Well, ‘good’ might be a bit
overstating it.
“I am well”, was my Mantra
when asked today at the rehab/gym “how am I”?
Many people answer I am good,
but I do believe grammatically that is incorrect; the proper answer should be
that “I am well”, right?
Calling all grammar mavens,
calling all grammar mavens!
Sure I am trying hard to be
more socially acceptable since misbehaving all these years I do believe has
taken a toll on me.
That’s not to say that I am
breaking the mirrors type of homeliness, but pretty close in my opinion.
Between the left cheek biopsy
of only one stitch and the above the lip dog bite that took forty miniscule
ones done by a plastic surgeon my face has been through the mill.
PS that dog bite was my
younger son’s collie Shepard mix that was a pup from Hurricane Andrew circa
1992 and he was named for that horrendous event.
I have told the story before,
Hubby was in Tampa
at a Hurricane Conference one hundred miles away and this was around 1999 or
2000, for some reason I cannot remember…
I was editing my Misty Gable
Mystery series that a publisher was interested in, and I had been drinking
coffee and smoking cigarettes all morning and afternoon and forgot what time it
was because I was in ‘the zone’, the writer’s zone, hoping to soon be the author’s
zone…I hadn’t been in the shower or even out of my nighty, yep that is how I used
to be that committed.
Maybe I should have been…
Any-who, for some reason I
had gotten the inkling that it was late and no I hadn’t eaten only drank that
java and smoked those cigs and well… I started to get up for some more of one
or the other and all of a sudden…as I rolled back my computer chair I heard an
ungodly yelp!
Andrew was in agony I had
rolled over a part of him, but I had no idea what part that was, a leg, a tail
or what, and I felt his pain and I bent down to say so …”poor baby” right into
his face then all of a sudden without any real warning he let out another
horrid noise, but this time a deep confounded growl and then…my upper lip
became chopped meat with his vicious attack of me his adopted Mom! Number two
son had asked us to take him in with his cat Casey when he went into the Navy
back on January 27 of 1999 and of course we couldn’t refuse. Andrew had of
course been a part of the family from the age of eight weeks when the boys went
down to help with the animals after we had way back in 1992, number one was
twenty then and our younger son was sixteen and they of course were still
living at home with us… That expanded our menagerie of pets to three dogs, one
cat and our cockatiel at that time…But two years later when number two went
away to college he had an apartment not a dorm room and so I felt for
protection and company he should have Andrew back…and so he did take him. And
until then we had always had them come home for visits and he wasn’t a
stranger, Andrew that is and so when he bit me that terrible day I blamed
myself! After all I rode over his tail or leg or foot or what-have-you, didn’t
I?
That’s why when I did drive
myself to the hospital after a quickie shower and getting dressed I gauzed my
lip the whole time while I watched my life source, blood, wash away down the
drain, scary!
Somehow number two son was
told about the incident and felt that Andrew should be put down, and I insisted
it was my fault, and Andrew lived with us for two more years, but died a
horrible death from liver cancer with jaundice and bile vomit and for months we
went to the vet and had spent thousands as we had before on other pets who were
ill but to no avail, he was terminal and went out with a fight to his death,
his anger and viciousness was amplified when trying to get him into the vet
that last day he had to be euthanized…
Although, we always had dogs
and our two Yorkies Benji and Brandi were stepped on too often, since they were
so little and they wouldn’t bite me when I tried to apologize, in fact they
licked me, especially Benji…I came to the conclusion that Andrew may have been
ill before it was evident to us and maybe, just maybe that is why he reacted
that way? Sometimes though, I do think he may have been just not that nice a
dog, since the year before he actually bit our little Brandi and she too had to
be examined by her doctor, the vet. Who knows…?
And Skipper too has been
accidentally stepped on or moved by my wheeled indoor vehicles and he is of the
ilk to kiss me when I apologize, never bite or be mean…
Animals/ pets are like people
we all know that, personality wise… and my theory has been small dogs take
small bites while big dogs take big ones, and that is why to I prefer to err on
the side of safety I stick with the latter, and more than likely ones with
loving dispositions!
The point is my face is a
mess and as I have gotten fatter when most would think those lines would have
stretched smooth they somehow became more distinctive and ugly reminders of two
of the times in my life that I had to try hard to be brave. And daily that has been the
case over the last few years; albeit I have not been a plausible example of how
to handle this hand I was dealt.
And it shows in my face, as
my mean nasty ugliness that I feared… when believe it or not I did model for three
different stores as a child and young woman and even in my forties, here in Florida in promotion!
Looks should not mean
anything to anyone, but many think my lines above my lip was caused by smoking
and they were not, and that biopsy was benign too! I had a lump that was
removed…the size of a small pebble under the skin; so very odd…with all my other
stuff going on, some days I am not at all well, but I have decided that Mantra of 'I am well!"
is how I must think to get there in my mind anyway, correct, yes!
Moving on…
Our storm is here now and so
allow me to be the very first to wish you a very goodnight and ask you to kindly count
all your blessings and share all those overages with you know who and we will
too!
And next time please be here
or be square, ya hear!