One Step Forward....

I'm having a tough time feeling focused and positive.  Fear can take over in life when you least expect it.

I'm also experiencing some residual issues from the dog attack that I wasn't expecting - mostly a tweaked-out mid-back.  It's weird what 5 seconds of terror will do to one's body.

For the next few weeks I'll be going to a chiropractor to work at getting un-tweaked.

No - I didn't go back to the "stockyards" - but found a nice quiet relaxing place to get better.

It took a couple days for the adrenaline to level off - that's when you really understand the seriousness of it all.  However, the dog/shop owner appears to be totally clueless!  When I walked into the shop the next day to get the copy of the dog's vaccination records - Lyla the dog was still running free in the store!  Her life had not "changed" as he had lamented the day before.  She may be a loving pet most of the time - but I don't think he believes how vicious she can be in that one moment...  

He showed me the paper of vaccination types and dates but refused to give me a copy of it as he'd promised.  I didn't want to resort to legal help - but the owner was so uncooperative that I had no choice.  It's not how I expected - or wanted - this to play out.

It seems to me that the dog is really the only one in this scenario that is totally acting true to its nature and instincts - even if she is a little bitch for biting me!

An all class reunion is coming up this weekend at the old Sierra High School.

I think it existed as a high school from 1959 - 1979.  My class was "72 - Woo Woo Woo".



 I know that I'm off my center when I feel anxious about going - instead of excited.

I've got 5 days to snap out of it.....

I Miss...

...Autumn!

A First Time For Everything

The other day I experienced two 'firsts' in my life.

I went surfboard shopping.  No - I have not turned into some Southern California surfer girl wanna-be.  Surfing has always been a spectator sport for me.

MRW came to So Cal - as SLC is obviously not a haven for surf shops - on a mission to find 9 used surfboards for a commercial shoot.

It was a fun adventure wandering around the San Diego swap meet and abundant surf shops along the many miles of beaches.  I learned a lot about surfboards and surfing that day!

The 2nd new experience came while at a surfboard rental shop in Mission Beach.  He had stopped the car to type a text and I got out to inquire at the shop if they had any old boards for sale. 

 The front door of the shop was locked and there was a rather crazed dog inside barking at the door.

As I walked back to the car - I noticed the side door of the shop was open.  

I noticed this because the big fence door right off the sidewalk was also open.  I deduced that there might actually be someone there if both doors were wide open.  And after all - I just had a quick question to ask.

I stayed out on the sidewalk and called into the shop to see if anyone was there.  Suddenly that devil dog from the front door came flying through the open gate and in an instant my jeans on my upper right leg were torn.

I know I went into adrenaline-rush-survival-mode.  I turned to the right to bolt and the dog jumped at me again and ripped my jeans on my left leg.  This time the little 'bitch' bit me!

I guess I had a 3rd new experience - Shock.  I stood there shaking - trying to figure out what the hell just happened!

MRW hadn't seen the attack - but in his side mirror he did see me talking to a restaurant guy who was preparing to cook some menu special on an outside grill.  We were both looking down at my jeans.  He wondered if somehow something had splattered on me as I walked by the grill.

I got to the car to tell him what had happened.  We went back to the shop just as the owner - Ray- walked up to the door.  We showed him my torn jeans and the bite mark.

He was very apologetic.  He said "Lyla's" life had just changed as now he couldn't trust her to be running free in the store.  He assured me that she had all her shots and offered me money to replace my jeans.

When we told Ray that we thought it would be appropriate to file a police report - he had a dramatic demeanor change.  He begged us not to do that - as the dog meant everything to him.  I told him they would at most probably just quarantine her for a few days and there would be nothing to worry about if her shots were up to date.

With that - the situation escalated and things started to go nowhere fast.  Ray implied that I must have opened the gate to cause the dog to attack - which was not the case.  Our estimation was that Lyla probably had a previous record and this offense could mean the end of the doggie road for her. 

We didn't feel the events qualified as a 9-1-1 emergency - so we left to find a police cruiser.  MRW took me to the lifeguard building nearby to get the wound cleaned out.  He stayed outside to watch for the police - even parked illegally to see if they would show up.  Didn't happen - a slow Sunday at the beach I guess.

I was able to file an official report at the lifeguard station.  They suggested that I get a tetanus shot and a copy of the dog's vaccination records.   We stopped back at the surf shop and Ray said he'd get the records for me the next day.  I need to go get the shot.

What was also disturbing was the thought of what might have happened if a child had wandered through that gate.   Not a pleasant thought - and this story could have had a tragic ending.

So - quite a day of firsts!  Updates to come....

A Necessary "Adjustment"

Remember the chiropractic office where I had the heads-up encounter with little Charlotte?

Long story short (which is difficult for me)...it was not a good fit.  An 'adjustment' was necessary.

Their mission to educate people and help them get and stay healthy was, I believe, strong and real.  Their hearts were in the right place in that respect.

There was a bit of a disconnect in learning/teaching styles between me and the office manager.  But I felt we were compatible - and respectful of those differences - and could make it work.

Even with the learning curve in an industry new to me - I felt confident that with reasonable training time under my belt - the software and flow of the office would become second nature.

After 11 fun-filled days (!) they decided that I probably wouldn't be able to keep up with the 'patient flow'.

It became quite evident to me that "keeping up" meant  "Get 'em in - Get 'em out - and keep 'em moving".  There had better be a prone body on each of 2 adjusting tables at all times!

It was noisy and chaotic - in a 3-ring circus kind of way. 

More like overcrowded pens in the stockyards - or several people jammed into a single section of a revolving door.  Not very relaxing imagery.

Sorry - but a candle burning on the front desk counter doesn't cut it in the ambiance department. 

I thought of my experience when I went for chiropractic care in Minnesota.

It was a calming, relaxing and soothing place to be.  I always came out feeling better than when I went in.


...the disparity proved to be too big of an 'adjustment' for all of us.

So we parted company...and life goes on.

Heads Up From Charlotte

The other day I met Charlotte - a little 3-year-old girl who was with her mom in the chiropractic office where I work.

I told her I thought Charlotte was a beautiful name and that I knew some other Charlottes.

There was Charlotte from "Charlotte's Web" - who was a spider.  

There was a Charlotte from NYC - known as Lot or Lottie. 

There was also my Aunt Charlotte from Iowa - who was called Char.

Aunt Charlotte is my dad's 87-year-old sister.
 
Her home for the past several years has been an Assisted Living facility where - along with her family - she has been living with the many challenges of Alzheimer's.  

About an hour after talking with little Charlotte - I left for my lunch break.  I checked my cell phone for missed calls.  There was a voice message from my mom... 

...her message was to tell me that she had just been notified that my Aunt Charlotte had passed away.

So what was that all about?!  A coincidence?  A sign?  Many people would say it's nothing.

I tend to disagree.  I don't see the timing of the 'Charlotte' connection as insignificant.  I am drawn to embrace the mystery and wonder of moments like these.

Everyone has the capacity to experience wonder-full gifts - if hearts are open to receiving them.

So.....Godspeed Auntie Charlotte.  Enjoy a Highball and a lively game of Smear with dad and all the other rellies!

Thanks for the heads-up!  

The Hugging Chair

I was recently reminded of the day my dad left this world for his next great adventure.

On August 19, 2005 all eight of the Woods kids received the dreaded call - the kind that ends with "you probably should get out here as soon as possible".

Thus began a mass exodus from our various homes across the country to a small hospital in Boulder City, NV.

I booked a flight from Minneapolis, packed a bag in record time - foregoing any idiotic notions to iron stuff, and in just a couple of hours was on my way to Las Vegas McCarran airport.  I was met by another sister who had driven there and was able to pick me up.

My first memory when arriving at the hospital was meeting my mom near the nurses station.

We hugged and she spoke in her strong and stoic way of "handling things" - telling me that dad was unresponsive.

The very next thing she said to me was that the doctor told her that dad would not be aware that we were here. 

My first thought - and first words to her were - "Bullshit - of course he knows we're here."

My next thought was that if he doesn't know we're here at the moment - he will by the time everyone shows up! 

I thought it odd and it made me wonder why the doctor would tell her something like that.  In retrospect - maybe she needed to hear someone assure her that the doctor was wrong. 

Even though I'd seen him recently and knew how several years of illness had changed him physically - it was still a shock to see my dad.

The imposing 6' 2" dad that I grew up with - was now merely a tiny shell of himself - his breathing shallow and labored under an oxygen mask.  I was stunned at the transformation that accompanies the death of the physical body.

It didn't take long for the room to fill up with weary travelers - hearts heavy with the understanding of the obvious.  My memory - more of an impression really - is that we all seemed to try and check our heavy hearts at the door.  When grief took hold - we would leave the room and walk the halls.

Sometimes it just seemed right to be quiet and still.  Other times we held his hand, talked to him, laughed when quipping about a silly memory, and constantly told him how much he was loved. 

Then an amazing thing happened!  As my mom was sitting in the chair next to head of his hospital bed - without opening his eyes - he outstretched his arms and tried to sit up.  It surprised us all and my mom jumped up to help him lay back down.

I told her that it looked like he wanted to give her a hug - and she quickly and gently slipped in between his arms.  

He then lay back down and we all stood there overwhelmed and grateful to have witnessed that wonderful demonstration of love.

We understood the strength that he had to muster to do what he had just done.

Later on - he again lifted his arms and the person sitting by him slipped in for a hug...thus the spot by the head of his bed became known as the "hugging chair".

In between hugs it was like he was re-charging to get the strength to do it again.  We all knew the significance on his special gift of good-bye hugs!

....He didn't know we were there?   BS!

To dear Lisa - who said farewell last week to her 97-year-old Grandpa Malone...

...he knew you and baby Lindy were there...

Old dog...New tricks

I've been too tired to blog....

I didn't really understand how "old" feels until I started the new job.  It's intense and has a high learning curve right now and I'm a bit rusty. 

I have a 4-day work week - which is great - but the days are long. 

By the end of the day I'm toast!  When the body gets tired - the emotions go into hyper-drive.

Including the love and support of friends and family - I have tried to arm myself with some things to help me fend off all the whacked-out emotional surges that accompany change.
 

Sometimes they work....sometimes they don't.  But they are among my first line of defense and I know they will only do me good.

Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself.  I know people younger than I who come across as old and spent. 

What's that expression?....."Ridden hard and put away wet"?

I guess I'm not ready to be called "Old Paint" quite yet....