Trying to write another one here. I wanted to talk a bit about what I used to do when I was allowed to work and what I would like to do if I am ever released back to work.
"Look...I decided to switch the heads too so now it's Luke."
I used to work as a dog groomer. I loved that job, very rewarding. There is something therapeutic in brushing, bathing and drying animals. Sure the job has its hazards. For example, picture a little black and white toy poodle. His name is Rufus, but i call him Squishy. Every time he comes in, directly after his bath, he throws up on me. It's always hot dogs. Why can't people understand that there is a difference between people food and dog food? I digress. At that job I was bit, squished, farted on,
"Would this be fun to fly upside down?... probably like goin on a roller coaster... you go up you turn and then go like that... but you turn slowly.. oops the hatch opened..Vrrrrrooooooooommmmmm"
puked on peed on pooped on and scratched. Even though all those things occur, the job is still the best one I ever had.
"This should be in the sports closet."
Aside from the animals, the boss was great. No we didn't always agree, sure we argued a few times, but working for her proved to be a life changing thing for me. She is now my best friend. We are tightly joined and no one better fuck with either of us or they will feel the wrath of the other one, most ardently.
"Let's go...pheeew. Run or they'll get you"
I still spend Saturdays there with her volunteering my time to help answer the phone and take money from clients. But it's just not the same. I almost feel more useless when I go to "work", because she is so busy and I am just sitting there like the wart on the big toe of life.
I want to be a veterinarian, but I don';t see how that is going to happen in my current situation. The doctors aren't really encouraging either. I keep hearing words like progressive and deterioration. My hopes for a speedy recover got dashed in the second year of post surgical back pain, but now, I fight everyday to hang on to the thread of dashed hopes, so I don't fall into the abyss that is yawning so attractively at my rear. I fight it off the best I can by telling myself I am strong and that I will get through this. I keep the image of the Vet that I met in Tufts university outside Boston, Mass.
We stood outside the OR of the vet hospital and our tour guide perked up as a man came around the corner. My eye immediately fell to the silver legs that attached to him just above the elbow. He introduced himself as a Doctor and I almost started to cry. The hope rushed so hard into me that my breath caught in my chest. If he can do it with only one leg, then fuckin' A you bet your ass I can do it with two shitty ones and a cane.
"What? What? Can you tell me a story huh huh? Come on I don't have all day. Tell me a story. You gotta go potty? He usually wags. when I come back and I wait for him to bark, or do his thing, I will look at that Halloween magazine we found in our mail today, cuz I don't know what's in that. Didn't we plan on having a Halloween party thing? Oooh sweet a box of bones. To hold soda so your hands don't freeze off we can buy these things.. Oh look goodie bags. Hehehe thats awesome little teeth. Oh cool flexible skeletons to throw at the wall and watch them fall... only 8 cents. I was also thinking we could get a bag of bones for the decorations. Don't worry I don't let him go til I wipe his feet. I smell poop."
Every time i get down about my situation I think of that doctor and my bitterness and sorrow melt into...
"So you just have a few more errors to fix right?"
Into hope. Damn it! I think this will be the end of this blog. I have to go look at Halloween decorations and make a snack and play a board game and watch a movie and tuck him in and then... then if I have anything left, I will tackle my math homework.