Monday, September 27, 2004

A False Indian Summer

One of the things that has annoyed me since I moved to Northern California in 1979 (I'm trying to let go of it, really I am..) is that people call the warm weather that we have in September, "Indian Summer". I have a very clear idea of what Indian Summer is, coming from the east. My definition is: "Unseasonably warm days that occur in the fall, after the first frost. Because of the frost, the leaves have started to turn colors, thus the name Indian, which refers to the colors, as in Indian Corn." I can't remember where I learned this, it's one of those things you just know, from having experienced it, or having it drilled into your consciousness at an early age.

The warm weather in September is a) not unseasonable, since it happens every year without fail, b) never after a frost, c) happens before the leaves turn colors. Therefore, it's not Indian Summer, people! But alas, no one listens. I guess I have to allow the transference of the term to this west coast meaning.

Anyway, this year's false Indian Summer is over now, and gratefully, we have moved on to Fall. The mornings are a crisp cool. The colors of the trees are muted, the grass darkened gold, and the skies are very, very clear. It still warms up during the day, but the days are short. Last night, we walked the dog to the park and ended up playing ball by the light of the rising full moon.

After the walk, we played Pictionary and ate ice cream. Aidan drew a picture of a man jumping off a cliff. I guessed, "a man, jumping? off a cliff?" and he shouted "YES! that's it!!" I said, "What was the word?" and he said "Skydiving!" Luckily, dealing with seasons in our nearly-seasonless state has prepared me for the surreal.

Leah Brooks at 1:03 PM

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Updates

Well, the dog is recovering, thanks for all your well-wishes. The vet sticks by his original diagnosis, which was "pay more money and find out she'll be okay if we just wait a while", I guess.

L'Attitude had a fabulous weekend at a workshop in San Ramon, strutting our stuff and singing like crazy. We wore a new outfit which made a big splash. Our goal is to look "extreme", and we are succeeding. The brightly-colored toenails (this time, black covered with green & gold glitter) are just part of the package.

I installed DSL at home last night, as part of Barb's birthday present. I was astonished at how easy it was, and annoyed that I had let the fear of complications postpone it this long. Since we are a bi-OS household (Mac & PC), I thought that might put a wrinkle in it, but I only had to make one support phone call, and if I had been doing it earlier in the day, I could have figured it out by myself. For me, brain power starts to ebb after 4pm, and by 8pm it's amazing that I can still function at all, let alone configure mac os 9 control panels!

On Sunday we attended the "How Berkeley can You Be" festival, in order to see some great Art Cars. I took some good photos and will try to post some here soon.


Leah Brooks at 10:53 AM

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Medical gobble-dee-gook

Yesterday morning, the dog couldn't walk without wobbling, and within a few minutes, she could barely get up. She was drooling puddles. I had never seen anything like it, and Barb was out of town, so I took her to the vet. Now, we don't have a regular vet for Lola yet, because she has been so "difficult" for the vet to examine. The vet we've been seeing must have been bitten by a dog, because she is very fearful of Lola (who is really a sweetheart, but stubborn) and wants us to sedate her. So I had to go to the emergency vet place, and take my chances with what vet I would see.

They admitted her and observed her the whole morning. They gave her IV fluids and put in a catheter. They x-rayed her, took blood tests, and so forth. They found nothing. They said she seemed worse than when I brought her in.

So, I had a chat with the vet. He was young and very very serious. He wore a white coat and was terse with the assistants in the office. Talking to him was like reading a medical textbook. He told me all of the things that these symptoms brought to mind, and then he told me what tests they had done for that possibility. His conclusion, since he couldn't find anything, was that it must be a neurological problem, and that I should take her to a specialist for more tests.

I have had pets all my life, and one thing I have learned is that most things resolve in a day or two.. or they don't, and then you need help. I kept trying to get a feel from him about whether he thought this illness fell into that category, of "wait and see", or if we needed to put her in a doggy ambulance and rush her off to UC Davis. I asked him what he would do if she were his dog. I suggested that I bring her home and wait a day. He refused to let me get a reaction from him. He kept repeating his technical terms and sounded for all the world like a doctor who is afraid he'll get sued for malpractice if he didn't prepare me for the worst.

I discussed it with Barb and we decided to bring Lola home. At home, she ate and drank and seemed very happy. After a bit, she tried to get up and was able to sit. She even staggered around the backyard, and finally was able to pee. This morning she seems much better.

Our neighbor's tree is dropping walnuts, and he suggested that Lola may have walnut poisoning. I looked it up online and found that the symptoms are drooling and lack of coordination, and could even cause seizures if enough are eaten. I can't really blame the vet for not knowing about every possibility, but he didn't talk to me about poison. It's much more likely that our young dog chewed up stuff she shouldn't have, than for her to suddenly develop a syndrome that only old dogs get over time. Even I know that, and I didn't have to run any tests to come to that conclusion.

I think that this time, my tendancy to go with my gut, instead of the medical establishment, seems to have been the right way. When doctors talk gobble-dee-gook instead of coming from their heart, I have to listen to myself instead.

Leah Brooks at 8:37 AM

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Baby, it's hot outside

It's our annual heat wave - over 100 degrees for a week, now. We have been sleeping on the aerobed out in the patio, under a mosquito net that Barb insisted on and which I really appreciate. No more dive-bombing, whining bugs at 2am. Last night, I woke suddenly not to bug sounds but to a scampering rustle and the sound of pebbles falling from the roof. The dog was running around and let out a bark.

All I could think of was that darned rat, jumping out at me last week. His family could be out searching for him, or even seeking revenge. Sleep was gone for the next hour, while I listened to each little sound, not really fearful but almost out of curiosity. Where will they come next? Then, the moon rose and directed its rays directly into my eyes. I got up, went in the house and back to sleep. On my way into the house, I marvelled at the number of stars that were visible, despite the bright moon. Even though there have been some fires in nearby counties, and lots of back-to-school traffic, the sky is remarkably clear.


Leah Brooks at 1:52 PM

Thursday, September 02, 2004

Predator

I had an encounter with the "natural world" this morning on our back porch. Lola was barking furiously in the back yard and running all around. By the time I went out there to see what was up, she had cornered something behind a mosaic panel on the porch. I moved the panel, and out flew a rat. Of course, I screamed, which is what you hope you won't do, as a woman who claims to be more liberated than that girl who stands on a chair with her skirts held up. But it did startle me. I wanted it to be a mouse, not a rat.

Lola grabbed the rat and proceeded to kill it. I went back into the house until the deed was done, as I couldn't stop her and really had no stomach to nurse a wounded rat back to health. She proudly displayed her kill to me as I shuddered and scooped it into a garbage bag and took it out to the trash.

What is it about rats that make us so grossed out? If it had been a gopher the same size, or a mole, or even a kitten, would I have the same aversion? Is it from stories of the plague, or from that darn rat movie from the 70s?
Leah Brooks at 12:01 PM