Welcome to Holland

 (Again, a probable repeat of an old blog title based on a very good post by a parent of a disabled child - describing how, although you may have WANTED to go to France Italy, you wound up in Holland and have to make the best of the situation)

As a veterinarian, I am often asked to name my favorite species, which is grossly unfair! it’s like asking a mother to name her favorite child… I love them all dearly, but I do have a soft spot for the reptiles & amphibians. Generally had to do “catch and release” when I was a kid, because my mom wouldn’t tolerate slimy or scaly creatures in the house. So I had short stints with a bullfrog, red-eared sliders and a couple of box tortoises (mom was snake-phobic; when I got my boa constrictor in college, she wouldn’t set foot in my room for 6 months). Then married H1, so I was out of the house in short order anyway!

I met Michael through a herpetology club of which he was the president at the time. He had a closetful of snakes when I met him, but had to rehome a lot of them when apartment management raised objections. Over our years of marriage he lost interest, and our reptile collection dwindled as we concentrated more on the equines. Must be something in the bloodlines, though, with Zach developing “the itch”!?!

I’ve always cast an eye upon our beautiful pond, thinking how much I’d like to see an alligator swimming there. The problem would be partitioning him/her off from the rest of the critters: I don’t want horses to be bitten or dogs to be eaten. I have puzzled out the engineering of artfully fencing off the shallow end of the pond - the problem is creating something flood-proof.

Here I need to insert that Chinese character which is translated as “danger + opportunity”; the game warden confiscated a baby alligator that some fools were keeping in a 50-gallon aquarium tank at a restaurant in Lancaster. So she was being fed chicken nuggets, french fries and other assorted junk foods. The poor thing has severe nutritional deficiencies (metabolic bone disease) so this will be a real challenge to even see if she can attain any decent quality of life. Peran is grumbling about “another damn reptile” but honestly, what did he think life with a veterinarian was going to be like?? She is the very definition of an attractive nuisance so I can’t set her up at the clinic; she’ll have to stay at the house and I’ll transport her back & forth for her treatments.

Meet Aphrodite (I may change her name, but for now I just love love love this poor pitiful little creature)  - photos are loading too slowly so I’ll update later

“Welcome to Holland” by Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It feels like this.....

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?!" you say. "What do you mean Holland? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around....

and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills.... and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy.... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned." And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away.... because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things.....about Holland.