So after yesterday’s reassuring call from Dr Gray, I relaxed.
And then this morning I checked Alice’s result from IDEXX, expecting it to be in the same ballpark as the one run at Dr Gray’s and….IDEXX says she’s at 6 ng/mL. Since supplementing is recommended at 5 if there’s more than a week to go (we have 2 1/2 weeks to go), it’s a conundrum.
So Monday we’ll do a fasted draw first thing in the morning and I’ll take half to the repro vet and send half to IDEXX.
And IDEXX is rerunning my sample from yesterday to see what’s up.
Alice? She’s fine. She loves that she gets lunch now, she’s snoozing a lot but also always up for a good romp or walkies even though she is now officially Large.
Last weekend I got a phone call I wished I’d never received. My first boyfriend and oldest friend (Earl) texted and asked if we could chat for a minute. I assumed it was bad news about HIS health. His words were the worst: “Are you sitting down? Lisa died of a heart attack two weeks ago”. Lisa, my friend, his lovely wife of many years, had a sudden and massive heart attack as they were on their way out to buy her a mountain bike. He performed CPR until the ambulance arrived, they got her heart started again, but the brain damage was done. After several days in a coma, they donated her organs and let her go (and had the “Grey’s Anatomy” music playing in the OR while they harvested her organs, which she would have found hilarious). She’d just turned 50. She loved dogs and boxing and had just got into cycling.
Lisa’s sister Mimi disappeared in 2008 and was later found murdered. So much tragedy.
You were so funny, I don’t think you ever really knew how funny you were. And you were so much fun. You had a laugh that made people want to laugh along with you, I remember laughing with you about something and you covered your mouth and kept giggling until you almost couldn’t stay sitting up. You were so smart, I don’t think you ever really knew how smart you were, either.
You were so interesting to talk to, you saw things others didn’t see. You were so good at making people feel included and important and welcome. You worked so hard, and you were so very tenacious, especially when something really mattered to you. You had such strength of character.
And you were so generous in so many ways, and the fact that Earl and Sammie honored your generosity even in the depths of their shock and pain, by donating your organs, as you wanted, speaks to the kind of person you were. Your last gifts to this world.
Most people who know me know that I’m not someone who really believes in the supernatural, but I so completely believe that someone is never truly gone as long as someone remembers them. And you will be remembered by so many people, and with so much love, that you won’t ever be truly gone. But I will miss you.
…I got a phone call telling me that my best friend of 26 years was dead, and that the cause was initially thought to be foul play, but after finding a note, is now thought to be suicide. It happened Thursday, and that’s really all I know at this point, his friend who called me said that they’d played last Sunday and he’d seemed if anything unusually cheerful and talkative – had he already decided at that point? Did something happen between then and Thursday? All I can think is that I can’t believe it, and that maybe there was something I shoulda woulda coulda done…but… I hadn’t talked to him in a while, we’d done a bit of phone/email tag but we had always had that kind of relationship, where we could pick it up and put it down, and neither of us were any good at keeping in touch by phone. I saw him last November, and he seemed like himself, although I know he wasn’t happy, and I didn’t think that the last time I saw him was going to be the last time I saw him. He sent me an email with a link to the Myspace page of a band he played in on February 25, and three days later he was gone.
