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humor in a twisted way...

Not that freezer!!! Several years ago, while I was still working with Search & Rescue dogs, we had a house guest stay with us for a while. Now, this young man was very shy and it took me about a week to get him to really even talk to me. So, just as he was getting comfortable with making simple requests, such as what he might like for lunch, we had a bit of a set back. He was rummaging through the freezer one afternoon and pulled out what appeared to be a roast. In reality, he had looked in the wrong freezer. I have two, especially since one is used for holding cadaver parts that had been donated to the Search & Rescue team that I was running at the time. I stood there with an amused look on my face, trying hard not to laugh, and asked his to put the "roast" back. "Seriously," he said "I'm really hungry and don't mind waiting for you to cook this." "You really don't want me to cook that," I answered. "Really, I do... I like the way you cook..." he said with an innocent smile. "Trust me, " I said, "you really don't want that." "Why," he asked with a very puzzled look on his face. "Well," I said, "if you look just past the outer plastic layer, you'll see that there is a clearly marked 'Biohazard' bag underneath." He quickly began unwrapping the outer layer. When he saw that there really was a 'Biohazard' bag underneath he turned quite pale and looked at me - a little green around the gills. "What's in here, exactly, that you would need to wrap it in a bag marked 'Biohazard', he asked. His pale face telling me that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. "Well," I began in an amused tone, "you know that we train Search & Rescue dogs, right?" "Yes," he said slowly. "And we train cadaver dogs as well, " I continued. He just shook his head 'yes' slowly. "What do you think we use to train the dogs with?" I asked him. At that his eyes grew big as saucers and he whispered, "what is this?" Still holding the bag in his hand, I smiled wickedly, enjoying the poor boys discomfort a bit too much. "Well that, I believe, is a donated placenta," I answered as I walked over to him and looked inside of the bag. "Yup, that's the placenta." He shrieked loudly, dropped the parcel back into the open freezer and ran down the hallway to his room. I didn't see the poor boy for several days. Of course, he never went rummaging around in any of my freezers after that. Every now and then I still tease him - gently - of the incident. He's even learned to laugh about it - sort of.

My life before...

Like ripples on a pond... I stood there with my dog beside me, in total and utter shock at the huge mound of rubble in front of me. We had driven for 2 days after getting the phone call, asking us to come. This was my first 'real' Search & Rescue operation and boy, was it a big one. New York was very subdued - all of the people had looks of tightly drawn strain on their faces. The police officers were at such a high pitch of unspoken anger and pain that it showed in their eyes. One of the other dog handlers was getting impatient and, it typical southern fashion, was running her mouth and being rude. She was so blind at what was going on around her, I was stunned at her callousness and ashamed to be on the same team as her. I pushed that aside and let my calmer nature prevail. I finally went up to the woman and said, "these people have suffered one of the largest tragedies in US history, you need to be a little more understanding and not get yourself arrested because you can't seem to shut up!" She quickly quieted down and I received a look of gratitude from one of the police officers. We went through check point after check point until we finally reached our destination. It took us several more hours of waiting and processing to even get into the line that would give us our passes into the disaster zone. I stood patiently with my dog beside me, my backpack was outfitted with enough supplies to keep the two of us operating for several days straight if necessary. The crush of volunteers around me was huge and I quietly kept a safe ring around myself and my dog, didn't want my partner getting stepped on and injured before we had even gotten to 'Ground Zero'. A very large and burly man in front of me took a step back and met with my hand on his back to stop him. He turned and looked at me, puzzled. I just smiled and pointed down to where my SAR dog, Max, stood beside me. The man smiled back and said, "Oh hey, glad I didn't step on him." He petted Max on the head and called out to a friend of his much further up in the crowd. He was saying something about a SAR dog and handler beside him and before I knew it several uniformed soldiers were making their way through the crowd towards me. The higher ranking officer asked me if I was a Search & Rescue dog handler. I said yes and they pretty much surrounded me, escorted me to the front of the line and to a different desk for processing. I showed the necessary identification and gave the needed information and before I knew it I was being handed a "Ground Zero" pass and wished the best of luck. The next guard pointed me to the control center and told me to check in there whenever I entered or left the site. I did just that, stopped in and signed in with the officer at the Canine desk. Max and I picked up a few extra bottles of water, an extra flashlight and the mandated breathing mask. From there I was pointed towards "Ground Zero" and we began walking. What I had seen countless times on television did nothing to really prepare me for the sight of seeing a 3 story tall pile of rubble that covered many acres and was still on fire. A woman police officer saw my state of shock and awe and came up to me. "You alright there hon," she asked. "Um yeah, I think so," I replied. We talked a few moments and then I continued on to my designated area. Max and I may have been a good SAR team but there were also over 350 dog teams from around the country there also. We spent a lot of time just sitting and waiting to be called up to do ... something. We were lucky in that we had been called up fairly soon after getting to the dog handlers area. We did our job, found what we were asked to find and went back to waiting. One of the New York Fire Department Chaplain's noticed my dog and struck up a conversation. He had many questions about Max's training and capabilities. I answered each and everyone with honesty and understanding. He then asked me an interesting question, he wanted to know if Max was also a Therapy Dog. I had said yes, that was one of the prerequisites for his current occupation. His face just lit up and he asked me to follow him. We had walked s short ways to a large group of fire fighters who were waiting and resting on the sidewalk in front of the American Express building. It was a sea of men who were so dust covered and bone weary that it seemed like I was looking at a black and white photo. Of the ones who even noticed that I was there I got a chance to look into their eyes - there was hardly any life left in them. The Chaplain turned to me and said, "let's see if Max can do any good here.. these guys have been here since the towers went down and refuse to leave. Their friends and brothers are under that rubble..." I just nodded my head and unleashed my dog. I knelt down beside him and said softly, "Max - go visit..." and pointed to the fire fighters in front of us. That was his command to go into his "Therapy Dog" mod of behavior. Max softly walked into the sea of men and slowly went up to each of them. Some were surprised to see him and grew excited, some began to chuckle as they petted him, and some were too badly wounded emotionally to notice. These are the men that Max spent most of his time with. He gently stayed with them until they took notice, then he would lay his head on their leg or their arm until they came out of their emotional black hole. One man kept pushing Max away, not roughly but I was alarmed. Max kept going back to him and finally I saw the man had put his arms around the big dog's neck and was weeping into his fur. The Chaplain and I stood there and watched and Max made his way through every man in the group. It was like watching ripples on a pond spread out and grow larger. Life had come back into the men's eyes and I saw true emotion begin to emerge again. That session ended with several of the fire fighters playing with Max. I had tossed several of his tennis balls (his reward for a good find) to the men and they were bouncing tennis balls off of the side of the American Express building and laughing like children as he jumped and leapt to catch them and bring them back to whoever had thrown the ball. The Chaplain was also re-energized by the scene before us. He clapped me on the back and said, "when you die, know that you will go to heaven because you've spent your time in Hell here with us..." I thanked him and watched as he went to work with some of the fire fighters. Several of them came up to me and thanked me heartily for allowing Max to play with them. I just smiled and said, "Anytime guys, anytime." Several asked for my business card and wanted to know where the heck Arkansas was? We laughed and talked, they seemed to really love my southern accent. Of all the things that I saw while in New York, and all of the experiences I had while at Ground Zero, the vision of my very large German Shepherd helping to bring life back into the eyes of those fire fighters is something that will always make me feel like I was actually able to help and make a difference. That feeling was validated for me when a year later, I was at my office and my Internet IM alert sounded. It was one of the fire fighters from that day and he had just wanted to make contact and let me know that he remembered my dog Max and I. It was very overwhelming and brought a tear to my eye.
Another one of those days.... Not everyday is like this but they are becoming more frequent... such is life. Morning again, another morning that doesn't come creeping in gently on silent cat feet but rushing in with the dull ache of another medication hang over. I groggily rolled over, pried my eyes open and slowly pulled myself to a sitting position. I tried to gather my bearings, time - day - purpose of life, you know the drill. Oh yes, the wonderful world of medicated sleep and it's dreamless, thoughtless, almost lifeless means of being... what I have to do just to get a little peace and sleep. I forced myself awake a bit more and pulled back the covers. I attempted to swing my legs out of bed and to the floor, but wait - they aren't moving - wonderful! It's going to be one of those days again, just what I was looking forward to... With a sigh of resignation I close my eyes and focus my mind and my will, when I was satisfied that I was 'where I needed to be' mentally then I directed every ounce of willpower I had into making my legs move. I took each one and swing it over until my feet touched the floor. I then shifted my weight and pulled myself to a standing position, my legs trembled with the exertion but I was determined to go through with it. I slowly, cautiously, made my way to my bathroom and dressing room. Focusing on every step, ensuring that my feet moved and that my knees didn't buckle I finally made it the short distance and sank into the chair at my vanity. My hands trembled as I went through my normal morning routine, by the time I had shed my flannel pj's for my favorite pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater I was out of breath. As I shuffled my way into the kitchen, again with full focus and concentration, I glanced around to see what my husband and son have left for me to clean up. I made my way to the tall kitchen stool that sits close to the counter. At this point I needed some fresh, hot, strong coffee and slide onto the stool to do just that - make coffee. As it brewed I reveled in the aroma, it always brings back pleasant memories of growing up in my aunts house in Germany. For me coffee is always a happy trip down memory lane to a time of innocence and love and family. After pouring a cup I sipped the hot brew with appreciation and then reached for my morning handful of medications. Yeah, today I'll need everyone one of those damned pills. The wonderful world of living with MS, another sigh of resignation as I wash down the pills with my coffee. I did what I needed to in the kitchen and then headed towards my home office. Again, I shuffled my way down the hall, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. One hand holding my coffee cup and the other out stretched touching the wall for balance and support. I got to the wonderful chair that is so comfortable that sits in front of my desk. I gently, carefully placed the coffee cup down on the coaster that sits just to the left of my keyboard. Sinking gratefully into the chair I leaned back and closed my eyes, my body trembling from exertion and I felt exhausted already. Muscles and tendons twitch and jump chaotically from the mis-firing of the nerves signals. I sat for a bit, waiting for the meds to kick in and stop the excessive nerve function and muscle reactions. I logged onto my computer and checked my schedule for the day, nothing important and my consultations could be done over the phone - no problem. I called my business partner and discussed the day with her, she asked am I coming in today. "No," I answered, "it's another one of those days and I won't be driving." "Okay," she answered and wished me well and chided me to just rest for a change. I laughed and said that I would, "after I'm done with a few things." I was engrossed in writing up notes to add to some case files when I hear the dog bark and the front door open. My youngest son called out to me, "Mom, where are you?" "I'm in the office," I replied. "Have you been working all morning again?" He asked with a look on his face that told me that he ass already growing impatient with me. and "Yes," I answer him, "it's what grownups do when they have a business to run." I said this to him with a grin. "It's after 1:00, don't you think it's time you take a break and get something to eat?" I hadn't realized that it was so late already, my stomach certainly wasn't giving me any clues. "Sure what would you like," I asked him. I know that he usually comes by to check on me. He isn't happy with his brother or his dad, he feels that they should be more caring of my condition and do more for me. It's an old argument and not one that I am willing to revisit with him. I am a very independent woman and don't like the idea of being babied or hovered over. He wanted to take me out to lunch but I just wasn't up to it and told him so. His eyes took in the trembling of my hands and the rest of my body. He knew that I won't tell him that it was another one of those days for me. So he said "lets go into the kitchen and see what we can whip up." Without missing a beat I said "sure" and carefully got up from my chair. My son saw the determination on my face and the set of my jaw as I concentrated to make my feet move towards the door. With all of the grace and diplomacy that I have taught him, he casually took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm and we made our way slowly back towards the kitchen as I leaned on my son for support instead of the wall. I got settled back on my stool and we went about making lunch for the two of us. I looked at my son and wondered, most people who first meet him are frightened by his muscular build and all of the rough looking tattoos on his arms and neck, something he picked up while in prison. I also know that those that get to know him soon realize that he is a very gentle and caring soul with a good heart. He has always been that way towards me when his brother couldn't cope with my illness. My husband, although a good and loving man, copes with it by ignoring it and what it does to me. So my son comes by and checks on me, or calls to make sure that I'm not too sick to get out of bed that day. He has always had that in him and I am thankful that I helped to instill that. I made sure that he was extremely well trained in various forms of martial arts and self defense - occupational hazard at the time - but I also wanted him to have enough heart and soul to temper his hard side and be merciful to others as well. After lunch he got me settled in on the sofa with my favorite blue satin lap throw, my favorite music playing softly in the background and nice cup of tea on the table beside me. We talked about his new job and life in general, his goals and dreams and his current love interest. Afterwards he did a few things for me and then headed for work with a promise to call me later. The phone was also on the table and the timer set for the calls I needed to make later in the day. I drifted and day dreamed and just rested for a while, enjoying the quiet afternoon. The sounds of the birds through the open window and the deep breathing of my dog lying on the floor next to the sofa were soothing and comforting. When the timer went off I pulled the files I had on the table onto my lap and opened the top one and dialed the number listed inside. I only made phone consultations with established clients, all new clients were met and seen at the office until I grew comfortable enough with their progress that phone consultations were warranted. As I was finishing up with my notes on the last call I heard my dog get up and trot to the door. I could hear car doors on the driveway and knew that my husband and other son were home. I closed my folders, set them aside and struggled to get up from the sofa. The guys came in with their usual noisy conversations and teasing. My dog, a very timid and skittish creature by nature, growled and slunk away from them. After all of the time he had been in my home the dog still only wants to be near me. The only other person he actually likes is my youngest son, who he absolutely adores and responds to as well as he does me. I find the whole thing comical and smile. My other son just looks at the dog and says, "oh shut up," and then asked what was for dinner. I make my way to the kitchen and with all of the 'hello's" and 'how was your day's" I didn't focus on what I was doing and fell headlong right onto the floor. There was a slight pregnant pause in the commotion and my other son helped me to my feet. My husband turned and went into the bedroom, closing the door. Well, I knew I wouldn't be seeing him for the rest of the night. My son just turned to me and settled me onto my stool saying, "well old lady, be more careful - don't want you to break a hip or anything..." I just smiled and retorted, "careful smartass, I'm the one cooking your dinner tonight - you might just find it with a little extra greens mixed in..." We teased and bantered back and forth like that as I made dinner and even got the young man to give me a hand with things. Afterward the evening meal, yes my husband joined us for that, things settled down for the evening. The guys watched television and I did the washing up. Not to disturb them, and their ideas of entertainment, I headed back to my office to put away the files and notes and get things ready for tomorrow. After tidying everything up I just sat at my computer and thought, I thought about what my life had been and what it was now and where it was heading. I tend to do that when I feel that I need a little perspective. Time passed and my husband stuck his head into the door of my office. "Coming to bed or are you going to stay in here," was all he asked before he headed back down the hallway. I smiled to myself and pondered that question. Finally, I pulled myself up and carefully made my way down the hall back towards the living room. I tidied up a bit in there before turning off the television and lights. I made sure that everything was put away in the kitchen and slowly headed towards my bedroom. My husband was reading in bed and barely glanced up at me as I headed into my dressing room. I went through my nightly routine and got ready for bed. I made my way over to my side of the large king sized bed and painfully got under the covers. It had been a long hard day for me and my body was protesting with every move. As I settled in against the pillows I tried to make conversation with the man lying next to me. He was as far over on his side as he could possibly be without actually falling off. He was reading and going through things from work and periodically answering his Blackberry and texting back to his night staff. I started with, "I heard back from that clinic that I want to go to for treatment," I said casually. "Hmm," was all he said, never taking his eyes off of the material in front of him. "You remember, the one I told you about?" I said as I tried to engage him again. "Oh yeah, that's all the way in India or some place isn't it?" He asked. "Yes," I answered him, "it is but the clinic comes highly recommended for MS patients from all over Europe and the US." "Well, just make sure that you can afford to go." He said, "it's not like they take our health insurance over there." "I know," I answered, "have you decided if you're going with me?" "We'll see," was all I got from him. With that I said good night and turned over to go to sleep. Yes, it had been another one of those days...
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