Our Guy

No, your eyes aren't deceiving you.  I'm back.  I've thought about getting back into the blogging game for a while now.  If it is even a game.  Blogging business?  I don't know.  See, this is what happens when I just start typing without forming coherent thoughts first.  Regardless, here we go.  Full-steam ahead.

Unfortunately, I'm kind of posting for less than ideal reasons.  I've talked to some people about it, but I feel like the whole story deserves more than just a Facebook status update.  I shall try to get through it without crying.  But I suppose none of you would know that I am crying.  So, that's something.

As many of you know (because I'm that annoying pet mom), we have a beautiful Bernese Mountain Dog named Truman.  Truman has been our guy since he was a puppy.  Well, I should say he was Scott's guy from day one.  Scott got him when he was about eight weeks old, and he was there for those late puppy nights where he whined and whined.  Scott was there to let him out every two hours because he couldn't hold it much longer than that.  And Scott was there for all the first walks, first park visits, first injury (it was a broken bone in his paw), and so on.  Then I came along and Truman quickly became our dog.  Evie, Truman, Scott, and I made up the original dysfunctional law school family.  Along the way we added in Shelby and of course Cherry (I'm sure even people who don't know me know Cherry.  She's that much of a hot mess).  But Truman was first.  He is the oldest of our fur babies, but even so he's just shy of six.  Still a baby to us!  To call him our dog- I don't really feel like that does him justice.  He's part of our family, and I love him so much.  Scott and I both do.  And Cherry adores him.

Last Monday, I noticed that Truman was a bit down.  He wasn't really eating, was kind of lazy, and he had vomited a few times.  We thought it was a typical stomach bug, so we made sure he was drinking water and just thought we'd give him a few days.  A few days passed and he wasn't really getting better, so last Thursday Scott took him to the vet.  I couldn't go because of work stuff.  I was thinking we'd just get some antibiotics or something and we'd be good to go.  When I got home Thursday night, I found out I was dead wrong.  The vet had scheduled an ultrasound with a different vet because there were things going on that she couldn't figure out.  But, it became clear that we wouldn't just be good to go with some meds.

Friday came, and we had the ultrasound.  That vet pointed out some masses in Truman's abdomen, and another in his spleen.  They did a biopsy, and we don't know those results until this week.  But, after discussion with our vet about his symptoms, and what we know about Truman's breed, all signs point to a late stage cancer that is common in Bernese Mountain Dogs.  It's an aggressive cancer, and there is no treatment.  It acts quickly, and typically when dogs are diagnosed, the timeline is weeks, if that.  As for Truman, he's had his ups and downs.  This morning was very rough, and we weren't sure he would make it.  He still struggles to eat because he can't really digest his food very well, and he doesn't really want to do anything but lie down and rest.

It's beyond heartbreaking.  To say that Scott and I are devastated is an understatement.  We want nothing but the best for him, and we're so helpless right now.  Even with everything, he still manages to greet us at the door when we get home, and he wags his tail when we walk by, and he's generally still his happy self.  But his energy is fleeting.  It's so hard to remember what he used to be, and to see it all change in what feels like the flip of a switch.  Last week at this time we had no idea this would happen.  Not even the slightest hint that something was wrong.  And now it's all changed.

We will get the biopsy results this week, but given everything we know, no one is sure what else it could be but some form of cancer.  Regardless, he's not ok and his condition is not improving.  Scott and I are trying to brace and prepare ourselves for the likelihood that our days with our boy are running out.  As devastating as it is to even think like that, we both agree that we can't see him suffer for our own selfish desire to have him around.  Sometimes, he doesn't seem like he's in pain.  Other times, I wish I could take everything he's feeling so he wouldn't have to.

Basically, our goal now is to make sure whatever time we do have with him is filled with love and with us making sure he's as comfortable as he can be.  We know our time is short, and as much as it is physically painful to think about, we are trying to prepare ourselves.  There is so much to think about.  So much that was second nature that will change when he is gone.  And of course, we worry about how Cherry will handle being alone.  Truman has been her brother since day one.  When we brought her home, she was 15lbs and this giant 110lb dog became her best friend.  I think she senses something is happening, because she's very attentive to Truman, and she follows me everywhere I go in the house.  She also puts her paw on me when she catches me crying.  I can't hide from her, she's too damn good at seeking.  There have been many tears since Thursday, and I'm sure there will be more.

If anyone has a hankerin', you can send thoughts our way that Truman can be at peace, and thoughts for Scott because as much as it hurts for me, my heart hurts for my love because there's nothing I can do to make him feel better either.

In the mean time, I'm going to put on a brave face and try to not cry in front Truman.  I want whatever time left to be happy and filled with anything he wants.

Sorry for the downer post, but we wanted people to have an idea about what's going on.  We will keep you guys updated when we hear more.  Love you friends.

Logging the Miles

First of all, yes I'm back.  In my head choirs of angels are singing down as lights beam up from beneath me and a soft breeze ruffles my long hair while I make my entrance.  In reality, I'm just sitting in a hotel room in Cape Girardeau, MO.  If I run around the room I can get the hair ruffle.  So I guess that's something.

Anyhoo, since my last post blogger has changed a bit.  I had no idea what I was looking at when I logged in.  I almost created a whole new blog, which would be silly since I can't even keep up with this one.  Derp. 

I've been traveling a lot for work lately.  Mostly driving around Missouri, Illinois, and Kentucky.  But last week I got to go to Philadelphia for a disability law conference.  It was a jam-packed two days, and it included sprinting around Philadelphia to see all the big stuff, like the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, Franklin's Grave, and the Graff Declaration House.  It also included the question "what IS the Liberty Bell?" and a subsequent discussion re: that.  But, my airplane rides reminded me of traveling once when I was little.  I was equally as fascinated with airplanes then as I am now.  I fly all the time but I'm still 100% fascinated by airports.  I could watch airplanes all day. 

We were flying to Texas from New York to visit my grandparents, and I was with my Mom.  We got on the plane and I got my window seat and immediately starting playing bank.  For those looking to entertain your kids in a non-digital way, bank is when you lift the window shade and pretend you're a bank teller.  You complete the transactions and send the imaginary people on their way...through the sky presumably.  It's incredibly fun for a 6-year-old only child who is used to both making up people and talking to herself.  Also on the plane with us was another young mother and her daughter, who was mentally handicapped.  She was having a hard time with the flight, and my mom suggested I draw her a picture to make her feel better and be a friend.  I thought it was a fanTASTIC idea, as I had just mastered the art of drawing realistic looking houses and had learned to draw things that didn't just look like scribbles.  I got to work, and I was so proud to show my mom what I had created.  You can imagine my shock when she took my drawing and frowned... 


I had drawn a smiling light-bulb with a quote bubble and he was saying "You're Bright!!!"


...Of course now I can see the problem.  To the well-versed adult, it looked like I was making fun of the girl.  I was six though, and believe it or not I had not yet mastered the art of sarcasm.  That came around age seven or eight.  So anyway, I was rather upset that my mom didn't think my drawing was appropriate.  My mom tried to explain it to me in six-year-old terms, but in my mind I was just trying to compliment her.  Despite the sadness at my wasted drawing, I recovered and busted out a kick-ass house or something else that couldn't be misconstrued as teasing her.  I do remember her smiling when she looked at my picture, and I felt really good about it, even if part of me wanted to yell "You should see the picture my mom wouldn't let me show you! You ARE bright!"  Ever a ray of sunshine I am. 

Stories like that make me think "Good lord how many times have my parents had to hold in laughter at something I just didn't get."  Probably a lot. 

Blumen, part zwei.

Ok so they're even prettier now!  I'm such an overly proud plant mom.

Blumen.

Check out these bad boys.  

In other news, I somehow got a bug bite in the middle of my back.  It's a very awkward spot to try and scratch, and I know I make straining faces while trying to do it.  I'm not sure what they look like, but one of the ALJs I have a lot asked me if I was ok because I looked like I had a broken bone.  Damn you mosquitoes.

Alright, I'm off.  I promise to write something better soon.  Ish.

Spring!

Spring makes for an excellent time to take the dogs to the field by our house.  It's also an excellent time to let them run and swim in the creek that is next to the field.  Cherry might be a hot mess, but she's pretty good at not running off into the woods, and will contentedly chase her ball downstream and swim back up.  Only occasionally will she attempt to chew on the remains of a decaying turtle and/or bird.  We quickly stop that. 

Here are some pics from our recent outings.

Racing around the field.

 Beautiful late afternoon.

The happy dude.

She's so skinny!  Betch.

It took her a while to realize that when she put the ball in moving water it would float away.

Happy pups!

My family.  :)

From an Outsider

I had hearings in Joplin this week, and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't at least curious about what it would look like about 9 months later.  I saw the footage and was just amazed at what had happened last May.  I counted my blessings that everyone I knew in Joplin had made it through, okay in the end.  One of our paralegals spent a while in the ICU with broken bones and injuries, but she's incredibly strong and made it.  I remember every positive update about her being a beacon in the darkness that clouded the weeks after the tornado.  I also spoke with her recently about a case and it struck a chord with me when she congratulated me on getting married- we never had a chance to talk about it right after the wedding because the tornado struck May 22nd.  I got married May 21st. 

I got into Joplin on Wednesday night after dark and had to make a wild chase around town looking for something that could function as a serviceable suit jacket because I had forgotten mine in Columbia.  My hearings started the next morning, but I had short period of time to grab lunch so I headed to the Chick Fil-a.  We don't have one in Columbia (tragedy), so I enjoy some nuggets when I get a chance.  As I was driving to the restaurant and while I was eating, I didn't expect the scene to have such an impact on me.  Everything in that area of Joplin is brand new, because everything else was destroyed.  I was eating in that stretch of land hard hit by the tornado.  The new constructions and cleared ground stood in stark contrast to the trees with their limbs and bark stripped off.  To say I was humbled would be an understatement.  But, I was not only struck by the lingering reminders of that terrible day.  I was also touched by the people of Joplin.  Call me mushy and emotional, but I have rarely come across a town with nicer and more grateful people.  It started when I checked into my hotel, and the car that pulled into the parking lot let me cross in front with all my bags.  A small gesture, yes, but one that is becoming less and less frequent.  There wasn't one grand event that stood out to me, just a general kindness that evades a lot of other populations.  People waving to me when I let them cross in the parking lot.  People letting me go first in line because I only had one item and they had several.  Holding doors open, saying thank you when I hold doors open.  It's all the little things that I try to make a point to do, but rarely find reciprocated.  Then, there was the scene of several buildings going up at once.  Construction companies, workers, everyone working together to rebuild.  It's a sublime image that I'm painting in your head, but it's one that is true.  I think the thing that hit me most happened at lunch.  I was sitting there eating when a group of guys sat down at the table next to me.  Before eating, they prayed.  It's not unusual to see people do that, but they weren't praying for their lunch to bless them or a certain thing to happen for them.  They were thanking God for their lives and their health, and thanking Him for continuing to bless them.  I saw similar prayers at other tables.  A simple, straightforward message from a resilient town.

I can honestly say that I didn't think I would feel that way about being there.  But, as an adopted Missourian, I feel proud of Joplin for what they've been through, recovered from, and continue to accomplish.  Joplin and its people moved this Texan to near tears.

As a side note, Leah told me my sentimentality meant I was ready to be a mom.  But shortly after that, I heard a little girl whining about her chicken nuggets and I thought she was being a little shit.  Sentimental moment over.

Literally blowing over.

This morning I got to work in the Jeff City office and noticed that my dad had texted me "hope you are ok and stayed safe, love ya."  I will admit I was still in a slight morning haze, part of which entailed me not realizing I had one of my pant legs tucked into my sock.  Fortunately I noticed this myself before anyone could further ponder how I've done relatively well in life and can't even get dressed properly at age 27.  Needless to say, in reading the text, I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.  I sat there thinking hope I'm ok?  Well, I mean I slept pretty well last night and I was safe driving here. That Chuck.  So dramatic.  Then I opened the interwebs and saw that storms and tornadoes blazed a trail of destruction through several mid-western states last night.  I'm honestly glad that it just rained in Columbia for the obvious reasons, but also because I had no idea tornadoes were an option so I was ill-prepared to handle anything more than a few rain drops on my clothes.  Among the places hit was Paducah, KY, a little town on the Ohio River that I've grown particularly familiar with over the last few months, and Branson.  In all seriousness, I think people learned from Joplin, and take those warnings seriously.  Still, it's amazing to see how quickly so much damage can happen. 

Speaking of Joplin, I'm sitting in a Drury Inn here right now.  The Drury is in the same parking lot as the Hampton Inn my parents and I stayed at when we moved to Texas.  Memories!  In the wake of last night's storms, today was windy as hell.  I'm not exaggerating when I say that I almost blew over in the parking lot of my office.  Then, while getting gas before leaving for Joplin, a gust of wind blew my car door closed onto my leg.  I yelped, almost like a dog, and then muttered a series of expletives that drew a look of concern from a homeless guy walking in front of my car.  The wind also whipped a strand of my hair directly into my eyeball before I could blink.  Quite a battle I had with this moving air.  And the whole drive to Joplin was a two hands on the wheel affair so I didn't drive off the highway.  But, here I am!

And now, it's bedtime.  Long day tomorrow. Toodles friends.