It's been a busy couple weeks.
First I had to get the burp cloths finished for my friends and their "new" baby. I was going to visit them, and wanted to have the gift ready to give. It took hard work that made my vision blurry, but I got it done. It was wonderful to see my friend and meet her daughter.
I will be honest and say that I haven't been writing at all. I need to, but I just haven't had the time. And at the end of the day, all I want to do is relax with my husband for a little while. If only I could have just two extra hours in each day.
As far as research, I have done a bit in the form of reading. I've discovered the wonders of free Kindle books (great for the financially troubled like me), and I've used this to acquire a small collection in a specific genre that I've been curious about.
I need to get my assignment written before I can work on personal projects, but I will post another short story or excerpt as soon as I get a chance.
An aspiring writer's lessons and dreams in the vast world that is publishing, while dealing with life's trials as a mom.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Writing for the sake of writing. . .
That's what I'm doing right now. I know I haven't been very good at this blogging thing. at first I wanted to write a little bit every weekday, but obviously that goal is a bit lofty for my busy schedule.
I also found that it's hard to come up with material everyday. I could write about what's going on in my life: what accomplishments Bug has achieved, how things are going with my husband's race car, what neurotic behavior my dog is displaying now. . . However, I wanted to keep this about writing and the lessons I'm learning as I begin to traverse the world of publishing. I don't want to fill space with aspects of living my life just to fill space.
That being said, I have set a new goal: I will put forth effort to write every day and blog at least once every week.
I have started reading a book all about "raising your writing career alongside your kids," and have found it truly inspirational so far. It's called Writer Mama by Christina Katz. You can find it here. I'm not very far into it, but it is motivational and encouraging at page 1. One thing I like is that Katz includes writing exercises to help get and keep you going.
Once I've read more into the book, I'll let you know what I've learned.
Other than that, I finally got my Pages app for my AirBook. I am still on the bottom end of the learning curve for it, but so far I think it's great. I'm looking forward to playing with it and learning all that it has to offer. (And I know it has a lot to offer.)
I also found that it's hard to come up with material everyday. I could write about what's going on in my life: what accomplishments Bug has achieved, how things are going with my husband's race car, what neurotic behavior my dog is displaying now. . . However, I wanted to keep this about writing and the lessons I'm learning as I begin to traverse the world of publishing. I don't want to fill space with aspects of living my life just to fill space.
That being said, I have set a new goal: I will put forth effort to write every day and blog at least once every week.
I have started reading a book all about "raising your writing career alongside your kids," and have found it truly inspirational so far. It's called Writer Mama by Christina Katz. You can find it here. I'm not very far into it, but it is motivational and encouraging at page 1. One thing I like is that Katz includes writing exercises to help get and keep you going.
Once I've read more into the book, I'll let you know what I've learned.
Other than that, I finally got my Pages app for my AirBook. I am still on the bottom end of the learning curve for it, but so far I think it's great. I'm looking forward to playing with it and learning all that it has to offer. (And I know it has a lot to offer.)
Monday, January 9, 2012
Darkest Night (part 2)
Time crawled by. Sally and Ron brought some food from their
home, but the stress from watching her chestnut companion suffering as he was had
killed any inkling of an appetite for Janice.
She walked Drifter as
the sky blazed with orange, red and purple from the setting sun. She walked him through the plummeting temperatures
of an early-March dusk and into the night as the stars began to twinkle
overhead in the clear, inky sky.
Janice lost track of
time.
At some point, after
the sky had grown dark, Ron and Sally went home again. They had kids to take care of. But Sally promised to be back soon and said
to call if Dr. Hanson returned.
The light from the open
barn door spilled out into the night, but it didn’t reach Janice and Drifter as
they paced up and down, back and forth.
She wanted to change the monotony of the pacing by walking along the
edge of the field, but she didn’t want to leave the proximity of the barn. What if vet called?
Then Drifter sank to
the ground, his legs curled under him, muzzle resting on the ground.
Janice panicked. She tugged on the lead, trying to coax Drifter
back onto his feet. He lifted his head
and stretched his neck, but refused to get up.
The more she tried to
pull the horse to his feet and met with resistance, the more her panic
grew. After five minutes of getting no
results, she started yelling for help.
Her voice echoed
through the countryside, an agitated cry for help that received no answer. Hot tears streaked her face, frosting over in
the cold night air.
“Please, Drifter! Get up!” she sobbed to him. “Please get up. Please.
We have to keep walking. Please.” Her voice wracked with the hiccups of her
crying as she pleaded with Drifter to hold on, to live.
When her pleas fell
flat, she left Drifter lying in the grass at the side of the drive and ran to
the barn for the cordless phone. She hit
the speed-dial for the vet’s office as she ran back to where Drifter lay puffing
hot breath in the wintry air, head bowed, his eyes closed.
When the receptionist
picked up at the office, Janice quickly explained her situation.
“I’m sorry,” the girl
said, “Dr. Hanson is still on a call. I
can have Dr. Brown call you back when he gets out of his procedure.”
In a flash Janice was
hysterical. “My horse is dying!” she screamed
into the phone. “I need a doctor!”
“Hold on,” the girl
said. The phone clicked, and Janice
stood with silence in her ear.
While she waited, she
dropped to her knees in front of Drifter and hugged his big head. She stroked his ears, begging him to hold on
for her. Telling him he was going to be ok.
The line picked up
again. “This is Dr. Brown,” a strong
male voice said.
“My horse is dying,”
Janice wailed.
“Miss, I need you to
calm down. You can’t help your horse if
you’re hysterical. You need to calm
down.”
Janice took several
deep breaths. “Ok.”
“Now tell me what’s
going on.”
“He laid down, and now
he won’t get up,” she said.
“Ok,” Dr. Brown said,
his voice soothing edges of Janice’s raw nerves. “You’ve been walking him for a long
time. He’s probably just tired. Let him rest.
As long as he doesn’t roll, he’s fine.
If he tries to roll, get him up again.”
Janice sighed and wiped
her tears away. “Ok.”
“Dr. Hanson is on her
way back to the office. After she cleans
up, she’ll be back out. Half-hour at the
most. Ok? Stay calm.”
“Ok. Thank you.”
Janice hung up and took
the handset back to the barn office.
When she returned, she sat on the cold grass beside Drifter and stroked
him. She spoke to him softly. “I love you, big guy,” she cooed. “You’re gonna be ok. You have to be ok. I love you.”
She was still sitting
with him when Sally pulled up. Dr.
Hanson was right behind her.
Janice pulled herself
to her feet and went to talk to the vet, leaving Drifter where he lay. Dr. Hanson met her half-way.
“I’m going to do a TPR
again. Then we’ll go from there,” the
vet told Janice.
They walked back to
Drifter, and working together the three women were able to get the horse to his
feet. Janice led him to the barn so Dr.
Hanson could work in the light.
His heart-rate was up
to ninety beats per minute. His
respiration was about forty breaths per minute, and his temperature was up to
103.5. In short, his condition was
getting worse.
“I’d like to do a belly
tap,” Dr. Hanson told Janice. “I use a
needle to take fluid from the stomach.
It gives me a more accurate idea of what’s going on inside.”
“Do whatever you have
to do,” Janice said.
Dr. Hanson used a long
needle and drew fluid out of Drifter’s stomach.
It was pink and cloudy. She
brought it to show Janice. “There’s
blood in his stomach,” she said. “That
tells me that his small intestine is starting to die. I’m afraid that he’s going to need surgery to
help him. You have two options: Leesburg, or New Bolton.”
Janice listened to Dr.
Hanson realizing that Drifter’s life was now on the line. “Well, I know I want New Bolton,” she
said. Her trainer had said that she
would always take the longer trip to New Bolton because of experiences she’d
had at both facilities.
“Ok. I’ll call up there and talk to a surgeon before
you make your final decision,” Dr. Hanson told her. She picked up the phone and dialed the
surgery center.
After a long discussion
with the surgeon on duty, involving a rundown of Drifter’s symptoms and vital
signs and the initial cost for Janice, Dr. Hanson hung up. She turned to Janice. “Well, Dr. Gabbon agrees that the belly tap
means that Drifter definitely needs surgery.
He said the surgery starts at two-thousand dollars. That is the initial cost of putting Drifter
on the table to open him up and see what’s going on. After they determine what needs to be done,
they will call you and give you the options and costs from that point.”
Staring at the floor,
Janice repeated the words that dashed her hopes on the sharp rocks that were
the reality of financial burdens. “Two-thousand
dollars,” she said. Then she looked Dr.
Hanson in the eyes. “Two-thousand
dollars? Just to open him up?”
“Yes. From there the cost goes up. Dr. Gabbon agrees that the belly tap
indicates Drifter’s small intestine is dying.
As with all surgeries, there are no guarantees, but Drifter’s chances
are less. If you decide to go, we need
to get him on the road as soon as possible.”
She paused, seeming to
think through the situation again. Then
she added, “It’s about a two-hour drive to New Bolton from here. He could sleep in the trailer. However, with his vitals so elevated, you
have to be prepared for the possibility that he won’t make the trip.”
Janice sank into a
chair. “I have to call my mom,” she
said. “She’s the one paying.”
Sally and the vet left
to give her privacy. She picked up the
phone and dialed the long-distance number home.
Her mother picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?” This was not the first
time Janice had called her mother during the day, so she was already prepped for
the call.
“Mom?”
“Janice, what’s going
on? How is Drifter?”
“Not good. He needs surgery. I’d have to take him to New Bolton, at the University
of Pennsylvania.”
“Oh, honey,” her mother
sighed. “Did you get an estimate?”
Janice knew her mother
would pay the bill for anything Drifter needed—within reason. Not for the first time, tears welled and
spilled down her cheeks. Her voice was
defeated as she told her mother what Dr. Hanson had said.
Her mother began
crying, too. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.
You decide what you want to do. I’ll
pay for it.”
But Janice couldn’t
bring herself to say “let’s do the surgery.”
She didn’t want to put her mother in the position of paying such an
astronomical bill with such a slim chance of success. And she didn’t want Drifter to suffer on a
long trip that he might not live through.
Her silent tears became
full-on sobs of despair. “I don’t want
him to suffer, Mom. I don’t want him to
suffer. He might not make the trip. Even if he did, his chances in surgery are
slim. Oh, Mom, I don’t want to lose him!”
“I know, honey. But now you have to decide. I know it’s not easy. It’s never easy, but have to decide what you
think is best for Drifter.”
“I know. I think I know what’s best, but that doesn’t
make it any easier.”
“I know. Nothing will make it easier, Janice.”
“Ok. Thanks, Mom.
I’m going to go talk to the vet.
I’ll call you later.”
“Ok. I love you,” her mother said.
“Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”
“Bye.” Then the phone clicked into silence.
Janice went out into
the barn aisle to find Sally and Dr. Hanson standing with Drifter. When they saw her tear-streaked face, eyes
puffy from crying, they brought Drifter to her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his soft chestnut
fur. The horse turned his head and
nudged her with his nose.
“Do you know what you
want to do?” Dr. Hanson asked.
“Yes.” Janice released her hug and faced the
vet. “If his chances are so slim, I don’t
want him to suffer anymore.” She began
crying again.
“So, you don’t want to
take him to New Bolton.” It was not a
question.
“No. Not if he isn’t going to make it anyway. That’s not fair to him.”
“Ok.” Dr. Hanson placed her hand on Janice’s
arm. “I need you to tell me what to do,
Janice.”
“You want me to say it?”
she cried.
“You have to tell me
what to do. I can’t do anything without
you telling me.” The look of anguish that
faced her pushed her to help Janice say it.
“Do you want me to euthanize Drifter?
Just say yes or no.”
Janice dropped her gaze
to the dirty floor, fresh sobs wracking her body. She nodded her head.
“I need you to say it,
Janice.” When Janice lifted her head,
all she could do was nod again, so Dr. Hanson repeated the question. “Do you want me to put Drifter to sleep peacefully? Take him out of his pain?”
This time she took
Janice’s nod as a yes, knowing that the young woman couldn’t actually say it. “Alright.
You spend some time with him. I’ll
go get everything ready.”
“Can I stay with him?”
Janice asked, finding her voice again. “How
does this work? Will he be lying
down? Can I hold his head in my lap?”
Dr. Hanson looked at
her with sympathy. “I’m sorry, but he’ll
be standing. I can’t have you near him
when I give the injection because he might fall on you. Sometimes things happen, too that aren’t what
an owner wants to see.”
“Oh,” Janice said,
feeling dejected. In his last moments,
she wouldn’t be able to be by Drifter’s side.
The knowledge only deepened the wounds in her shattering heart.
Sally put comforting
hands on her shoulders from behind. “I
know a company that can dispose of his body for you.”
“I want to have him cremated,”
Janice said. On this she was adamant. She didn’t want her beloved friend being
thrown in a pit somewhere unknown. She
also didn’t want him thrown in a crematorium with a bunch of other
animals. “And I want his ashes back,”
she added.
Sally and Dr. Hanson
looked at each other. The vet seemed to
think about it for a moment, then she said, “I can get the numbers of a couple
places that may do a private cremation for you.
That’s at the office, though, so I’ll leave them for you when you come
in. I’ll also get the numbers of a few
places that may haul him for you.”
“Ok. Thank you,” Janice said.
While Dr. Hanson went
to her truck to get ready, Sally stayed with Janice. “I’m really sorry about this,” she said. “You haven’t had him very long, have you?”
“I got him when he was
two,” Janice said. “He just turned nine,
so I’ve had him for seven years.”
“Oh,” Sally was
surprised. “I thought you just got
him. When you told me about the other
barn, I thought that was his first place with you.”
“No. He lived at home for a long time, but I
wanted to bring him up here with me. I
missed him.” Fresh tears stung her eyes
as Janice thought about how she would now miss Drifter for the rest of her
life. “He’s never been sick. Not one day.
Now I’m going to lose him.”
“I’ll give you some
time alone with him,” Sally said. Then
she went into the office.
Janice turned toward
Drifter, pressing her forehead to the white blaze running down his face. She hugged his head, and told him how much
she loved him. Her hands found his fuzzy
ears and massaged them before running through his forelock. Moving to his side, she stroked his strong
neck, combing tangles out of his mane with her fingers. Losing herself to the wrenching pain again,
she wrapped him in a tight hug and sobbed into his fur. He wrapped his head around and hugged her
back for the last time.
Dr. Hanson came
back. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“I think so,” Janice
said in a voice squeaky with her crying.
She turned back to Drifter one last time. “I love you, big guy. I love you so much.” Then she handed the lead to Sally who walked
him outside and around the side of the barn.
Dr. Hanson followed.
After what seemed like
forever, the women came back. Dr. Hanson
told Janice that she could come to the office tomorrow to get the
information. She didn’t have to pay
anything yet, they would send a bill.
Sally asked if she was ok to drive home, or if she needed a ride. But Janice just wanted to be alone.
She cried the entire
ride home. Her life had changed forever,
leaving a gaping hole in her heart that ached like nothing she’d felt
before.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Don't give up on me. . .
I know I've been lacking in my posts since before the holiday, and for that I apologize. Do give up, though. I've been writing, working on Darkest Night, and it's almost finished. As soon as it is, I'll get it up.
I've also had internet issues for a the past few days. Our router is on the fritz, choosing for itself when it wants to send the signal to our devices. Of course, now that I've scheduled Comcast to upgrade our modern with a wireless router, the Linksys has been working. I feel that this is a catch-22 situation: the Linksys is working now, but if I cancel the appointment with Comcast the next day it will quit again.
I'll put forth an effort to be more productive with my blog. Please bare with me. As always, thanks for reading.
I've also had internet issues for a the past few days. Our router is on the fritz, choosing for itself when it wants to send the signal to our devices. Of course, now that I've scheduled Comcast to upgrade our modern with a wireless router, the Linksys has been working. I feel that this is a catch-22 situation: the Linksys is working now, but if I cancel the appointment with Comcast the next day it will quit again.
I'll put forth an effort to be more productive with my blog. Please bare with me. As always, thanks for reading.
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