Monday, February 12, 2024

It’s The Little Things

 In many ways my first job was nightmarish, but I learned a lot and, in retrospect, it was an experience I’m grateful for - helping me become the veterinarian I am today! I worked at the oldest continuously operating veterinary clinic in Dallas: Rutherford Veterinary Hospital which sits on the edge of Fair Park. I was introduced to the music of Robert Earl Keen which was one of the bright spots of my youthful experience - this was one of his songs, a playful, folksy ditty proclaiming: “It’s the little things you do - that piss me off!!!”

I’m convinced Peran doesn’t process information in the same way you or I do - whether we want to write this off to “neurodivergence”, which seems to be this generation’s favorite new buzzword, or not - regardless, I doubt if I’ll ever be able to teach the man to communicate effectively? Victoria’s grandfather is starting radiation treatments for his tonsillar cancer; I wanted to take them out before miserable side effects overtake him. But poor Adela (his wife) is still creaking around on her walker (hip fracture just prior to Xmas) so I wound up picking up Chinese food to take to their house. Peran was out & about running his errands, so I texted him the menu with a notation “Please place your order”. Thankfully he called me to ask questions instead of calling the restaurant directly - of course, I wanted to place one big order, isn’t it clear to anyone?!? Especially since I had told what I planned to do (deliver dinner since they weren’t up to venturing out) - can you imagine the god-awful, confused mess it would be if the six of us each called in individual orders?!? The only thing I messed up was failing to order the eggplant dish that Zach had requested, but other than that I think it turned out well. Andy ate with great vigor, and I gave him all my pro tips for getting through his radiation treatments. He’s gonna have it worse than I did since they will be irradiating his pharyngeal area. When I had my initial, fairly primitive round of scattershot radiation treatments to my neck in 1989, I was living off Wendy’s Frosties for those last couple of weeks (I had a miserable sore throat), but in the end I only missed two days of work. I would take an extended lunch hour, drive to the hospital to get zapped, and get back to work.

I’ll be taking Bo down to Texas A&M Wednesday evening so they can get started bright and early Thursday morning with tests and scans to see what can be done for my sweet boy. It rained all weekend so I didn’t get to ride and I don’t have time to get into the misery with my mom either (I did get her to shower which was quite the ordeal)





4 comments:

  1. My first REAL job was nightmarish too. I worked for $0.67 an hour in 1970 as a combination soda jerk/short order cook/waitress/dishwasher/store clerk at a Walgreen's drugstore. Did I fail to mention these jobs when I made my list of jobs I never wanted to do when I grew up? If I didn't add them, then please do now!!!! This list has the potential to get very long. I couldn't even afford to eat any of the food I made and served to others!! The "pharmacist" was stoned on Paregoric all day. The pharmacist was my introduction to drug addicts! My parents had warned me about them but I had pictured a different venue. I was harassed, every day, by the most vulgar, greasy state trooper on the planet and his sidekick - a local cop. If the trooper had ended up dead I would have been at the top of the list of prime suspects!

    I thought the Rutherford Veterinary Hospital looked nice but I have know some Rutherfords in my time and they were sleaze balls.

    Now the song, by Robert Earl Keen, I totally LOVED. It arrived timely. I had just gotten back from driving Benny 42 miles to get his labs done while he critiqued my driving and I almost sang the exact same song to him, though I titled mine, "STFU, you A-hole, or die!" Benny did not love Robert Earl Keen or his song as it was written about people like him and he sensed that. Sometimes I am surprised when he can actually reason that he is getting ready to become a greasy spot on the asphalt.

    My experience with men is that they have no processor. If they do they are running Windows 95. Good grief. Tonsillar cancer. My MIL had tongue cancer. So creepy!

    I hope I never reach the point where I don't want to be clean. If that is in my future then kill me now.

    Come on Bo - be okay!

    Loved the memes. I never see hay that I don't think of my son. A farmer lost a couple bales of hay off his truck in our front yard and our son was deliriously happy. He thought it meant he would get a horse as he had horse bait. LOL.

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    1. I remember that "horse bait" story! As expensive as hay is these days, if it's feasible for me to scrape some off the road when similar mishaps occur, I certainly will! Although all too often, it's a round bale that has disintegrated beside the interstate, and there's no practical or safe way to salvage it...

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    2. One of the neighbor's horses did get loose one time but, of course, it was not going to be "finders keepers - losers weepers. LOL. I wonder if all children go through a horse phase.

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  2. LOL at the terrible towel. "not even in Pittsburgh's colors"

    All I can say is you are one tough lady, surviving radiation therapy and working the whole time. Of course, my big sis did the same thing, but I am in awe!

    Got my fingers crossed for Bo, and you, and your mom! And Peran, too.

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