I met a friend for lunch today. She is a fairly good friend and she asked how my appointments went yesterday. I told her about how the nurse mistakenly told me my swimmers were OK and how my wife and I thought it was OK to start trying for baby again and her face went pale. Luckily (?) we are not preggers right now, so I don't have to worry about any damage done from my chemo cooked swimmers. But her reaction today showed me that maybe I wasn't over reacting yesterday. It is one thing if God gives you a special needs child, it is another thing to do something that caused your child to be a special needs child. That is why most of us don't smoke, drink, do drugs, bungi jump, work in nuclear power plants, or watch Jersey Shore while pregnant. I can't imagine the amount of guilt I would have had if we had a child that was born facing challenges their whole life because of something I had done, i.e. chemo side effects (knowingly or unknowingly). So, I am feeling a little better about that issue today.
Other bad news I almost got was that our dear rescue basenji darted out the front door when a delivery driver came to drop off a package. My wife and I were both gone at the time so it had the potential to be a very bad situation. Luckily it was very cold and snowy yesterday so she ran all the way from the front door to the back door to be let back in. She made it back there before my mother-in-law could even put on her coat to go chase after her. I guess it is a good thing that African dogs don't have much fur, otherwise she may have tried to stay out longer.
Daisy the abused and neglected basenji paid me back this morning for her little excursion by eating part of a stuff toy causing the stuff toy to re-emerge while I was trying to sleep...three different times. The mistake I made was telling my wife and mother-in-law about it. To understand why that was a mistake I will run through my first waking moments today. I wake up to the unmistakable noise of a dog puking, and knowing I am too late to do anything about it. I lay my head down in disgust, not wanting to deal with it, then I hear that same sound again, but this time I am awake so I am able to throw a dog blanket under her to keep it off the carpet, and success! I lay back on the bed to revel in my success, when I hear a third mess being created and instantly deposited on the carpet. I drag myself out of bed, walk the dogs in the bitter cold, then come in to clean up the messes. I come out from my cleaning just to get asked to explain everything in detail to my mother-in-law. I finally think I am done talking about dog regurgitation, when my wife calls. I mention Daisy ate another stuff toy, with the usual outcome, and I again get asked about time, coordinates, etc. And now for some reason I am writing about it...
I did briefly try out my "abdominal brace" today while I walked the dogs, and it actually works very well and allows me to walk normally. I don't know if I will use it out in public or not. It would have a rather slimming effect the way it compresses the gut to hold everything in place, except that the adjustable scaffolding in the back, the contraption that allows it to brace, is a huge bulge that sticks out so much it won't even fit under clothes. I guess I will have to find a long jacket. I plan to use the brace tomorrow as I take advantage of the bitter cold and clean out the snake haunts in my shop and hopefully leave them with nowhere to hang out anymore.
So that is my life about now. It's just a rootin' tootin', doggy pukin', snakepit bootin', workshop lootin', Daisy losin' 'n' return to roostin', tummy boostin', no swimmer shootin' kinda week.
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