Teenage Woes
On Tuesday I took Lani to the second dog park of the two parks in Cary, the one I had been to with her once before. There was only one man there and one dog. The dogs had a grand old time for about fifteen minutes, then the other dog needed to go home and so did I. But Lani ran far away, all around the perimeter of the park and did not react to my call “Lani, Come!”, the first and most important command that she had always obeyed at home. Another dog came in and Lani ran to him but stayed outside my reach. The second dog left and I did not know what to do. I threw a ball to her – she did not even look. I said goodbye, walked to my car, slammed the door so she would hear I was leaving, and parked the car in another spot. No results. I went back in with a treat (not really allowed in the park, said the owner of the third dog). Lani did not care about a treat – the other dog immediately came to sit next to me: my new friend. Finally, a forth dog with owner arrived. I told her about my challenge and asked her to stay in the hold between the parking lot and the wood chip park with her dog, so I could lure Lani in. Sure enough, that worked! Lani came running toward the other dog, and when I opened the gate for her and she came in, I could finally put her on the leash. I scolded her all the way home. It’s a good thing that we are starting another seven weeks of obedience training on Saturday mornings, this time with distractions. I sure hope that when Thanksgiving rolls around, she will have that coveted Good Citizen Award.
Another thing: for the past two weeks Lani did not want to eat breakfast or dinner. I was worried for a while. Last month, when she stopped eating, I gave away what was left of the bag of Puppy Chicken and Rice kibbles and bought a bag of Adult Beef and Rice at Pet Smart. She did eat that for a few days and then stopped again. So now we take it away if she does not eat. We’ll see what happens. It has been a long time since we had a dog that would not eat!
Doctors
This Monday, nine days after I fell into the hole in the grass, I knew the pain was not muscular – no ice pack or hot pack had worked and I did not have my normal range of motion without pain with my left arm. I was lucky: I could get an appointment that same day with the orthopedic surgeon I had seen before when my right shoulder badly needed surgery. Right there in the office they took X-Rays and the doctor could determine that my bones were ok, so it was the bursa or tendon that had received the trauma of my fall. He offered to do a Cortisone shot, which I gladly accepted. Continuing with Advil, the pain is much less already, and I could even participate in a half hour of chair yoga today. What he said when I asked if I could expect a cure and how soon I would be well again? “I am not sure, but if it does not seem to work we could consider an MRI or amputation.” Ha, ha, a doctor’s joke. I would certainly go for a second opinion! Which is what I did for my right shoulder. I wanted the best of the best, and am very happy I did, because it was not a shoulder replacement, but a very complicated surgery indeed.
Another doctor’s story: when we moved to Prescott in 2001, I needed a new prescription for hypertension pills. I found a doctor who took Medicare and made an appointment. The nurse took my blood pressure and noticed it was high, let me lay down and rest until the doctor came in. When he did, an Asian doctor, brown skinned with slanted eyes, wearing camouflage pants, I thought a Japanese soldier was bending over me to take my blood pressure again. It shot up to dangerous levels! The doctor wrote a new prescription and let me go. I never went back.
The doctor I found after him I was with for a few years, until something he said hit me the wrong way. As I went into his office and a heavy-set older man shuffled out towards the desk to pay, and I asked him what was wrong with that patient (a wrong question of course, but I was on good terms with the doctor), the doctor said “He has very high blood pressure.” So, remembering my condition a few years ago, I asked if he got good medication. “No,” the doctor said, “but everybody has to die of something.” That was the end of that doctor for me!
I have had good, pleasant doctors since then, in Arizona as well as here in Cary. The Primary Cary Physician we have now even comes to our house to check our vitals. She is with Doctors Making House Calls. And that is a wonderful thing for us, saving a lot of time and knowing that we are in good hands with frequent checkups, shots, blood draws and what have you. So…
It’s Wonderful Life!
Until next time,
Ronny