and then there's this one.

our beloved, geriatric, siamese cat, ella has been giving us a few extra grey hairs lately.
she has also been keeping the veterinary business running smoothly.
her normally meticulous nature has been broken by unlady-like "accidents" in the bed (i.e. our bed...with fancy comforters) and by excessive time in the litter box. the poor lady has been poked, prodded and examined by multiple doctors and we have forced many a half-dissolved pill down her stubborn throat. yet there still is no resolution.
blood work shows the need for an ultrasound and the need for a "clean" urine sample. the latter which apparently necessitates a needle into the bladder (ouch!).
we are hoping it turns out to be something resolvable but appreciate any extra positive energy you can send our way!

seek out the brightness.

most times i write here, i don't really know what will come out. i don't normally sit down with a plan or an outline. i just let what's on the edge of my mind jump off.
that is probably some of the reason i don't post as frequently as some bloggers do. my writing is dependent on the rare convergence of being in front of the laptop, having the time and the clarity to let the simmering thoughts flow into written words.
the last two weeks have flown by in a blur of activity, tasks and planning. while the great majority of it has been fun and positive, it's easy to get stressed by the pace at which things need to be completed. it shouldn't be difficult to keep focused on the positive but sometimes the rush of time is like the tide and before you know it, you're caught up in it and have to fight your way out.
and then sometimes you don't realize the grey shade you are casting on all of your brightness until a single event stops you in your tracks.
two days ago i was stopped in my tracks.
a client of almost eight years passed away. folks who know what i do might think this would be easy or routine, but it's really not. this loss was especially poignant because of the long term relationship she and i developed and her abrupt decline.
over the years i have gotten to know this woman well but when i stepped into that ICU room, she wasn't present. only a small ghost of herself was there. just enough of her to recall to but not enough to connect. her eyes were open and searching. i tried to talk to her. i looked up at her now grown son, on emergency leave from active military duty, and without words we knew each others thoughts. she was leaving us and this is not how she would want to go. in her life and even in her early illness, she was bold and strong. she rode harley-davidsons. she wasn't afraid of single motherhood and took full responsibility without ever complaining. until she was too ill to continue, she worked as an HIV nurse caring for people with the same illness she would eventually contract. when i first met her she would wake up with a beer and drink straight until bedtime. then one day she stopped. just like that. when i suggested support groups she would say to me, "i don't need that. i made up my mind to stop and so i did."
we are all full of so much strength and possibility. we can make what we need. we can set our own pace and create our own environments.
we should try to see this everyday and not just when we are faced with such a tragic juxtaposition that we can no longer ignore our own blessings.
so right now, i will look around and be grateful. i will see the brightness. i will seek it out even through the grey moments.
and i will remember this woman. not as she was in that ICU bed, but as the one who lived the life she wanted and made the best of it.

knee deep.

i am completely engrossed in a commissioned project right now and it is leaving me little spare mental power to put meaningful words together into a post here.
'tis the season to feel overwhelmingly busy and one step behind. try as i might to avoid that trap, it seems that i always find myself digging out and trying to justify down-time.
i suppose i am no different than the rest of us mere mortals, trying to slow time down unrealistically. when things seem to be spinning, hot tea helps and so does turning the television off. (we have a terrible household habit of the television being on even if no one is watching it.) i find that taking the time to prepare a recipe or snap some photographs puts time back on track too.
what ways do you all stay sane this time of year?

diving into the mundane.

it's a gorgeous day; a sunday none the less. sunday's are the only day of the week where it feels completely okay to lounge around.
not that there has been much lounging around going on in this house lately. today we spent some time taking care of the day-to-day essential household upkeep that has been neglected in lieu of escort cards, vendor payments, cake toppers, timeline freak-outs and other wedding logistic shenanigans.
i spent two hours fighting back the weeds that have taken over the garden. the perennials are in need of division but that will have to wait until later. all i could manage was to dead head the whole lot which was more of a dance to avoid the bees. my arch enemy, the neighbors grapevine, continues to slowly destroy our lilac trees and the rotting fence that divides our properties. it seems to grow faster the more i attack it. yet i still engage in the battle.
gardening and diving into it's mundane activities is good for me right now.
it's settling and grounding, if at least for a moment before i jump back into the whirlwind.

the push and pull.

on the porch with the sun beginning to heat the room to a point where it was just starting to become uncomfortable, we saw a butterfly fly by the open screen window drifting from purple coneflower to zinnia and back again. we stopped talking to watch it.

we were talking about the wedding, which is what we seem to always be talking about recently. the details of the two day event have risen from a softly tinkling stream to a whitewater rapid as though we have entered some type of marital monsoon season.

i mentioned that my mind doesn't seem to be working as i normally anticipate. of course, i am still making lists and checking off boxes but there is a constant, frenetic energy that seems to be short circuiting the mechanisms of my mind; especially those that control important functions such as concentration, organization and emotional balance. i said, "i feel like there are hundreds of racquetballs catapulting around in my head".
it's funny how fine a line there is between excitement, anticipation and anxiety.

in one of the seemingly hundreds of emails i sent out in the last few weeks, i wrote about the paradoxical feelings that are always bubbling in me lately. everything is staying the same and yet everything is changing. i want the day to hurry up and get here, yet i wish time would slow down so i can savor the anticipation. we are eager to control the details so that all of our favorite people will be as touched as we surely will be and yet we know that even if we did nothing, the day would be perfect. 

it is just one day, yet it will only happen once in a lifetime.

i find myself searching for mantras; things that can get me through the times where everything seems to be so swiftly spinning. but mostly i need to remember to just breathe and enjoy the ride.

staying grounded.

i seem to have a more difficult time staying centered during the holidays.  lately it's been more challenging due to the planning of significant and transformative future events.
here are some things i always rely on to transport me back to the present moment:

•mugs of piping hot tea
•purring cats
•long walks
•cooking a hearty vegetarian meal
•being consciously still and quiet
•really looking
•taking photographs
•trips to the library
•quiet dinners with adam

what are your strategies for staying present?

dear sabrina...

in the almost six years that i worked with you i was regularly astounded at your survival.  the circumstances and events of your life would have destroyed most people. so many times, i would return from visits to your home or hospital room or doctors and think it was nearly "the end" but you always found something left to power you on. 

despite the tough-bitch-take-no-shit persona you showed to others, your core was compassionate and empathetic.  you loved animals; especially cats.  you were intelligent and acutely observant.  you could spot a phony a mile away.  you were always thinking of and doing for others, often to the detriment of your own needs.  you were witty and sarcastic and i loved it.

you would always apologize for being such a "difficult client" but i never hesitated to point out why you were strong, resiliant and powerful. you were your own harshest critic, going back over every detail of your life and only looking at the wrong turns.  

i know that you were trying to let me know you were dying three months ago but i wasn't seeing it.  i privately thought your death was imminent so many times previously i guess i thought you were invincible.

so today, when i got the call saying that you had passed away it seemed impossible.  and yet, i knew it would happen.  although you had finally gotten sober in the last six months, the damage had already been done.  your body was simultaneously fighting too many chronic battles; HIV, HCV, alcoholism and depression.

i hope you found peace at the end and it wasn't lonely. please know that i am a better person for having known you.  you taught me so much about perseverance, compassion, humility and  self discipline. 

i will miss you,

reneé

rumination.

it seems that my effort to do more artwork and my malaise have had a direct correlation to the amount i post on this blog. it's easier to channel those grey feelings into artwork without boring people. i hope to be able to balance the two better, because what i write here and what i post there are both important.

my mind's current disarray has made it difficult for me to focus on tasks. i find that i am prone to be easily bored. this is not a good combination for blogging as much of this medium relies on an ability to make a story out of simple things. there are a ton of simple things, and interesting things, happening in my sphere of life every day, but i can't seem to pin them down before they blow away.

i am a person who likes to document; to try to make permanent the beautiful, the ugly, the mundane. i want to remember what things felt like. blogging, photography, art: the goal is to capture a moment so that it can be shared with others. truthfully, that sharing not always possible. remembering to live right now, in the present moment, and to simply experience things is so important that worrying about documenting can be a tragic distraction. sometimes a moment, even if it's just the light in the morning and the sound of the birds at the feeder, is meant just for you. it's fleeting and won't last long. if your mind is elsewhere, you'll miss it.

the ability to genuinely experience things, burn them to memory and re-tell the story later is the talent of writers. i have never been a very good writer. maybe my writing never quite touches the resonance of the memory.

perhaps that is just how it is supposed to be.

updates.

we just got back from ella's vet check up. she's gained over a pound in ten days! i guess that's what a little steroids will do...
ella had follow up bloodwork done to see if her high calcium levels have been decreased. we'll get that call tomorrow.
otherwise, vet orders are to reduce the steroids to twice weekly and keep an eye out for "symptoms". the prognosis is difficult...it could be a year before the cause (still likely to be lymphoma) rears it's head. for now, ella is the same old kitty.
crosbi has been fine and we are hoping her seizure episode was isolated to that one peculiar day.
thanks to everyone that has shared their stories and sent me positive energy during this time! it's been invaluable.

emotional circus.

it has been one of those gut twisting, humbling, scary, nervous wreck kind of weeks for me.
all is well with my own self, but my animals (read: children) are not quite so lucky.
it started two weekends ago with our dog, crosbi. we took her out for a doggie day on the town; trip to petsmart and the like. later at home, relaxing on the couch, i noticed odd twitching. i thought it was hiccups, but after closer inspection i could tell it was something else. it was just on one side of her body and she was awake. it could have just been a doggie dream, but instead it was an emergency trip to the vet. by the time we arrived, she was fine. no problems found during the exam. as soon as we got her home, she had another "seizure".
fast forward one week. imagine us getting ready for an overnight visit from two good friends and their dogs. during the preparations i noticed some odd behavior from ella, our siamese cat. she was having trouble using her back legs and seemed...dizzy. i laid on the bathroom floor with her and a heavy sense of dread came over me.
we raced her to the vet. we didn't even call in advance this time. i said i thought she had a stroke and staff came out from the back immediately. they whisked her out of my arms and told us to stay out front. we waited for an eternity (about 10 minutes). a tech told us that ella would need to stay for the afternoon to have blood work done. again, by the time we arrived, ella was acting normally.
am i crazy? do they think we are poisoning our animals?
we left the vet in great distress. both adam and i were certain that the outcome was not going to be good. ella is 12 years old but otherwise in good health. she is fed only premium food and is kept inside. but sometimes, your gut just tells you something. then your head can't shake the idea.
we were told that the vet would call between 1 and 4 PM. tara and mel arrived with their dogs; chester and pele. thank goodness for their visit. i know that their presence kept adam and i on sane ground.
around 3:30 the phone rings-Dr Moger. ella's bloodwork shows high calcium levels which normally indicates lymphoma. racing thoughts and words follow...chemotherapy/steroids/xrays/tumors/expensive/prognosis? we decided to have ella kept overnight to have an xray to look for tumors. we were kept in excellent and compassionate company by our dear friends, but we cried ourselves to sleep that night.
the next day we learn that the xrays show nothing. we take ella home. she is now on steroids. we will return next week for more blood. much googling has ensued to research feline lymphoma and high blood calcium.
ironically, ella and crosbi are "back to normal". i wish i could say the same for myself. my stress level has skyrocketed. i feel like my insides are jittering. i wonder if everyone can tell when they see me...
right now, i am just glad to have the animals here at home. we will take it one day at a time.
and damn if we won't love the shit out of them...
oh, and if you need a vet, i highly recommend the angels at Adirondack Animal Hospital.