Cowboy here. Our house is full. In addition to Bull, male nurse on duty 24/7, Sar's family is here- Glory, Vi, Max. David dropped by several days ago, plans on staying till God knows when. Folks in/out of the house day and night. Bull's former marine unit mates drop in, stay a few hours, eat whatever my wife puts on the table, can't get rid of them. Neighbors drop by, some bring food, most just eat. I can't hole up in my office, converted that into a bedroom for Bull. Whenever the opportunity arises, I grab the imp, lock the door to our bedroom so I can remind her who I am.
Made the mistake of taking Sar and Glory to the commissary. Should have done that bit of shopping myself. Got to the cookie aisle- I think every brand or species of cookie got tossed into the grocery cart. I counted about 26 kinds, then I stopped counting. About half of the boxes were eaten before we got to the checkout. The cashier raised eyebrows at all the empties he was ringing up. Glory and Sar were sugar high, just about flew home; both were about 2 feet off the ground. Was supposed to take them to the civilian grocery store next. I passed on that idea. At the rate they were eating, they would be in comas by the time we got home. I told them they both bake better stuff. Glory turned to Sar, said doesn't he know we have to eat stuff while we bake? I poured myself a tall one and shut up before the conversation deteriorated further.
Bull is doing well. He stands, takes a few steps, should be running a mile in a few weeks- I hope. His nurse stated the rules for visiting him, feeding him etc. Sar set him straight. Don't know what she said but the guy's a bit intimidated. Funny to watch. Sar trains the man daily pretty much like she trains large unruly dogs-with a firm voice, gives treats when he responds accordingly. Every day I thank my lucky stars I'm bigger than the imp.
The dogs stay close by Bull's bed; apparently he feeds them from his plate. The cat sleeps on his bed, spits at the nurse, makes my bambina laugh. She will sit by Bull's side while he naps; write a bit on her laptop. I read over her shoulder a few days ago. Interesting twist to a story she's been working on. The good thing about her sitting with Bull and writing is that she's resting, something the imp never gets enough of.
Vi has rearranged things in our home, getting ready to go out to the beach to redecorate David's place. In another week or so we'll all go out to his place to enjoy the beach. Sar's due for a medical checkup soon; crossing my fingers we won't have a battle about that.
Cowboy
Monday, July 11, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Stuff
In chronological order: We're HOME! Wonderful trip to Poland - more about that later. Stopped in DC. Picked up Bull! Ate Twinkies all the way to the West Coast and more…
In order of importance: Bull is at our house! Hurray! Cowboy took the yellow ribbons off our front yard trees, raised Old Glory in front of our house, and almost got run over by the neighbors who came to visit our war hero and give heartfelt thanks that he was back with us. I passed out Twinkies to everybody and ate a few of them myself. The giant squid stuffed one in his mouth before he realized what it was…
Did you happen to hear that sonic boom? For a moment, I thought Mount Ranier had erupted. Oh no! It was just the giant squid causing the world to spin out of orbit. Tsk.
We arrived home from DC a few hours before Bull's medic plane arrived at our Naval Air station. A helo brought him in a lot closer to the mainland and a Naval medic ambulance brought him to our house. DomTom, our dominant tomcat leaped on Bull's chest before he made it to the front door and BullyBoy drowned him in slobber as soon as he was settled on a hospital bed we set up for him. Bull's face split into a grin as the animals greeted him. He's all in one piece but not nearly as strong as he says he is. A male nurse with stay with us, assisting his daily needs and remaining here until Bull can walk on his own.
I ordered a whole cow, a dozen chickens and turkeys, fresh wild king salmon and a few other delicacies, cooked and baked most of the next few days, made some of his favorite foods. Of course I teased him unmercifully letting him know I could beat him up if he didn't follow doctor's orders. Bull laughed. Lord help me! I needed to hear that laughter. Bull's mama will be here in a few weeks; she'll spend some time with us. My family will be here in a few days; Max and Vi and Glory are flying in from Mississippi. Glory will fuss like crazy, cook and bake up a storm. Vi will rearrange the entire house, order all the therapists around and lecture the dogs about rubbing up against her. She doesn't like fur on her clothes. Max will play chess with Bull. I taught both of them to play chess and taught both of them how to cheat at it. It should make for some fun games.
David will be back from the other side of the world in a couple of days. He wasn't due in until mid-July but when he heard Glory would be here and cooking…. He arranged for an earlier flight. Nothing like food to make a former Marine happy.
His Holiness will sit back, enjoy the food, chauffeur whoever needs a ride somewhere, and try to keep an eye on me and Vi and Glory. For some reason or other, we seem to draw mischief to ourselves like magic. I don't know why that happens; it just does.
Cowboy also had a birthday first week of June. I made sure he remembered how o-l-d he is and sliced his peach birthday cake for him so he wouldn't have to handle knives…
SWAT!
Tsk.
Needless to say, he wasn't nearly as appreciative of my gesture as I thought he should be. He mumbled something in Italian. I didn't understand any of that but I'm sure it was a bunch of naughty words.
Tsk.
I made sure he enjoyed his birthday as much as possible. For an o-l-d man, he still has what it takes, etc.
People I love are filling the house. It doesn't get better than that.
~Sar~
In order of importance: Bull is at our house! Hurray! Cowboy took the yellow ribbons off our front yard trees, raised Old Glory in front of our house, and almost got run over by the neighbors who came to visit our war hero and give heartfelt thanks that he was back with us. I passed out Twinkies to everybody and ate a few of them myself. The giant squid stuffed one in his mouth before he realized what it was…
Did you happen to hear that sonic boom? For a moment, I thought Mount Ranier had erupted. Oh no! It was just the giant squid causing the world to spin out of orbit. Tsk.
We arrived home from DC a few hours before Bull's medic plane arrived at our Naval Air station. A helo brought him in a lot closer to the mainland and a Naval medic ambulance brought him to our house. DomTom, our dominant tomcat leaped on Bull's chest before he made it to the front door and BullyBoy drowned him in slobber as soon as he was settled on a hospital bed we set up for him. Bull's face split into a grin as the animals greeted him. He's all in one piece but not nearly as strong as he says he is. A male nurse with stay with us, assisting his daily needs and remaining here until Bull can walk on his own.
I ordered a whole cow, a dozen chickens and turkeys, fresh wild king salmon and a few other delicacies, cooked and baked most of the next few days, made some of his favorite foods. Of course I teased him unmercifully letting him know I could beat him up if he didn't follow doctor's orders. Bull laughed. Lord help me! I needed to hear that laughter. Bull's mama will be here in a few weeks; she'll spend some time with us. My family will be here in a few days; Max and Vi and Glory are flying in from Mississippi. Glory will fuss like crazy, cook and bake up a storm. Vi will rearrange the entire house, order all the therapists around and lecture the dogs about rubbing up against her. She doesn't like fur on her clothes. Max will play chess with Bull. I taught both of them to play chess and taught both of them how to cheat at it. It should make for some fun games.
David will be back from the other side of the world in a couple of days. He wasn't due in until mid-July but when he heard Glory would be here and cooking…. He arranged for an earlier flight. Nothing like food to make a former Marine happy.
His Holiness will sit back, enjoy the food, chauffeur whoever needs a ride somewhere, and try to keep an eye on me and Vi and Glory. For some reason or other, we seem to draw mischief to ourselves like magic. I don't know why that happens; it just does.
Cowboy also had a birthday first week of June. I made sure he remembered how o-l-d he is and sliced his peach birthday cake for him so he wouldn't have to handle knives…
SWAT!
Tsk.
Needless to say, he wasn't nearly as appreciative of my gesture as I thought he should be. He mumbled something in Italian. I didn't understand any of that but I'm sure it was a bunch of naughty words.
Tsk.
I made sure he enjoyed his birthday as much as possible. For an o-l-d man, he still has what it takes, etc.
People I love are filling the house. It doesn't get better than that.
~Sar~
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Brief Update
Cowboy here. Tying up loose ends at home; we're off to Poland at the end of the week. Plan to visit Gdansk, Warsaw, Krakow. Got railway tickets to travel between cities, want to see the countryside. Some old friends live in Poland; eager to catch up. Sar's interested in the food of course; hopes to get recipes, reproduce those meals at home. I'm always grateful to watch mia bambina eat a complete meal. Will probably visit Auschwitz memorial; there's history there. A hard stop but in my wife's eyes (and my own) a necessary visit. Families of elderly friends lost their loved ones there; we'll pay our respects. Ukraine borders Poland; not sure we'll make it over the border; it's a possibility.
Plan to connect through DC on our way back. Bull should be ready to fly home with us – a military medic plane. He's showing a great amount of stability now; expresses a desire to drive the imp crazy, enjoy all that cooking. Have no doubt the 2 of them will manage to get into mischief one way or another.
Sar's gallery exhibits across Canada were received well; sold a few pieces. She'll start a number of new ones when we're home for the summer. I expect she'll run herself wild – taking care of Bull, cooking, baking, creating new art. All that will make her happy. When mia bambina is happy, I'm happy.
Most of the Bloodhounds we fostered – still have 2 – are in permanent homes. The dogs will be trained to join search/rescue teams. Right now they're at that floppy stage – feet bigger than the rest of them – tripping over stuff; eat like there's no tomorrow, still chew anything they can sink their teeth into. Cats still hover, groom, smack them upside the head. Makes my wife laugh; I love that laughter so I tolerate a lot of mischief.
Expecting David home mid summer. The retired Marine will spend a bit of time at our house; he likes to eat my wife's cooking, loves to tease her crazy, will help Bull's rehabilitation. Might get a visit from Sar's family; Max and his ladies always spice up the house. If they show up, Sar's friend Alli and family will probably fly in from Chicago. A full house will keep the imp flying high. Will also fill our days - good times, good memories.
Don't want you to think the imp has been a saint lately. Never happen. Hauled her out of a tree a couple of days ago. Found her asleep in the gazebo yesterday; we had a light rain. Didn't want her catching a chill. She complained; I gave her a swat. Heard a few more complaints, curses, threats. Landed another swat; thinking about hiring a food taster.
Cowboy
Plan to connect through DC on our way back. Bull should be ready to fly home with us – a military medic plane. He's showing a great amount of stability now; expresses a desire to drive the imp crazy, enjoy all that cooking. Have no doubt the 2 of them will manage to get into mischief one way or another.
Sar's gallery exhibits across Canada were received well; sold a few pieces. She'll start a number of new ones when we're home for the summer. I expect she'll run herself wild – taking care of Bull, cooking, baking, creating new art. All that will make her happy. When mia bambina is happy, I'm happy.
Most of the Bloodhounds we fostered – still have 2 – are in permanent homes. The dogs will be trained to join search/rescue teams. Right now they're at that floppy stage – feet bigger than the rest of them – tripping over stuff; eat like there's no tomorrow, still chew anything they can sink their teeth into. Cats still hover, groom, smack them upside the head. Makes my wife laugh; I love that laughter so I tolerate a lot of mischief.
Expecting David home mid summer. The retired Marine will spend a bit of time at our house; he likes to eat my wife's cooking, loves to tease her crazy, will help Bull's rehabilitation. Might get a visit from Sar's family; Max and his ladies always spice up the house. If they show up, Sar's friend Alli and family will probably fly in from Chicago. A full house will keep the imp flying high. Will also fill our days - good times, good memories.
Don't want you to think the imp has been a saint lately. Never happen. Hauled her out of a tree a couple of days ago. Found her asleep in the gazebo yesterday; we had a light rain. Didn't want her catching a chill. She complained; I gave her a swat. Heard a few more complaints, curses, threats. Landed another swat; thinking about hiring a food taster.
Cowboy
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Chaos & Joy!
Cowboy here. I know it's been a while since 1 of us checked in. Have had a few ups and downs. Such is life. On the down side, we lost our Rott Tank. He was about 10 years – old for a Rott – continued to mourn his mate Panda that we lost not so long ago. His quality of life remained good. One day he stopped eating; Sar knew right away the end was in sight. She held him all night. He drifted away in her arms. Sar's grief is indescribable. When mia bambina cries, my heart shatters.
Have flown back and forth to DC a few times. Bull remains hospitalized for the time being. His progress is slow but steady. Hope to have him with us by summer. The medics are conditioned to our frequent visits; they stay out of the imp's way whenever possible. Sar comes loaded for bear – also brings a bunch of good stuff to eat – for Bull, the other wounded military, nursing staff, etc. Have had a dozen or more requests from other military to come along when Bull moves back to our place.
Had a chance to go to Italy – Rome. A few officers I served with had a reunion there. Took Sar, had a pleasant trip except… when the Swiss guards escorted the imp out of Vatican City. I didn't want to know why; that innocent look on her face when I picked her up at 1 of the gates… sainthood may not be in her future after all. The likelihood is that she entered a building or some rooms closed to the public. However, I noticed 2 of the guards were munching on Twinkies… no telling what the imp did.
Got home from Italy. Animal rescue asked if we could take a couple of Bloodhounds in for a few weeks – pups. The cats went wild; they're attracted to the long ears, groomed the pups round the clock. House full of yapping dogs running everywhere, cats chasing them, my wife cooking soft foods for them, a bit of chaos for a while. The distraction helped a bit but Sar's grief over losing Tank remains a hard loss. I owe that animal my heartfelt gratitude – a young man jumped our fence 1 afternoon while Sar worked in the yard. Tank cornered that kid, kept him on the ground away from my wife until the police arrived. Panda was alive then; used her body to shield Sar. Miss both of them. No matter how long you have them, it's always a painful loss when they go.
We’ve been in Canada the past few weeks touring provincial galleries where Sar is exhibiting her fiber art. Fills my heart to see her work on display. Home is next though our other Rott and Bullmastiff are with us. On the agenda is a trip to Poland next month, maybe a few other stops in Eastern Europe. Getting the travel bug out of my system for a bit; have to be home in time to welcome Bull. One other note: stopped in London briefly – connected with our young friend Patrick – a teenager now. Hard to believe it's the same boy we met not so many years ago. He stands tall, has a lot more confidence now, turning into a fine young man. Last note for now: for those who've emailed/asked about David. He's in Japan helping out the relief effort there.
Cowboy
Have flown back and forth to DC a few times. Bull remains hospitalized for the time being. His progress is slow but steady. Hope to have him with us by summer. The medics are conditioned to our frequent visits; they stay out of the imp's way whenever possible. Sar comes loaded for bear – also brings a bunch of good stuff to eat – for Bull, the other wounded military, nursing staff, etc. Have had a dozen or more requests from other military to come along when Bull moves back to our place.
Had a chance to go to Italy – Rome. A few officers I served with had a reunion there. Took Sar, had a pleasant trip except… when the Swiss guards escorted the imp out of Vatican City. I didn't want to know why; that innocent look on her face when I picked her up at 1 of the gates… sainthood may not be in her future after all. The likelihood is that she entered a building or some rooms closed to the public. However, I noticed 2 of the guards were munching on Twinkies… no telling what the imp did.
Got home from Italy. Animal rescue asked if we could take a couple of Bloodhounds in for a few weeks – pups. The cats went wild; they're attracted to the long ears, groomed the pups round the clock. House full of yapping dogs running everywhere, cats chasing them, my wife cooking soft foods for them, a bit of chaos for a while. The distraction helped a bit but Sar's grief over losing Tank remains a hard loss. I owe that animal my heartfelt gratitude – a young man jumped our fence 1 afternoon while Sar worked in the yard. Tank cornered that kid, kept him on the ground away from my wife until the police arrived. Panda was alive then; used her body to shield Sar. Miss both of them. No matter how long you have them, it's always a painful loss when they go.
We’ve been in Canada the past few weeks touring provincial galleries where Sar is exhibiting her fiber art. Fills my heart to see her work on display. Home is next though our other Rott and Bullmastiff are with us. On the agenda is a trip to Poland next month, maybe a few other stops in Eastern Europe. Getting the travel bug out of my system for a bit; have to be home in time to welcome Bull. One other note: stopped in London briefly – connected with our young friend Patrick – a teenager now. Hard to believe it's the same boy we met not so many years ago. He stands tall, has a lot more confidence now, turning into a fine young man. Last note for now: for those who've emailed/asked about David. He's in Japan helping out the relief effort there.
Cowboy
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
No Ups
Did you watch the Super Bowl game? Tsk. A bunch of heavily padded very tall 8-year olds tossing a ball and running all over the field while some Neanderthal types piled up on top of a bunch of other heavily padded etc. Good thing I made lots of food so I wasn't bored. I couldn't tell which team was which until Cowboy said the Green Bay Packers' uniform was green and gold. That worked. I've been to lots of cities in Wisconsin – good cheese. Pittsburg is where a character – Kyou – in my story EMMA sent his heart throughout the tale. It's probably one of my favorite stories. Meanwhile, I listened to the announcer announce 1st down, 2nd down, etc. Four downs, no ups. No wonder those guys pummel the beejeebees out of each other. They must have been terribly frustrated by their lack of balance. What's a down without an up? Up/down, day/night, etc.
The Neanderthals… er… sailors and marines Cowboy invited over to watch the game didn't seem at all fazed by all the downs without any ups. I did notice they grab their crotch A LOT when the football players bumped bellies et al in celebration of some move or other. Speaking of crotches… many of the players had towels hanging from their waists to cover their groins. Some of the players who didn't have those towels REALLY needed those towels.
SWAT!
Tsk. I call it as I see it and trust me, I didn't need to see it.
Except for a couple of commercials, I thought most of them were boring and the half-time show absolutely stunk.
SWAT!
Tsk.
On a happier note, it's FEBRUARY! We're February-ing! Cowboy is completely worn out but I cut him some slack – he's old.
SWAT!
Tsk.
We had lots of snow recently. I wanted to make a snow people village but the giant squid said… and I quote: "No villages, imp! Not while I'm in the house!"
Is the man too easy? I told you he was old.
SWAT!
Tsk.
So-o-o-o when Cowboy was OUT OF THE HOUSE to drive to the base to do some of that male bonding stuff with other o-l-d Seals… I got to work and made a cemetery of snow folks – heads coming out of graves, snowmen sitting on top of tombstones, a couple looking like they were sinking into the ground and mouths open screaming for help, a couple of open caskets, etc. Calvin & Hobbes would be SO proud. The neighborhood kids came over and helped. I think their parents were relieved there were no naked/anatomically correct snow folks. Not to worry. I'll do that next time. The giant squid wasn't thrilled with my snow cemetery. He growled that a cemetery is a village of dead people.
Tsk. Semantics. Did I mention he's old? I hope this isn't the beginning of advanced senility.
SWAT!
Double tsk.
In between February-ing, I'm cooking and baking and freezing food for a major event. The event will occur in early March – I hope – and that event is that Bull will be flown into Washington state for rehab! As soon as he's stable, he'll come live with us! The last 6+ months have been downright awful but I'm optimistic Bull will be good as new in no time. My job is to fatten him up, schedule the daily home visits from therapists, etc and keep his spirits up. His Tommy – our DomTom feline – will be his shadow. That'll be good for both of them.
My Rotts are showing their age. Tank is almost 10, old for a Rott. He still mourns the loss of his mate, Panda. So do I. He continues to sleep with her collar, blanket and toys but he's quick to play, eat, run with the other pups. SweetPea is almost 9, still my cuddly teddy bear. BullyBoy is the same age as SweetPea and that's old for a Mastiff. Cowboy says they inherited good genes. Maybe. I think it's all the Cracker Jack, Twinkies and mac & cheese they eat – plus the beer and wine they consume.
SWAT!
Tsk.
~Sar~
The Neanderthals… er… sailors and marines Cowboy invited over to watch the game didn't seem at all fazed by all the downs without any ups. I did notice they grab their crotch A LOT when the football players bumped bellies et al in celebration of some move or other. Speaking of crotches… many of the players had towels hanging from their waists to cover their groins. Some of the players who didn't have those towels REALLY needed those towels.
SWAT!
Tsk. I call it as I see it and trust me, I didn't need to see it.
Except for a couple of commercials, I thought most of them were boring and the half-time show absolutely stunk.
SWAT!
Tsk.
On a happier note, it's FEBRUARY! We're February-ing! Cowboy is completely worn out but I cut him some slack – he's old.
SWAT!
Tsk.
We had lots of snow recently. I wanted to make a snow people village but the giant squid said… and I quote: "No villages, imp! Not while I'm in the house!"
Is the man too easy? I told you he was old.
SWAT!
Tsk.
So-o-o-o when Cowboy was OUT OF THE HOUSE to drive to the base to do some of that male bonding stuff with other o-l-d Seals… I got to work and made a cemetery of snow folks – heads coming out of graves, snowmen sitting on top of tombstones, a couple looking like they were sinking into the ground and mouths open screaming for help, a couple of open caskets, etc. Calvin & Hobbes would be SO proud. The neighborhood kids came over and helped. I think their parents were relieved there were no naked/anatomically correct snow folks. Not to worry. I'll do that next time. The giant squid wasn't thrilled with my snow cemetery. He growled that a cemetery is a village of dead people.
Tsk. Semantics. Did I mention he's old? I hope this isn't the beginning of advanced senility.
SWAT!
Double tsk.
In between February-ing, I'm cooking and baking and freezing food for a major event. The event will occur in early March – I hope – and that event is that Bull will be flown into Washington state for rehab! As soon as he's stable, he'll come live with us! The last 6+ months have been downright awful but I'm optimistic Bull will be good as new in no time. My job is to fatten him up, schedule the daily home visits from therapists, etc and keep his spirits up. His Tommy – our DomTom feline – will be his shadow. That'll be good for both of them.
My Rotts are showing their age. Tank is almost 10, old for a Rott. He still mourns the loss of his mate, Panda. So do I. He continues to sleep with her collar, blanket and toys but he's quick to play, eat, run with the other pups. SweetPea is almost 9, still my cuddly teddy bear. BullyBoy is the same age as SweetPea and that's old for a Mastiff. Cowboy says they inherited good genes. Maybe. I think it's all the Cracker Jack, Twinkies and mac & cheese they eat – plus the beer and wine they consume.
SWAT!
Tsk.
~Sar~
Monday, January 10, 2011
January
Cowboy here. Between my last post and this one, there's been a week of Sar's extra mischief – running amok – the new year, a trip back to DC to visit Bull/his family. Back home there's been more snow than we've had in a few years. Sar didn't just run amok; she ran, leaped, jumped, climbed, jogged, you name it. Both of us enjoyed most of it; a swat here and there after I finally cornered the imp; otherwise, more fun than not. My wife isn't in to brat behavior; her mischief is a bit more sophisticated.
Among other things, the imp ran through the house wearing a T-shirt of mine, nothing else, distracting the hell out of me. I gave chase, wondered why she suddenly stopped on the stairway landing. The little devil said it was only fair to give me a chance to catch up because I was getting too old to catch her fair and square. I reached out to grab her, deliver a swat or two. Before I could do that, the woman stripped, giggled. I lost it. Didn't make it to the bedroom, just did what comes natural right there on the staircase. Can't resist that woman.
Won't go into the rest. Assure you it was a week of much fun, much laughter, much lovin. Warmed her up a few times but when I hear the giggles, pretty much forget everything but my need to grab the imp, love her. Consumed quite a bit of chocolate, wallowed in it, etc.
New Year's was a festive one. Flew to DC to visit Bull, his family, our friend David. Sar cooked/baked a bunch of special dishes for everyone. Stayed in David's condo a few days. While there, the imp rearranged everything in his kitchen, bedroom closet, home office. The man is still calling to yell at her, can't find certain items. Sar swears no memory of the event. For Christmas, she gave the retired marine extra large women's lingerie so he could discover his feminine side. It was pretty funny but if that ever happens to me, the imp won't sit for a week.
Bull is in good spirits, sitting up, a bit clumsy using his hands/arms but all things considered, doing well. A ways to go yet but definite progress. He has titanium inserts in his legs, standing with help. No walking yet but it's in his future. Can do a few personal things unaided, flirts with all the nurses, therapists, ready to go to rehab full-time. The young man's gained a few pounds, looks like a million bucks to our eyes. He told Sar he probably looked like a tractor ran over him. Sar said he was alive. That made him beautiful in her eyes. Did I mention how much I love this woman? Hope to bring the young man to our house in the near future.
Snow here in the Pacific Northwest, expecting to see snow angels soon. Any day now the yard will be covered in anatomically correct snow people. I catch the imp that makes them, that imp's gonna be anatomically warmed up.
Cowboy
Among other things, the imp ran through the house wearing a T-shirt of mine, nothing else, distracting the hell out of me. I gave chase, wondered why she suddenly stopped on the stairway landing. The little devil said it was only fair to give me a chance to catch up because I was getting too old to catch her fair and square. I reached out to grab her, deliver a swat or two. Before I could do that, the woman stripped, giggled. I lost it. Didn't make it to the bedroom, just did what comes natural right there on the staircase. Can't resist that woman.
Won't go into the rest. Assure you it was a week of much fun, much laughter, much lovin. Warmed her up a few times but when I hear the giggles, pretty much forget everything but my need to grab the imp, love her. Consumed quite a bit of chocolate, wallowed in it, etc.
New Year's was a festive one. Flew to DC to visit Bull, his family, our friend David. Sar cooked/baked a bunch of special dishes for everyone. Stayed in David's condo a few days. While there, the imp rearranged everything in his kitchen, bedroom closet, home office. The man is still calling to yell at her, can't find certain items. Sar swears no memory of the event. For Christmas, she gave the retired marine extra large women's lingerie so he could discover his feminine side. It was pretty funny but if that ever happens to me, the imp won't sit for a week.
Bull is in good spirits, sitting up, a bit clumsy using his hands/arms but all things considered, doing well. A ways to go yet but definite progress. He has titanium inserts in his legs, standing with help. No walking yet but it's in his future. Can do a few personal things unaided, flirts with all the nurses, therapists, ready to go to rehab full-time. The young man's gained a few pounds, looks like a million bucks to our eyes. He told Sar he probably looked like a tractor ran over him. Sar said he was alive. That made him beautiful in her eyes. Did I mention how much I love this woman? Hope to bring the young man to our house in the near future.
Snow here in the Pacific Northwest, expecting to see snow angels soon. Any day now the yard will be covered in anatomically correct snow people. I catch the imp that makes them, that imp's gonna be anatomically warmed up.
Cowboy
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Happy Christmas!
Cowboy here. Taking a few moments to reflect. The past year was a series of ups/downs, indescribable joy, deep regret. Like so many other folks – worldwide – my wife and I have folks that are dear to us in war zones. That said, we are blessed that many have come home alive, some with serious injuries but alive.
We are grateful for each one's service.
Joy: Sar and I travelled extensively this past year. The imp says we had to do this while I was still physically capable of getting around. Yeah, she got a swat for that. Contrary to the imp's testament that I am 0-l-d, I still manage to chase her down when the chasing is necessary.
We spent Christmas Eve alone. We try to do this every year; it's a special time for us. I'm happy to report that my 1st gift was my beautiful wife under the tree, wrapped in red ribbon. The unwrapping was as it has always been each Christmas – complete joy.
This morning, a wide-eyed young girl inside the mature sexy body of my wife slid down the banister. No matter how many Christmases we have shared, Sar still approaches Christmas morning the same way she did when she was 10. That was her first real Christmas. As a small reminder of the years she lived on the streets, there's a bowl of hard candy on the coffee table. The look on her face when the imp saw what was under the tree is more Christmas joy than I can describe.
Santa had delivered! Her belief in Santa Claus isn't so much the man as it is the spirit of the season. However—the look currently on the imp's face is one I know only too well. Tomorrow is the 1st day of a few days where more mischief than normal happens. Sar calls it the days in which she can run amok. I call it the days of unbelievably imaginative mischief. I'm certain I will enjoy more than a bit of it if the good Lord gives me strength to get through it. Knowing my wife's penchant for all things naughty, I trust she has convinced a number of you to follow in her footsteps.
Fortunately, Sar also has a penchant for all things sweet. Hopefully the rest of your holiday season will be as sweet as I intend for ours to be.
Happy holidays from both of us to you and yours.
Cowboy
We are grateful for each one's service.
Joy: Sar and I travelled extensively this past year. The imp says we had to do this while I was still physically capable of getting around. Yeah, she got a swat for that. Contrary to the imp's testament that I am 0-l-d, I still manage to chase her down when the chasing is necessary.
We spent Christmas Eve alone. We try to do this every year; it's a special time for us. I'm happy to report that my 1st gift was my beautiful wife under the tree, wrapped in red ribbon. The unwrapping was as it has always been each Christmas – complete joy.
This morning, a wide-eyed young girl inside the mature sexy body of my wife slid down the banister. No matter how many Christmases we have shared, Sar still approaches Christmas morning the same way she did when she was 10. That was her first real Christmas. As a small reminder of the years she lived on the streets, there's a bowl of hard candy on the coffee table. The look on her face when the imp saw what was under the tree is more Christmas joy than I can describe.
Santa had delivered! Her belief in Santa Claus isn't so much the man as it is the spirit of the season. However—the look currently on the imp's face is one I know only too well. Tomorrow is the 1st day of a few days where more mischief than normal happens. Sar calls it the days in which she can run amok. I call it the days of unbelievably imaginative mischief. I'm certain I will enjoy more than a bit of it if the good Lord gives me strength to get through it. Knowing my wife's penchant for all things naughty, I trust she has convinced a number of you to follow in her footsteps.
Fortunately, Sar also has a penchant for all things sweet. Hopefully the rest of your holiday season will be as sweet as I intend for ours to be.
Happy holidays from both of us to you and yours.
Cowboy
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Mr. Grumpy!
When I married the giant squid many years ago, it didn't take me long to realize he was descended from Neanderthal stock. Egads! The real shocker came when I discovered Neanderthals had several personality quirks that no one ever mentioned, mainly… in addition to being spank-happy, Neanderthals pout! I don’t care how much he denies it – Neanderthals pout! They don't pout like cultured ladies pout; they pout like 8-year old boys. They get grumpy. I've lived with Mr. Grumpy for a lot of years. I can attest that his bouts of grumpy pouts are few and far between but when they happen… Get Out of his LINE OF FIRE!
When Mr. Grumpy is grumpy, he grumps about EVERYTHING!
Just because I happened to be cleaning out the hall closet and had to use a ladder to get to the top shelf… where there is a ceiling door to the attic… and there was dust up there… I mean… no one likes to see dust at the top of the closet… so I decided to push that door aside to get the dust out of all the cracks… and guess what! Santa had made an early delivery! Shocked! That was me. Uh huh, shocked.
… and stunned when I was suddenly no longer on top of the ladder in the closet and over Mr. Grumpy's shoulder… He sure can grump at the slightest things! I think he might have needed a glass of wine and maybe, a nap… or two.
SWAT!
Tsk.
I spotted the Rott snoozing in the hallway and yelled "KILL!" but the beast just yawned and went back to snoozing. Why oh why did I ever let that ferocious canine bond with Mr. Grumpy?
Later, I made chocolate pecan pie and after you-know-who ate about half of it, he wanted to know if I made peach cobbler, too. I didn't, so he grumped about that. Maybe two glasses of wine was needed and a very long nap.
SWAT!
Tsk.
Since Mr. Grumpy is so o-l-d…. I thought I'd better remind him that RUN AMOK WEEK is only FIVE days away! I don't want to spring it on him in case he's forgotten…
SWAT!
LOL!
He responded with… you won't believe this… NO MISCHIEF IMP!
Honestly… No mischief and imp in the same sentence just doesn't make any sense to me. Not to you either, right? Tsk. I told you he was o-l-d.
SWAT!
Tsk.
~Sar~
When Mr. Grumpy is grumpy, he grumps about EVERYTHING!
Just because I happened to be cleaning out the hall closet and had to use a ladder to get to the top shelf… where there is a ceiling door to the attic… and there was dust up there… I mean… no one likes to see dust at the top of the closet… so I decided to push that door aside to get the dust out of all the cracks… and guess what! Santa had made an early delivery! Shocked! That was me. Uh huh, shocked.
… and stunned when I was suddenly no longer on top of the ladder in the closet and over Mr. Grumpy's shoulder… He sure can grump at the slightest things! I think he might have needed a glass of wine and maybe, a nap… or two.
SWAT!
Tsk.
I spotted the Rott snoozing in the hallway and yelled "KILL!" but the beast just yawned and went back to snoozing. Why oh why did I ever let that ferocious canine bond with Mr. Grumpy?
Later, I made chocolate pecan pie and after you-know-who ate about half of it, he wanted to know if I made peach cobbler, too. I didn't, so he grumped about that. Maybe two glasses of wine was needed and a very long nap.
SWAT!
Tsk.
Since Mr. Grumpy is so o-l-d…. I thought I'd better remind him that RUN AMOK WEEK is only FIVE days away! I don't want to spring it on him in case he's forgotten…
SWAT!
LOL!
He responded with… you won't believe this… NO MISCHIEF IMP!
Honestly… No mischief and imp in the same sentence just doesn't make any sense to me. Not to you either, right? Tsk. I told you he was o-l-d.
SWAT!
Tsk.
~Sar~
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Checking My Lists
First: That jolly ol fat man in the red suit is supposed to make an appearance in 9 days. I have it on good authority that Mrs. Claus is about to bust her buttons. St. Nick is still studying the global maps and he hasn't begun to pack his sleigh. It seems the world has changed the names of so many countries in the last few years that the giant elf (not to be confused with the giant squid…) is making sure his route is correct so no one on his "nice" list gets a lump of coal instead of socks and underwear. The giant squid told me Santa is giving ME socks and underwear.
I've never had enough socks in my entire life – I go through them much too quickly so socks are ok with me. (Leg warmers for dancing under a full moon are also socks…) As for underwear, for folks like me, underwear = lingerie! I'm good with this.
Next: And "most" important, it's only 11 days until RUN AMOK WEEK! I'd like to go outside and shout HAPPY! HAPPY! JOY! JOY! but that would be redundant. Also, it's very chilly out there right now. We had Arctic winds, snow, sleet and freezing rain in the last day or so. Personally, I was snug and warm and very happy to watch WEATHER happening but you-know-who was grumbling and growling about pee-numonia and bronchitis and fevers, etc. The pups were fascinated by all that growling since they weren't doing it. I reminded them that in order to become a U.S. Naval officer, the giant squid had to take Growling 101 as part of his training.
When he heard this, the giant squid muttered something in Italian so all of us innocents were spared hearing the message. (I need to get a pocket-size English/Italian dictionary.)
The words I hear most frequently these days are: "Better not be planning mischief, imp!"
"Moi?"
SWAT!
Laughing… After all the years we've been together, you'd think Cowboy would know that I don't have to PLAN anything. Mischief just sort of happens. What? You didn't know that either? Tsk.
SWAT!
Still laughing… Back to my list: The stockings are up, the tree is up, the menorah is still lit, cookies in the oven, hot chocolate on the stove, raspberry chocolate mousse in the works, and someone is making cream cheese omelets so I'll eat something that has protein in it.
Tsk. He really is an old-fashioned kind of guy. I was planning to eat tiramisu for breakfast.
I found a bunch of "wrapped goodies" in the attic space above the garage. I just happened to be looking there to see if Cowboy needed to change the mouse traps… I couldn't reach the goodies but I think if I put the ladder on top of a chair and…
A huge vat of chocolate paint arrived yesterday. I plan to use it during RUN AMOK week. I've also stashed a bit of catnip in Cowboy's bedroom slippers. I have a feeling DomTom, Miss Emmy and Pipsqueak will be rubbing all over the giant squid's ankles for days. I think it's good when cats and their humans bond, don't you? Henry, our Canuck cat is above these things. That feline is more interested in the raspberry mousse.
Last, for the record, I'm running out of "goodness." Mischief is really calling my name - actually, it's shouting at me.
~Sar~
I've never had enough socks in my entire life – I go through them much too quickly so socks are ok with me. (Leg warmers for dancing under a full moon are also socks…) As for underwear, for folks like me, underwear = lingerie! I'm good with this.
Next: And "most" important, it's only 11 days until RUN AMOK WEEK! I'd like to go outside and shout HAPPY! HAPPY! JOY! JOY! but that would be redundant. Also, it's very chilly out there right now. We had Arctic winds, snow, sleet and freezing rain in the last day or so. Personally, I was snug and warm and very happy to watch WEATHER happening but you-know-who was grumbling and growling about pee-numonia and bronchitis and fevers, etc. The pups were fascinated by all that growling since they weren't doing it. I reminded them that in order to become a U.S. Naval officer, the giant squid had to take Growling 101 as part of his training.
When he heard this, the giant squid muttered something in Italian so all of us innocents were spared hearing the message. (I need to get a pocket-size English/Italian dictionary.)
The words I hear most frequently these days are: "Better not be planning mischief, imp!"
"Moi?"
SWAT!
Laughing… After all the years we've been together, you'd think Cowboy would know that I don't have to PLAN anything. Mischief just sort of happens. What? You didn't know that either? Tsk.
SWAT!
Still laughing… Back to my list: The stockings are up, the tree is up, the menorah is still lit, cookies in the oven, hot chocolate on the stove, raspberry chocolate mousse in the works, and someone is making cream cheese omelets so I'll eat something that has protein in it.
Tsk. He really is an old-fashioned kind of guy. I was planning to eat tiramisu for breakfast.
I found a bunch of "wrapped goodies" in the attic space above the garage. I just happened to be looking there to see if Cowboy needed to change the mouse traps… I couldn't reach the goodies but I think if I put the ladder on top of a chair and…
A huge vat of chocolate paint arrived yesterday. I plan to use it during RUN AMOK week. I've also stashed a bit of catnip in Cowboy's bedroom slippers. I have a feeling DomTom, Miss Emmy and Pipsqueak will be rubbing all over the giant squid's ankles for days. I think it's good when cats and their humans bond, don't you? Henry, our Canuck cat is above these things. That feline is more interested in the raspberry mousse.
Last, for the record, I'm running out of "goodness." Mischief is really calling my name - actually, it's shouting at me.
~Sar~
Saturday, December 11, 2010
15 Days!
If you've been checking the calendar regularly, you know that Christmas Eve is only 13 days away. That means RUN AMOK Week is only 15 days away! Oh JOY!
People! You need to make your plans early! Don't be caught wondering what to do when Dec. 26 rolls around. Plan now! It's never too early to get those plans in shape. Trust me. I know these things. (Even the giant squid knows these things because he's already growling about it.)
"Better not be planning mischief, imp!"
"Moi?"
SWAT!
Tsk. I think His Holiness could use a nap. (He's o-l-d, you know.)
SWAT!
laughing softly
I decided not to do Christmas cards this year. I usually send them out day after Thanksgiving but life jumped down my throat and I had other distractions to keep me off schedule. So, this year I'll send New Year's cards instead. I've started creating my own cards – fabric cards, quilted, embellished, painted, whatever medium comes to mind. I make some year-round, then write a note to whoever the card is going to. For David, I made a hula dancing lady; on the inside the note says "too bad you can no longer keep up with me." I'm sure he'll appreciate the sentiment; he's getting o-l-d too.
I can't tell you what Cowboy's card says; he has a habit of reading this blog. His short term memory is still working…
SWAT!
Cowboy says I should send a card to all the docs that have to put up with me. That would take a lot of thought. Do I send a blood sample for them to suck up? Do I send a hypodermic and hope they stick themselves? A tray of my "special" brownies? A note that says "be sick and see what it feels like to be on the receiving end?" Maybe, an invitation to be billeted elsewhere? Like Somalia? So many possibilities.
I did send a box of water taffy to the dentist.
I sent an old pair of Cowboy's night vision goggles to the eye doc and a box of shell casings (empty bullets) to one of the drill instructors on the base. I hope that confuses him.
The K-9 team got giant boxes of dog biscuits and a 10-lb bag of dried liver. Animals and I get along better than most other relationships I have. Hmmm… I wonder if that comes from living with a giant squid?
My neighbor, MsHairUpHerAss, also got taffy – she's just had new dentures made.
MsKeptWoman who lives down the block got a really pretty blue teddy. Thinking about buying another in XXXXXL size for a marine I know.
I just can't stand how thoughtful I've been. Will have to make up for all this goodness during RUN AMOK Week.
I sent Santa my last letter for this year. I reminded him I had been good ALL year. I omitted which year I was referring to…
Cowboy said if I combined all the 15-minute stretches of good I've been in all the years we've been together I might have accumulated a couple of months of goodness. Truly, that man needs a nap!
Adding insult to injury, I bet he read my email to Santa! Is nothing sacred in this world?
Cowboy is getting soooooooooo o-l-d I may have to give him a sweater with elbow patches… a walker for when the time comes that he needs one… extra warm socks and slippers with bunny ears. I made peach cobbler the other night and mushed it up so he wouldn't have to chew so hard. Was he appreciative of my thoughtfulness?
SWAT!
Tsk. Did I mention the man needs a nap?
~Sar~
People! You need to make your plans early! Don't be caught wondering what to do when Dec. 26 rolls around. Plan now! It's never too early to get those plans in shape. Trust me. I know these things. (Even the giant squid knows these things because he's already growling about it.)
"Better not be planning mischief, imp!"
"Moi?"
SWAT!
Tsk. I think His Holiness could use a nap. (He's o-l-d, you know.)
SWAT!
laughing softly
I decided not to do Christmas cards this year. I usually send them out day after Thanksgiving but life jumped down my throat and I had other distractions to keep me off schedule. So, this year I'll send New Year's cards instead. I've started creating my own cards – fabric cards, quilted, embellished, painted, whatever medium comes to mind. I make some year-round, then write a note to whoever the card is going to. For David, I made a hula dancing lady; on the inside the note says "too bad you can no longer keep up with me." I'm sure he'll appreciate the sentiment; he's getting o-l-d too.
I can't tell you what Cowboy's card says; he has a habit of reading this blog. His short term memory is still working…
SWAT!
Cowboy says I should send a card to all the docs that have to put up with me. That would take a lot of thought. Do I send a blood sample for them to suck up? Do I send a hypodermic and hope they stick themselves? A tray of my "special" brownies? A note that says "be sick and see what it feels like to be on the receiving end?" Maybe, an invitation to be billeted elsewhere? Like Somalia? So many possibilities.
I did send a box of water taffy to the dentist.
I sent an old pair of Cowboy's night vision goggles to the eye doc and a box of shell casings (empty bullets) to one of the drill instructors on the base. I hope that confuses him.
The K-9 team got giant boxes of dog biscuits and a 10-lb bag of dried liver. Animals and I get along better than most other relationships I have. Hmmm… I wonder if that comes from living with a giant squid?
My neighbor, MsHairUpHerAss, also got taffy – she's just had new dentures made.
MsKeptWoman who lives down the block got a really pretty blue teddy. Thinking about buying another in XXXXXL size for a marine I know.
I just can't stand how thoughtful I've been. Will have to make up for all this goodness during RUN AMOK Week.
I sent Santa my last letter for this year. I reminded him I had been good ALL year. I omitted which year I was referring to…
Cowboy said if I combined all the 15-minute stretches of good I've been in all the years we've been together I might have accumulated a couple of months of goodness. Truly, that man needs a nap!
Adding insult to injury, I bet he read my email to Santa! Is nothing sacred in this world?
Cowboy is getting soooooooooo o-l-d I may have to give him a sweater with elbow patches… a walker for when the time comes that he needs one… extra warm socks and slippers with bunny ears. I made peach cobbler the other night and mushed it up so he wouldn't have to chew so hard. Was he appreciative of my thoughtfulness?
SWAT!
Tsk. Did I mention the man needs a nap?
~Sar~
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Send Help!
Cowboy here. How long have I been married to a naughty birbantella? Sorry, that's redundant. A birbantella implies the imp is naughty. Not just naughty, but capable of black ops stealth, cunning, sneaky, generally successful. A lot of years of wedded bliss for the two of us, a lot of sores, bruises, much worse for the medics that have treated her.
Sar knew there were some medical appointments coming up. Among them, an MRI, other scans, some invasive stuff. Enough going on, the docs suggested an overnight stay, get it all done. Despite the thick file they have on mia bambina, they continue to neglect the basics: mainly, Sar is an escape artist. Won't tolerate unnecessary touching, won't wear a hospital gown, knows every nook/cranny of the local clinic, a whiz kid at jamming computer monitoring, takes advantage of whatever is available to be taken advantage of. Ergo: my escape artist pulled the plug on the computer, hit the security lights on the electrical panel which released locks on the secure doors, climbed out a window, was home eating cake when I finally caught up with her. Not sure the medics realize the imp escaped—again.
Somebody send help.
Announced I was going to burn that little butt. The imp looked up, smiled, offered a glass of peach brandy. Like a rookie, I reached for it; that's when she kicked me.
Mata Hari
Chased her through the house, up the stairs, got to the bedroom, tripped over the mastiff, got the door slammed in my face. Mastiff attacked, pushed me over, drooled on my face.
I need professional help.
Got the dog off, got the door open, faced a large Rottweiler showing off his big teeth. The imp laughed.
Threatened dire retribution. Sar plays dirty. She stripped, jumped my bones. Band tuned up, etc.
A couple of swats, much laughter, another successful medical evasion. Thinking about handcuffing the imp to the bed.
Doc called, wanted to know if Sar was home. I said no. Now I'm a co-conspirator.
Send help.
Cowboy
Sar knew there were some medical appointments coming up. Among them, an MRI, other scans, some invasive stuff. Enough going on, the docs suggested an overnight stay, get it all done. Despite the thick file they have on mia bambina, they continue to neglect the basics: mainly, Sar is an escape artist. Won't tolerate unnecessary touching, won't wear a hospital gown, knows every nook/cranny of the local clinic, a whiz kid at jamming computer monitoring, takes advantage of whatever is available to be taken advantage of. Ergo: my escape artist pulled the plug on the computer, hit the security lights on the electrical panel which released locks on the secure doors, climbed out a window, was home eating cake when I finally caught up with her. Not sure the medics realize the imp escaped—again.
Somebody send help.
Announced I was going to burn that little butt. The imp looked up, smiled, offered a glass of peach brandy. Like a rookie, I reached for it; that's when she kicked me.
Mata Hari
Chased her through the house, up the stairs, got to the bedroom, tripped over the mastiff, got the door slammed in my face. Mastiff attacked, pushed me over, drooled on my face.
I need professional help.
Got the dog off, got the door open, faced a large Rottweiler showing off his big teeth. The imp laughed.
Threatened dire retribution. Sar plays dirty. She stripped, jumped my bones. Band tuned up, etc.
A couple of swats, much laughter, another successful medical evasion. Thinking about handcuffing the imp to the bed.
Doc called, wanted to know if Sar was home. I said no. Now I'm a co-conspirator.
Send help.
Cowboy
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Sleepin' It Off
Cowboy here. About 5 p.m. here. My wife just hit the sack. Had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner, ate nonstop for a couple days. Sar's cooking/baking rate top marks. The imp roasted a turkey, baked a ham, all the fixings, dessert fit for a king. Just a few leftovers. Discovered a pile of little gifts on a chair – guessing that's chocolate from everyone that ate – bribes to be invited back.
Sar ate everything but turkey, the only green item the imp consumed was a key lime pie before we sat down to eat. I made cream cheese omelets for breakfast; Sar ate that, followed by pecan pie, ice cream on top. Today, she washed the dogs, groomed the cats, answered a bit of email, sacked out. The imp's exhausted but catching up on rest so I'm not complaining.
Tomorrow I'll complain. Normal schedule, diet or else. (Someone remind me about the "or else" part.)
That broken wrist didn't slow the imp down as much as I thought it would. I see her rubbing it a bit; she's gonna be rubbing other parts if she's overusing it. Someone remind me what I'm supposed to do to ensure that.
Video conference with Bull in his hospital room. His mother had a spread of food for her boy. Sar wanted to know if possum pie was on the menu. Bull said yes but that he had it sent out our way. I asked the imp what she sent him – it's always a game of one-upman-ship for those two. Sar just arched a brow. Keeping score on that game. Sar matched Bull for consuming pie. Reminded mia bambina he wasn't 100% yet. She teased him a lot anyway. The man said he loved her, still waiting for her to grab those pots/pans, run away with him. The imp said when I got too old to eat peach cobbler, she'd do that. Delivered a swat. They both laughed.
Won't be long before Bull gets some innovative surgery – titanium inserts in his legs. Medics say it makes them good as new. He's up for a few skin grafts on his hands – skin will come from his back. The young man's body is still a bit bruised but his spirits remain high. There are casts on his limbs, some ribald comments written on them, members of his former unit in/out of the hospital room regularly. There's more going on. I'll let Sar fill you in. The imp's writing another piece about her favorite tank-size marine.
Cowboy
Sar ate everything but turkey, the only green item the imp consumed was a key lime pie before we sat down to eat. I made cream cheese omelets for breakfast; Sar ate that, followed by pecan pie, ice cream on top. Today, she washed the dogs, groomed the cats, answered a bit of email, sacked out. The imp's exhausted but catching up on rest so I'm not complaining.
Tomorrow I'll complain. Normal schedule, diet or else. (Someone remind me about the "or else" part.)
That broken wrist didn't slow the imp down as much as I thought it would. I see her rubbing it a bit; she's gonna be rubbing other parts if she's overusing it. Someone remind me what I'm supposed to do to ensure that.
Video conference with Bull in his hospital room. His mother had a spread of food for her boy. Sar wanted to know if possum pie was on the menu. Bull said yes but that he had it sent out our way. I asked the imp what she sent him – it's always a game of one-upman-ship for those two. Sar just arched a brow. Keeping score on that game. Sar matched Bull for consuming pie. Reminded mia bambina he wasn't 100% yet. She teased him a lot anyway. The man said he loved her, still waiting for her to grab those pots/pans, run away with him. The imp said when I got too old to eat peach cobbler, she'd do that. Delivered a swat. They both laughed.
Won't be long before Bull gets some innovative surgery – titanium inserts in his legs. Medics say it makes them good as new. He's up for a few skin grafts on his hands – skin will come from his back. The young man's body is still a bit bruised but his spirits remain high. There are casts on his limbs, some ribald comments written on them, members of his former unit in/out of the hospital room regularly. There's more going on. I'll let Sar fill you in. The imp's writing another piece about her favorite tank-size marine.
Cowboy
Monday, November 15, 2010
Pure Chaos
Cowboy here. Next week is our American holiday, Thanksgiving. For some folks, that's the start of the holiday season. Not for my imp. Sar considers 4th of July the end of 1 year's holiday season, Labor Day the warm up for the next one. Halloween puts my wife into overdrive. She consumes enough chocolate, other sugars to take her through the Thanksgiving preparations. Christmas is a whole other event.
The imp is cooking. The imp is baking. The imp is not eating enough. The imp get little rest.
I've been kicked out of the kitchen, our extra large pups standing guard, growling as I try to get past them to grab my woman. I'm keeping score.
That broken wrist makes things a bit clumsy in the kitchen. Volunteered to help out, got rebuffed. Joan de Arc has to do it all herself. Threatened to burn that little backside if she didn't slow down. Finally got her away from the pups, in bed, didn't have a chance to do squat. Sar fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I let her sleep. Thought about tying the birbantella to the bed – thought about a few other things I could do –- I let her sleep.
We're not going back to DC for Thanksgiving. Arranged to have a video conference in Bull's hospital room. His mother will have a holiday meal prepared for her boy; we'll speak to him via satellite, wish him well. He and Sar can rib each other about eating road kill, who will eat the most apple/pecan pie, other things they tease each other about. This will make both of them happy. Just seeing that young man sitting up, eating whole food, talking, smiling, that will do all of us a world of good. Have I mentioned he's out of intensive care, in a private room, facing a long bout of rehab, some surgery, on the mend. It will be a long haul, slow recovery but recovery just the same. Counting blessings, very thankful blessings.
Having a small crowd over, about 15, smallest crowd we've had in years. My wife is worn out, won't admit it, won't slow down, 15 is plenty. Rethinking tying her to the bed.
Cowboy
The imp is cooking. The imp is baking. The imp is not eating enough. The imp get little rest.
I've been kicked out of the kitchen, our extra large pups standing guard, growling as I try to get past them to grab my woman. I'm keeping score.
That broken wrist makes things a bit clumsy in the kitchen. Volunteered to help out, got rebuffed. Joan de Arc has to do it all herself. Threatened to burn that little backside if she didn't slow down. Finally got her away from the pups, in bed, didn't have a chance to do squat. Sar fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I let her sleep. Thought about tying the birbantella to the bed – thought about a few other things I could do –- I let her sleep.
We're not going back to DC for Thanksgiving. Arranged to have a video conference in Bull's hospital room. His mother will have a holiday meal prepared for her boy; we'll speak to him via satellite, wish him well. He and Sar can rib each other about eating road kill, who will eat the most apple/pecan pie, other things they tease each other about. This will make both of them happy. Just seeing that young man sitting up, eating whole food, talking, smiling, that will do all of us a world of good. Have I mentioned he's out of intensive care, in a private room, facing a long bout of rehab, some surgery, on the mend. It will be a long haul, slow recovery but recovery just the same. Counting blessings, very thankful blessings.
Having a small crowd over, about 15, smallest crowd we've had in years. My wife is worn out, won't admit it, won't slow down, 15 is plenty. Rethinking tying her to the bed.
Cowboy
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Saving the World
Cowboy here. Have I ever mentioned that my wife could be teaching at the U.S. Naval War College? The imp is a pro at stealth, a wizard at making herself invisible, plus she fights dirty. No apologies out of that pretty mouth, no "oops, sorry," just plain fisticuffs.
We were at a local canine obedience trial, brought our pups along. Sar did a demonstration, a little flair on top of the ordinary stuff – sit, stay, down, heel, come front, etc. Our dogs follow verbal commands as well as hand signals. Sar had them heel to her side by scooting backwards instead of going around her, had them dance by balancing a paw on a shoulder, a few other stunts.
There were several professional trainers at the event, all challenged to take an unknown dog, untrained, perhaps unruly, teach it to sit/stay or down/stay. All performed well. After that, the owners were to follow through. One very young dog – a pit bull – didn't do so well. The owner got frustrated, used the leash to smack the dog on top of its head, kept smacking it.
Sar went nuts. Before I could react, my wife ran over to the man, kick boxed him in the chest. He went down, the imp snatched the leash, smacked him on top of his head. She smacked him about 3 times before I was able to grab the birbantella, haul her off the guy. Police came, ticketed the guy for animal abuse, turned the dog over to animal control. The officers took 1 look at Sar, that innocent face in place, had trouble believing the imp could put the man down with 1 swift kick. That's my wife, saving the world one canine at a time.
Got home and discovered Sar's hand was swollen. My frustration bubbled over, admit I lost my cool for a moment. Delivered a hard swat for jumping into a fray that was none of her business. Emergency room, x-rays, 2 fractured bones in her wrist. Promised retribution when the pain wore off. The imp shrugged then kicked me, got behind the rott, dared me to retaliate. Announced that I'd dump her twinkies stash in the garbage. Heard the gun cabinet open. Think we should unleash this sprite on our country's enemies. Sneaked up behind her, hauled her off to bed, made her beg for mercy.
Cowboy
We were at a local canine obedience trial, brought our pups along. Sar did a demonstration, a little flair on top of the ordinary stuff – sit, stay, down, heel, come front, etc. Our dogs follow verbal commands as well as hand signals. Sar had them heel to her side by scooting backwards instead of going around her, had them dance by balancing a paw on a shoulder, a few other stunts.
There were several professional trainers at the event, all challenged to take an unknown dog, untrained, perhaps unruly, teach it to sit/stay or down/stay. All performed well. After that, the owners were to follow through. One very young dog – a pit bull – didn't do so well. The owner got frustrated, used the leash to smack the dog on top of its head, kept smacking it.
Sar went nuts. Before I could react, my wife ran over to the man, kick boxed him in the chest. He went down, the imp snatched the leash, smacked him on top of his head. She smacked him about 3 times before I was able to grab the birbantella, haul her off the guy. Police came, ticketed the guy for animal abuse, turned the dog over to animal control. The officers took 1 look at Sar, that innocent face in place, had trouble believing the imp could put the man down with 1 swift kick. That's my wife, saving the world one canine at a time.
Got home and discovered Sar's hand was swollen. My frustration bubbled over, admit I lost my cool for a moment. Delivered a hard swat for jumping into a fray that was none of her business. Emergency room, x-rays, 2 fractured bones in her wrist. Promised retribution when the pain wore off. The imp shrugged then kicked me, got behind the rott, dared me to retaliate. Announced that I'd dump her twinkies stash in the garbage. Heard the gun cabinet open. Think we should unleash this sprite on our country's enemies. Sneaked up behind her, hauled her off to bed, made her beg for mercy.
Cowboy
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Home!
Cowboy here. Sar and I are home. It's good to be here. I promised my wife we'd get back to Bethesda sometime after Thanksgiving. Will go back sooner if necessary. I'm optimistic the young man is slowly recovering.
Sar didn't want to leave; I understood that. David will remain for the time being; he has a condo nearby, can monitor what's happening. My inexhaustible imp slept the entire 5-hour flight, slept through the drive from the airport home. She woke to greet the animals left behind, had a bit of juice, fell asleep at the table. I carried her to bed, slept through the night. Woke early, demanded supper which she missed, ate a bit of warmed up stew, took a nap, then wondered about missing breakfast. That's Sar exhausted, never admitting it.
Got home Friday night, bought some candy for the kids, they all came around last night. Sar was awake enough to make sure I didn't give any chocolate away. Had to retrieve the stuff the imp stole from the kids, give it back. Ran out of sweets, dug into Sar's twinkie/cracker jack stash. Heard my gun cabinet click open-- decided I gave enough of those away. Did I ever mention Sar has a set of lock picks, knows how to use them?
My little gal has a couple of medical appointments coming up – made them before we left the DC area. Got to check out her abdominal discomfort, a few other concerns.
Brought the cat home, could have left it with David but it goes where Sar goes. All our animals do that, shadowing her everywhere. Grateful we don't own goats.
Glad to be home, glad to have my imp to myself. There's a few long overdue swats in her future. I'll replace the twinkies and cracker jack first.
Cowboy
Sar didn't want to leave; I understood that. David will remain for the time being; he has a condo nearby, can monitor what's happening. My inexhaustible imp slept the entire 5-hour flight, slept through the drive from the airport home. She woke to greet the animals left behind, had a bit of juice, fell asleep at the table. I carried her to bed, slept through the night. Woke early, demanded supper which she missed, ate a bit of warmed up stew, took a nap, then wondered about missing breakfast. That's Sar exhausted, never admitting it.
Got home Friday night, bought some candy for the kids, they all came around last night. Sar was awake enough to make sure I didn't give any chocolate away. Had to retrieve the stuff the imp stole from the kids, give it back. Ran out of sweets, dug into Sar's twinkie/cracker jack stash. Heard my gun cabinet click open-- decided I gave enough of those away. Did I ever mention Sar has a set of lock picks, knows how to use them?
My little gal has a couple of medical appointments coming up – made them before we left the DC area. Got to check out her abdominal discomfort, a few other concerns.
Brought the cat home, could have left it with David but it goes where Sar goes. All our animals do that, shadowing her everywhere. Grateful we don't own goats.
Glad to be home, glad to have my imp to myself. There's a few long overdue swats in her future. I'll replace the twinkies and cracker jack first.
Cowboy
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Hello Sweet People!
Cowboy and I are astounded (and humbled) by all the personal emails, cards and notes we have received regarding Bull. Thank you. Your positive and healing thoughts and prayers have comforted us as well as Bull's mama and family. I'm happy to announce that Bull is awake, coherent, talking, and making food demands. He remains in the intensive care unit for the time being. He has had two surgeries since we've been here, due to have several more. ICU is a bit of insurance to monitor his vitals – anesthesia, recovery, etc. They wheeled in another bed so those of us staying… can sleep more comfortably when we nap.
I continue to make lasagna, apple cake and other food Bull favors. His mama makes spoon bread for her boy and some indescribable concoction that smells suspiciously like road kill but I'm afraid to ask. DomTom has taken up permanent space on Bull's bed, leaving only to use the litter box. The animal helps himself to Bull's food when the medical staff isn't looking. I keep canned tuna and salmon for the feline. This makes it very happy.
Bull isn't out of the woods by a long shot. He has several surgeries ahead of him, months and months of rehab. He hasn't complained of pain, his injuries, or what's ahead of him. It isn't that he's stoic; he's just calm, taking each day as it comes. He has a strong faith in his God and I think that also sustains him. I, on the other hand, believe in encouraging every small step back toward a normal life. If he needs to be yelled at, I'll do that, too.
His former commanding officer has been here several times along with members of his unit. Lots of folks from his little town in Arkansas have also visited. Bull is a hometown hero. Considering his actions on the front lines, he's a national hero as well.
I'm getting a little more rest now that Bull is awake. I think all that excess adrenaline kept me wide-eyed while he was unconscious. Cowboy wants us to go home. I'd like to stay a little longer, be sure Bull doesn't have a relapse. I wouldn't have any problem making Thanksgiving dinner in David's condo, bring it to the hospital to celebrate our many blessings. We'll see.
Personally, I think Cowboy needs some "us" time. I'm just saying…
~Sar~
I continue to make lasagna, apple cake and other food Bull favors. His mama makes spoon bread for her boy and some indescribable concoction that smells suspiciously like road kill but I'm afraid to ask. DomTom has taken up permanent space on Bull's bed, leaving only to use the litter box. The animal helps himself to Bull's food when the medical staff isn't looking. I keep canned tuna and salmon for the feline. This makes it very happy.
Bull isn't out of the woods by a long shot. He has several surgeries ahead of him, months and months of rehab. He hasn't complained of pain, his injuries, or what's ahead of him. It isn't that he's stoic; he's just calm, taking each day as it comes. He has a strong faith in his God and I think that also sustains him. I, on the other hand, believe in encouraging every small step back toward a normal life. If he needs to be yelled at, I'll do that, too.
His former commanding officer has been here several times along with members of his unit. Lots of folks from his little town in Arkansas have also visited. Bull is a hometown hero. Considering his actions on the front lines, he's a national hero as well.
I'm getting a little more rest now that Bull is awake. I think all that excess adrenaline kept me wide-eyed while he was unconscious. Cowboy wants us to go home. I'd like to stay a little longer, be sure Bull doesn't have a relapse. I wouldn't have any problem making Thanksgiving dinner in David's condo, bring it to the hospital to celebrate our many blessings. We'll see.
Personally, I think Cowboy needs some "us" time. I'm just saying…
~Sar~
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
More Good News
Cowboy here. Bull is awake about 50% of the time. Don't know what caused the turn around but will impart a few events. I was on my cell checking up on matters back home. Sar was sitting next to Bull, talking quietly to him. David was here, reading. Suddenly, an alarm sounded in the room, making us all jump. Sar immediately jumped on top of the comatose Bull, on his chest, punched his chest using both fists, the alarm went silent. Medics came running, Bull began to flat line they said. Don't know if my wife brought him back by her actions or the good Lord answered a prayer or 2. We are all grateful regardless.
Sar said she didn't see the flat line beginning; she simply reacted to the sound. Medics said her actions were similar to what they would have done. Probably would have done it with more finesse. Doesn't matter. It worked. Would like to add the birbintella also screamed as loud as she could that he better not die on her… A few things added to his IV lines and Bull's vitals were back to normal.
Later the tomcat – DomTom - crawled under Bull's hospital shirt, its head sticking out at the neck. Bull woke briefly, whispered "Tommy," that's what he calls the cat. In all honesty, have no idea what to make of that.
David and I continue to talk to the man, our words meant to encourage his well being, his future. Sar continues to yell at him, sometimes whispers words we cannot hear. The imp's expression varies – fierce, demanding, other times a tenderness that recalls days of regret/grief we have shared in the past. Bull drifts away now and again, happy to say more awake than not, says a few words, smiles at my imp.
Sar is more tired these days, eats when I put food in front of her. She rallies a bit after a brief rest, insists on staying close to Bull. From previous experiences, it is of no use to try forcing her away to rest. I hold her until she nods off; for now it is enough.
I humbly ask for your continued prayers for all our military, veterans, wounded, those on active duty. Sar joins me in thanking you for those prayers and good wishes for our own as well as those across the world fighting to give others freedom.
Cowboy
Sar said she didn't see the flat line beginning; she simply reacted to the sound. Medics said her actions were similar to what they would have done. Probably would have done it with more finesse. Doesn't matter. It worked. Would like to add the birbintella also screamed as loud as she could that he better not die on her… A few things added to his IV lines and Bull's vitals were back to normal.
Later the tomcat – DomTom - crawled under Bull's hospital shirt, its head sticking out at the neck. Bull woke briefly, whispered "Tommy," that's what he calls the cat. In all honesty, have no idea what to make of that.
David and I continue to talk to the man, our words meant to encourage his well being, his future. Sar continues to yell at him, sometimes whispers words we cannot hear. The imp's expression varies – fierce, demanding, other times a tenderness that recalls days of regret/grief we have shared in the past. Bull drifts away now and again, happy to say more awake than not, says a few words, smiles at my imp.
Sar is more tired these days, eats when I put food in front of her. She rallies a bit after a brief rest, insists on staying close to Bull. From previous experiences, it is of no use to try forcing her away to rest. I hold her until she nods off; for now it is enough.
I humbly ask for your continued prayers for all our military, veterans, wounded, those on active duty. Sar joins me in thanking you for those prayers and good wishes for our own as well as those across the world fighting to give others freedom.
Cowboy
Thursday, October 07, 2010
Hopeful News
Cowboy here. Bull has made some improvements. Once in a while – not too often – he opens his eyes. Not sure this is due to medical intervention or my wife's constant badgering him to wake up. It's a mystery how anyone can sleep while Sar yells recriminations. When the imp runs out of steam, she rests her head near Bull's ear, whispers things I don't hear. Don't know if she's threatening him, cajoling him or making promises. If it's promises, it's food related for certain.
Bull's folks are amazed at the bond shared between those 2. Not me. The man has seen to my wife's safety and welfare when I'm not around. From what I've seen, he loves my imp, a good thing. In return, Sar has committed a total friendship, not something she does for too many folks. I know that love is returned 100-fold. Bull is family.
The cat continues to stay at Bull's side, making feline sounds, head bumping his chin, purring. The medics take its presence in stride, makes me wonder what other strange things happened in ICU suites.
Sar is not getting as much rest as is needed. I have to pry her away from Bull, get her to eat, nap. As each day passes, her strength dwindles a bit, slightly worrisome. While here, I am trying to find a medic brave enough to check her out. The marines outside Bull's room rotate every 4 hours; each comes in to check on Bull when they begin/end their shifts. Sar baked sweets for them, rapidly learned details of their lives, each one already under the imp's spell.
Last night was a good night for all of us. Bull was aware for a few moments, saw Sar, mumbled something, drifted back to wherever his mind is. Sar said he mumbled "apple cake." She kissed his cheek, whispered something to him, fell asleep on my lap. We spent a more restful night at David's condo, back here in the morning.
The medics said Bull's drifting in and out of consciousness is a hopeful sign. I continue to ask the good Lord for assistance; Sar lets the good Lord know she has many higher expectations. Thank you for your prayers, your good wishes.
Cowboy
Bull's folks are amazed at the bond shared between those 2. Not me. The man has seen to my wife's safety and welfare when I'm not around. From what I've seen, he loves my imp, a good thing. In return, Sar has committed a total friendship, not something she does for too many folks. I know that love is returned 100-fold. Bull is family.
The cat continues to stay at Bull's side, making feline sounds, head bumping his chin, purring. The medics take its presence in stride, makes me wonder what other strange things happened in ICU suites.
Sar is not getting as much rest as is needed. I have to pry her away from Bull, get her to eat, nap. As each day passes, her strength dwindles a bit, slightly worrisome. While here, I am trying to find a medic brave enough to check her out. The marines outside Bull's room rotate every 4 hours; each comes in to check on Bull when they begin/end their shifts. Sar baked sweets for them, rapidly learned details of their lives, each one already under the imp's spell.
Last night was a good night for all of us. Bull was aware for a few moments, saw Sar, mumbled something, drifted back to wherever his mind is. Sar said he mumbled "apple cake." She kissed his cheek, whispered something to him, fell asleep on my lap. We spent a more restful night at David's condo, back here in the morning.
The medics said Bull's drifting in and out of consciousness is a hopeful sign. I continue to ask the good Lord for assistance; Sar lets the good Lord know she has many higher expectations. Thank you for your prayers, your good wishes.
Cowboy
Friday, October 01, 2010
Bull Update
Cowboy here. Bull remains in a coma as I write this. Prior to our arrival, the medics told us Bull has been entirely motionless, no response to outside stimuli. They believe his injuries are severe to the point that his mind is blanking, waiting for his body to heal.
Sar didn't buy this. She understands deep pain, has been through that, says a body goes quiet but the brain is still working. When the medics left the room, mia bambina put the tomcat on Bull's chest. The large feline made sounds I've never heard before. Took awhile for it to settle down, then continued to purr as it licked Bull's face, neck, ears. In the course of licking his face, it dislodged the tubes in his nostrils that feed oxygen. Bull's chest rose; he breathed easily on his own. Sar was the only one not surprised.
The cat hissed at the medics who, by the grace of God, didn't say a word about an animal in an ICU suite. A good thing. My wife would have kicked them all to hell; I'd have some serious explaining to do. We take turns staying near him, Sar and I, Bull's mother, sisters, nephews. Members of his unit stand honor guard outside his room, a long Navy/Marine tradition. I always know the minute David arrives; the guards greet him formally.
Modern medicine has never come up against the likes of my imp. She's losing patience. Regardless of their treatment, many IVs, injections, Bull remains in a coma. Yesterday, when they were out of the room, Sar straddled Bull's chest, whispered a few things to the unconscious man, then startled all of us by yelling at him to wake up. Apparently, that wasn't sufficient. Sar loudly accused him of breaking promises, a serious offense in her opinion. Bull moved his arms a bit, nothing too significant but definite movement. His shoulders are heavily bandaged, among his injuries, they had been dislocated and realigned. His head moves a bit to the side. He is agitated. Hospital personnel do not approve of my wife's actions but admit that an agitated man in a coma is a positive sign of brain activity. That is a hopeful thing.
I had a few moments of concern that Sar might be hurting Bull. The medics assured me he is loaded with morphine, doesn't feel pain or physical pressure. I hope that is true. I pulled mia bambina off of the man. Might as well have tried to pry a pit bull's jaws off of its dinner. My warrior woman is tenacious, determined to see Bull's eyes open. I, for one, am grateful Sar does not carry a weapon.
If Bull is going to recover, he will probably do so via modern medicine. I am convinced your prayers and ours also have much to do with this, Sar's yelling at God notwithstanding. He is a strong willed man; I am optimistic he will get through this. Your continued prayers are most welcome. Will try to update again in a few days.
Cowboy
Sar didn't buy this. She understands deep pain, has been through that, says a body goes quiet but the brain is still working. When the medics left the room, mia bambina put the tomcat on Bull's chest. The large feline made sounds I've never heard before. Took awhile for it to settle down, then continued to purr as it licked Bull's face, neck, ears. In the course of licking his face, it dislodged the tubes in his nostrils that feed oxygen. Bull's chest rose; he breathed easily on his own. Sar was the only one not surprised.
The cat hissed at the medics who, by the grace of God, didn't say a word about an animal in an ICU suite. A good thing. My wife would have kicked them all to hell; I'd have some serious explaining to do. We take turns staying near him, Sar and I, Bull's mother, sisters, nephews. Members of his unit stand honor guard outside his room, a long Navy/Marine tradition. I always know the minute David arrives; the guards greet him formally.
Modern medicine has never come up against the likes of my imp. She's losing patience. Regardless of their treatment, many IVs, injections, Bull remains in a coma. Yesterday, when they were out of the room, Sar straddled Bull's chest, whispered a few things to the unconscious man, then startled all of us by yelling at him to wake up. Apparently, that wasn't sufficient. Sar loudly accused him of breaking promises, a serious offense in her opinion. Bull moved his arms a bit, nothing too significant but definite movement. His shoulders are heavily bandaged, among his injuries, they had been dislocated and realigned. His head moves a bit to the side. He is agitated. Hospital personnel do not approve of my wife's actions but admit that an agitated man in a coma is a positive sign of brain activity. That is a hopeful thing.
I had a few moments of concern that Sar might be hurting Bull. The medics assured me he is loaded with morphine, doesn't feel pain or physical pressure. I hope that is true. I pulled mia bambina off of the man. Might as well have tried to pry a pit bull's jaws off of its dinner. My warrior woman is tenacious, determined to see Bull's eyes open. I, for one, am grateful Sar does not carry a weapon.
If Bull is going to recover, he will probably do so via modern medicine. I am convinced your prayers and ours also have much to do with this, Sar's yelling at God notwithstanding. He is a strong willed man; I am optimistic he will get through this. Your continued prayers are most welcome. Will try to update again in a few days.
Cowboy
Monday, September 27, 2010
Prayers
Cowboy here. As I write this, we are at the airfield waiting to fly to the east coast. Our young friend Bull has slipped into a coma. The medics have only said it's a very serious situation. Bull's injuries are extensive; a lesser man would already have succumbed to the inevitable.
This is a time when I expect my wife to lean on me. She will, eventually. For now, the imp is in combat mode. She will stay strong for Bull, for his family. I am always amazed when something occurs that deflates a lesser person. Not my imp. If willpower alone would do it, Bull would be on his feet within moments of her arrival. I say my prayers, ask for divine guidance, divine intervention. Not Sar. I'll hear her yelling at the good Lord for allowing this to happen. She will remind Him that she has never asked for much in her lifetime. Believe me, her childhood had times/events that could have used a little extra help. Sar will never ask for herself but she will ask the Lord to help Bull recover.
My wife has little patience around medics. She demands accurate information, will never entertain vague answers. These are some of the reasons why medics often suffer her wrath. If the answers are obscure or treatment is explained poorly, she'll demand to see medical school transcripts, research on medications, treatments, etc. Once, prior to a surgical procedure, she asked to see a physician's school records before allowing him to touch her. He didn't pass muster so Sar refused to let him near her. Impractical? Perhaps, but having faith in one's doctor has a lot to do to ensure recovery, emergencies excluded.
When Bull arrived at Bethesda Sar and I entered the ICU to be near him. The medics didn't blink an eye. Sar would have caused a ruckus if they had. At the time I didn't know the little devil had arranged for our tomcat to join us in the ICU. Hardly traditional medical protocol. A "healthy" thing to do? Not that I'm aware of. Bull is extraordinarily fond of the big feline; in return the young man is 1 of 3-4 people the cat adores. It tolerate no one else. Sar bribed a couple of young Seals we know. They dressed in "medic" uniforms, carried the beast into the unit. I don't know the intimate details – didn't ask any questions. The visit did wonders for Bull's state of mind.
We're about to board our flight. I can see the cat's whiskers sticking out of Sar's duffel. If that animal can make a difference in Bull's current state, I'll do whatever it takes. His recovery is uppermost in our minds. Sar's peace of mind at doing whatever it takes to help that recovery along is of equal concern. Bull's family is also by his side.
A prayer or 2 from any of you would be a welcome addition to my own in petitioning the good Lord's help.
Cowboy
This is a time when I expect my wife to lean on me. She will, eventually. For now, the imp is in combat mode. She will stay strong for Bull, for his family. I am always amazed when something occurs that deflates a lesser person. Not my imp. If willpower alone would do it, Bull would be on his feet within moments of her arrival. I say my prayers, ask for divine guidance, divine intervention. Not Sar. I'll hear her yelling at the good Lord for allowing this to happen. She will remind Him that she has never asked for much in her lifetime. Believe me, her childhood had times/events that could have used a little extra help. Sar will never ask for herself but she will ask the Lord to help Bull recover.
My wife has little patience around medics. She demands accurate information, will never entertain vague answers. These are some of the reasons why medics often suffer her wrath. If the answers are obscure or treatment is explained poorly, she'll demand to see medical school transcripts, research on medications, treatments, etc. Once, prior to a surgical procedure, she asked to see a physician's school records before allowing him to touch her. He didn't pass muster so Sar refused to let him near her. Impractical? Perhaps, but having faith in one's doctor has a lot to do to ensure recovery, emergencies excluded.
When Bull arrived at Bethesda Sar and I entered the ICU to be near him. The medics didn't blink an eye. Sar would have caused a ruckus if they had. At the time I didn't know the little devil had arranged for our tomcat to join us in the ICU. Hardly traditional medical protocol. A "healthy" thing to do? Not that I'm aware of. Bull is extraordinarily fond of the big feline; in return the young man is 1 of 3-4 people the cat adores. It tolerate no one else. Sar bribed a couple of young Seals we know. They dressed in "medic" uniforms, carried the beast into the unit. I don't know the intimate details – didn't ask any questions. The visit did wonders for Bull's state of mind.
We're about to board our flight. I can see the cat's whiskers sticking out of Sar's duffel. If that animal can make a difference in Bull's current state, I'll do whatever it takes. His recovery is uppermost in our minds. Sar's peace of mind at doing whatever it takes to help that recovery along is of equal concern. Bull's family is also by his side.
A prayer or 2 from any of you would be a welcome addition to my own in petitioning the good Lord's help.
Cowboy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)