to animals, children and the elderly.  Saturday night as I was leaving work after 17 hours, a hound dog came in.  His throat had been slashed on purpose by the owner's neighbor.  The guy had goaded the dog to get up on the fence that seperated them, then bodily hauled the animal up and over to slash it's throat. Then he went after the neighbors.  All I have to say is what the Frack is up with people these days?  I mean really... REALLY?  who is raising kids now?  Don't they know that people who start out doing horrible things to bugs and animals end up like Jeffry Dhamer?  It's a proven fact.  The guy is in jail under 75thousand dollars bond. cash only.  And since the guy is an addict, with friends only when he's shelling out his dope, he'll likely stay in there.

Then there's the woman locally who was recently acquitted for killing her child willfully.  I look for her to get shanked inside jail and good riddance to her.

There's a kid down the street that my son plays with who is allowed to dress and act like a little thug.  I don't like him. But my son does.  The kid's mother is ok, but his dad is a chauvinistic jackoff and unfortunately, the mother doesn't have enough hupspa to stand up to the dad and raise the kid with any sense of respect for others. I look for him to be in and out of jeuvenile centers around middle school age or a little more.  Yeah, he's that bad. I don't even like it when he's in my house.

I work with animals because really, as I get older, I become less of a people person. *shrug*

Just my opinion and everyone has one.

Sylk

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #20 on: July 12, 2011, 04:26:45 PM »
It's probably saying something that when I googled 'The more I like my dog', I found - not simply the famous quote - but a total of three songs with the same theme.

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/carrieunderwood/moreboysimeet.html
http://www.poemhunter.com/song/i-like-my-dog/
http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/burgess-sonny/more-im-around-some-people-the-more-i-like-my-dog-16915.html


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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #21 on: July 14, 2011, 01:37:54 AM »
Denial - Not just a River in Egypt

Sometimes it's not about how much money something would cost.  Sometimes it's about what is possible no matter what the cost or the resources.  Last night and tonight we had a dog as a patient whose owners are deaf.  They do read lips some, one has hearing aids, but I never asked how much he hears with them, and they sign.  I took 2 years of sign. I did this because my sister and brother in law have a daughter (now 5) who is severely hard of hearing and when she was diagnosed at the age of 2, they refused to think their precious princess was anything but absolutely normal. 

For those of you unfamiliar with deaf culture or Deaf culture (yes, there is a difference), communication from hearing parents to the deaf or hard of hearing child is usually little to none.  Mostly because the parent is in denial, won't or can't be bothered to make the effort to communicate with their less than perfect child... the list is endless.  I decided that I couldn't begin to understand a parent who wouldn't bother to want to communicate with their child so I signed up for ASL classes when I found out about my niece.  I did pretty well as long as I was in classes and had a reason to practice.

Now, I've not used my sign in 2 years. I barely remember what I learned and real live DEAF people who sign faster than most people speak are hard to read the signs of ...... so I failed miserably and we went to writing stuff on paper.

Their Australian Cattle dog is now in DIC.  Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation.  Throwing clots throughout the body within the veins and capillaries.  It's a horrible and painful death to watch.  They are trying a transfusion, but more than likely it won't work.  The owners said it's not a money issue and to try everything.  Unfortunately, it's not about money.  It's not about resources.  It's about what is physically possible for us to fix.  And in this case, Death is going to win.  I hate it.  These folks are so sweet and I have made fast friends with them. I tried to get them to understand that no matter what we do, they might lose him.  They don't want to lose their dog.  I don't want them to lose him either. None of us do.  But it's not about what we want. It's not about how dedicated we are.... and I hate it.  HATE it.  I'm going to get a call sometime later this morning (It's 2:35am EDT now) telling me that he died and would I please text the owners to let them know.  I want to crawl under a rock.  I can't make this one better.  Why is it that the really nice animals with really amazing owners are the ones that suffer and the ones who bite, claw and try to eat you have the meanest pains in the ass as owners... never seem to suffer like the nice ones?

*sighs*
Sylk

Offline Athos

Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #22 on: July 16, 2011, 01:14:59 PM »
That's a tough one :(. I know the feeling of helplessness you get when you know there's nothing more to be done and its a terrible one. I was just thinking that maybe the reason why the nice ones seem to hold on longer is because they are so loved and that gives them the strength to keep fighting where the ones who aren't just give up. It sounds kinda dumb, but I wonder... As always, if you need a friendly ear you know where to find me. :)

-huggles-

Athos

Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #23 on: July 23, 2011, 09:56:42 PM »
"I spent a week there one afternoon"..

My apologies to Harry Chapin for copping his explanation.....

Sunday: I go to the clinic on my night off to pick up a baby Kestrel falcon, see what's wrong with him.  Kestrels do this really odd flop thing when they are young and something they are not familiar with scares them. Like a human, or a car or whatever.  Bird is unharmed, mentally alert and all limbs function normally. So I take him home, feed him and let him go the next day. Second stepson who does NOT live with us comes to stay the week. Making my life that week a living hell.

Tuesday: Husband barely misses being t-boned in the parkinglot of Office Max and then not an hour later, the SAME woman who barely missed him before going forward backs into him in the same parkinglot.  Paint and aggravation damage only to car.  On my way to work I am walking out to the car and I find him squashed dead in the road next to my car in front of the house.  Bawled all the way to work. Still feel it's my fault, like I missed something.

Wednesday:  Take kids to pool Older two sit outside pool like lumps and are encouraged to jump in where it's less hot and they might actually have fun. Oldest bitches me out because the "only reason I came is because I thought you'd be running errands and you needed me to be in charge of the little ones."

Thursday; record heat. Sewed like mad. Made a bunch of garb for Pennsic.  Oldest cat didn't come down for breakfast or dinner and didn't beg. NOT a good sign.

Friday; Thrown under the bus by one of the now new managing doctors at work, didn't sleep. Came home, stayed up talking to a friend who really needed an ear.

Today; Took oldest cat (18 years) to work and had the substitute doctor for the day (who is also my dear friend) put him down while I held him.  Cried the whole time.  Am having him cremated.

Yeah.... It's been a year of a week this week.  So if I've been short with you.... consider the source and move on.
Brownie points to anyone who got the title reference and what song it introduces by Harry Chapin.

Sylk

Offline SylkTopic starter

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Re: Sylken Threads
« Reply #24 on: August 18, 2011, 08:43:38 AM »
once we fix them... then what?

We send them home to suffer the same fate?  Yeah. Sometimes.  It kills me.  Monday night a cat came in with flea anemia. Let me just say that I don't want to know the state of their home if the poor cat is so infested that when you scratch her nose a WALL of fleas moves across her face, eyes, eyeballs, up her nose, into her ears.  GAH.  It was horrible.  We gave her a "Capstar".  It's a pill that will kill the fleas, eggs and larvae on the pet within like 40 minutes and continue to do so for 24 hours.  When they start to die, they get really mobile. They jump off, they fall off, they crawl around on the pet.  It's icky.  We transfused the cat because her Hemoglobin was 5 and her PCV was 9.  Normals are like 18 and 40 respectively.  She did well.  I *ITCHED* all night.  I can handle many things at work but that many fleas will must make my skin crawl incessantly.

So when I got home, I stripped, put all my stuff in a garbage bag and sealed it up, then jumped in the shower to use flea and tick shampoo all over me.  It was THAT bad.  Most of that is psychosomatic for me, but it made me feel better. The stuff makes my hair feel like straw though so I'll have to condition it today heavily and it will all be good.

My problem with fixing an animal like that is not that it's expensive, time consuming or hard on the animal... It's all those things yes, but worth it if it works. My problem is... That cat is going to go home to a place that made it that way to begin with because the owner looked at the doctor like a stump when she told them they needed to treat the house and all the other animals before they took that cat back home. They needed to take her to her regular vet for the day while they treated the house and the other animals.  It's not brain surgery, but then again, they missed the WALL of fleas everytime you touched the cat.  *squick* 

Poor little thing. Very sweet cat too. I hope they do right by her at her home, or she'll just suffer the same fate she came to see us for.... or worse.