Thursday, December 20, 2007

A dog of many names


My dog's name is Oscar. Before that, when he was behind bars at the humane society, his name was Luther. Before that, until he got picked up as a stray, his name was probably Bowser or Rex. But now his name is Oscar...sometimes. We call him a lot of things. Here are the names that come to mind...

Oskie
The Black Sausage
Princess Penelope the Tranny
Laura Ingalls
Fartbag
Stinkwad
Yoctif
Yoctif Guacamole Pants
Wiggle Butt
Black doggy dog doggy dog doggy doggy (you have to say it as fast as you can)
Turd Ferguson, Jr.
Honkus
Babalou
Snooter
Oscar P. Mayer
The Grump
Weiner Dog
Grumbles
Pat Sajak
Flapjacks
My Nigga Q (from a DMX song)
BLACKIE! (you have to yell it)
Turd Burglar
Turd Bomber
Fuzzy Bumper
Shrimpie
Cap'n Shrimp Pants
Hound of Baskerville
Scooter McGavin

And, of course...
Pants
Panits
Panananits
Oscar Pants MacDougall-beiss
Panteus the Black
O. Pants Shyamalan
Pannity and Colmes
Pants pantsy pants pantsy pants pantsy pantsy (again, as fast as you can)
Pants de la Hoya
Jazz Pants (when he's all jazzed up)
Snow Pants (after a romp in the snow)

That's just the 40 that I could think of off the top of my head. I'm sure there are four or five more. Does this automatically mean that our child will be screwed up? I hope not, but I think so.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Coolest ultrasound picture ever

We went for our second fetal ultrasound today, on the first day of Week 18 of pregnancy. It was amazing to see everything. We could see every bone - spinal column, arms, legs, skull, eye sockets, sacrum, hands and feet. We got to see all parts of the brain - cerebellum, cerebral hemispheres, ventricles (I felt like I was in neuroanatomy again, looking at slides). There were internal organs - heart, kidneys, stomach, bladder, and I think I saw the liver. Fortunately, we weren't capable of determining the sex yet. I don't want to know, and Michaelene thinks she does. But the baby wouldn't cooperate enough to get into a good gender-deciphering position. We saw some wiggling, a lot of curling up in the fetal position, some arm-flailing, and at one point the baby was reclined with one leg kicked up in the air. And then, saving the best for last...just as we were about to end the session, the sonographer took one last look at the left arm and the baby gave us a thumbs-up, then waved goodbye.

Word...

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Sometimes Greg doesn't have good ideas







Today I ran in Johnny's Irish Pub's "Run Like Hell" 5K race. It's a fundraiser for cystic fibrosis that they've done each of the past 10 years. They do it around Halloween and encourage people to run in costume. Prizes are given for individual costumes, as well as team costumes. Some of the winners this year were Hugh Hefner and his Playboy bunnies, a chain gang of five that actually ran the whole race tied together with their hands behind their backs, and a guy that ran the entire race in a Darth Vader mask (may the sweat be with you). Greg, Charity, and I ran together, and thought for a couple weeks about what our team costumes should be. Some of our ideas were Mario, Luigi, and Princess Toadstool; Castro, Ahmadinejad, and Kim Jong Il; and the Blue Man Group. I thought Blue Man Group would've worked well - basically black sweatsuits with blue face paint. But in the end Greg was deadset on running as the "office staff," with the three of us wearing suits to run. We went to Goodwill the night before to pick our suits. We all found gray suits, and I wore a pink shirt and tie under mine. I could sense the oncoming disaster as I paid $14 for my Johnny Carson special. I sweat a lot wearing shorts and no shirt. So you can imagine me wearing a tie around my neck and three layers, the top of which is entirely non-breathable. I felt some hope the morning of the race. It was overcast and in the low 50's, raining off and on. But sure enough, by race time, the sun came out and the temperature was in the 60's. Most other people were in costume, but wearing something reasonable for running. As we ran the 5K together, bystanders would see us and laugh at our costumes, like they did with everyone else. But there was always some comment following the laugh, remarking at how bad of an idea it must be to run 3.12 miles in a suit. I agree. By the end, I smelled like an awful combination of old, musty library books and a sweaty gym sock. Here are some before and after pictures.

The threat to secularism

I don't know if anyone even reads this anymore, but that's immaterial. As I wrote in one of my first posts on here, this is more for my own catharsis, and hopefully someone else will read it too and maybe get something out of it.

I find myself compelled to pass along something I've read recently, which hopefully helps to combat and shut up a sector of the population which I find it difficult to believe is growing larger, but perhaps only growing louder. It's not a new phenomenon, but likely a magnified one in this post-9/11 era. The Religious Right's hijacking of our government seems to me to be the end of a truly free society. While using propaganda to spread their message of hate, bigotry, misogyny, and racism (among other great ideas), they have infiltrated the ranks of government in the form of our illegitimate president. They continue to buy votes favorable to their twisted cause with huge campaign contributions, all the while guaranteed of preserving this buying power through (1) tax-exempt status as a charitable and not-for-profit organization and (2) "faith-based initiatives." Government handouts to rich white men, while their Republican delegation in government steadfastly oppose welfare and social programs to help those in actual need. Oral Roberts, televangelist, once proclaimed on air that God would kill him unless he raised $8 million. And the sheep fell for it and paid it to him. $8 million, tax-free.

And while we are legally a secular society, protected by the separation of church and state, the Religious Right claims that we are a Christian nation, founded by Christian men on Christian ideals. They use this to further push their agenda of xenophobia. This is the part I felt compelled to type out and pass on, several statements by our Founding Fathers (many believed to actually be deist, agnostic, or even atheist):

"Christianity is the most perverted system that ever shone on man" - Thomas Jefferson

"During almost fifteen centuries has the legal establishment of Christianity been on trial. What has been its fruits? More or less, in all places, pride and indolence in the clergy; ignorance and servility in the laity; in both, superstition, bigotry and persecution." - James Madison

"Lighthouses are more useful than churches." - Benjamin Franklin

"This would be the best of all possible worlds, if there were no religion in it." - John Adams

And in 1797, in Article 11 of our treaty with Tripoli, written under George Washington, signed by John Adams, and unanimously approved by Congress: "As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion; as it has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquillity, of Mussulmen; and, as the said States never entered into any war, or act of hostility against any Mahometan nation, it is declared by the parties, that no pretext arising from religious opinions, shall ever produce an interruption of the harmony existing between the two countries."

And in conclusion, one of my favorite quotes of all time:



“If there is a God, atheism must seem to Him as less of an insult than religion.” ~Edmond de Goncourt, 19th century French writer

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

North Country Nicknames

This summer Michaelene and I stayed for a week with my parents up on Chateaugay Lake. It was her first true visit to the lake, with the exception of one boat ride four years ago. I got to see and do just about everything I'd put on my 'To do' list before leaving. We took the canoe out (with Oscar aboard) to picnic on the island. I took the kayak up the South Inlet and Owlyout Creek as far as I could go. I went fishing with my dad and also went out to see the Indian burial mounds I'd been told about. We also went up to visit my Aunt Maggie and to see her horses. While there, Michaelene pointed out something that I guess I'd never really noticed: the fact that almost everybody in the North Country has a nickname. I started thinking about it, and she was right. (Although, the only real nickname I've ever had was given to me at college in Ithaca) So I decided to sit down and make a list of all the nicknames I could think of. Between my father and me, this is what we came up with:

Family members (12):
Uncle Bubby
Uncle Tiny Gilmore
Aunt Huldy Gilmore
Aunt Tootsie
Dooger
Frog
Poncho
Rib Pageau
Buddy Pageau
Red Perreault
Wedge Trombley
Wheels

People I went to school with (36):
Buddy
Beaver
Pecker
Wheels
Fudd
Flash Bosley
Pudge
Iggy Yanulavich
Chickenhead
Poundcake
Bushwhacker
Hambone
Buckshot
Gebo (it's not his name)
Jonas Magee (also not his name)
Guido
Skeeter
Skippy
Popa
Beavis
Psycho
Pickles
Mini Robare
Chester
Choo LaClair
Choo choo Forkey
Filbert
Bubblehead
Booger
Tank
Willow
Half pint
Boots
Wheezy
Tiny
Chia

Other people (40):
Vess Pivetta
Slavin Chase
Zippy
Peanut
Bighead
Toto
Bear
Wacker
Bonhomme
Birddog
Snake
Gump
Plink Terasavich
Frenchie Martin
Flip Brunell
Prune Brunell
Nubby O'Connell
Crusher O'Connell
Duck Manor
Crow Manor
Goose Manor
Crab Abbott
Skeeter Thompson
Jumbo Sorrell
Chewie Sorrell
Bimbo Woods
Pecor Bessett
Frenchie Siskavich
Duke Chase
Porky Bingel
Henny Penny Chase
Bugs Chase
Bubbick Golovach
Huck Chase
Hoss Manor
Pip LaFountain
Jungle Jim Lacey
P-eye Perry
Foxy Gagnon
Goose Gagnon


Those were just the ones we could come up with, without thinking too hard. There are probably more that we've missed, but that's 88 so far. Keep in mind that the combined population of Ellenburg, Lyon Mountain, and Altona, where most of these people live(d), is only about 5,000 people.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Maybe we're not so far off from monkeys after all...

I'm very sorry for it, but I had to put this in. Unfortunately these last two posts are both a bit gross, but they needed to be shared nonetheless.

This is why, as a physical therapist, I've opted to transfer from the inpatient acute hospital clinic to the outpatient orthopedic clinic. This one 70-something year-old guy I've been working with in the hospital was entirely independent and living on his own until he developed diabetic ketoacidosis, which has made him so utterly confused and demented. He's very friendly, always smiling and talking to everyone around him. But he has no idea where he is or what's going on. Anyway, today as I was reading through his chart, I found this note his nurse had written the night before...

"Patient was caught playing in his stool. Patient was encouraged not to do that, that it was inappropriate. Patient agreed. Will continue to monitor."

And that's why I have to leave...

Saturday, April 22, 2006

So today I stuck my finger in my dog's ass and almost passed out...

Just another Saturday morning in Penfield, you might say. Not really, I would say. About a month ago, I took Oscar to the vet for his annual check-up. The vet said that everything looked great, except that the reason he'd been licking his butt and scooting everywhere was that his anal sacs were full and not able to empty on their own. She went onto explain how dogs, like skunks, have small glands just inside their butts that emit a small amount of fluid, either when they poop or when they become extremely frightened. It's one way they mark their territory. But sometimes, for different reasons, the glands are unable to empty on their own. When this happens, you can help "express" them by putting a gloved, lubed finger inside and squeezing the fluid out. On top of the awkwardness of doing this to your pet, there is also an unbelievable odor that goes along with it. So on that trip to the vet, they brought Oscar in the back room and expressed his anal glands for us. She then explained that some dogs need this done just once, but that sometimes it will have to be repeated every few weeks. So if we noticed him licking and scooting again to bring him back in.

Well he did start licking and scooting again. Faced with the possibility of having to pay to have this done on a regular basis, I did my research on the internet and found that a lot of pet owners learn to do it themselves to avoid the expense of monthly trips to the vet. I figured that working in an acute-care hospital had toughened my senses enough to allow me to do this myself. Heck, I change adult diapers and wipe 85 year-old butts every day. I've dealt with sights and smells that no one should be exposed to.

So we went in this morning at 10 for the formal instruction. Michaelene resisted going, but finally I convinced her that if I had to do this then she had to at least be there to hold him still and calm him down. Once the vet joined us in the exam room, I lifted a reluctant Oscar and put him on the exam table. Dr. Jones went onto explain the procedure, of which I will spare you the details. She demonstrated on one side for me, showing how you should use the thumb and index finger. No problem, I thought. I can do this. My turn came next. I put my finger in and felt around until I found what I thought was the overfilled gland. Then I noticed that the rest of the room was slowly starting to look a little foggy. The vet was still talking, but I could no longer hear her voice. I felt a little flushed, then warm, then hot. I sensed the sweat beading up on my forehead. Things were not right, and they were getting worse. Finally I pulled my finger out and interrupted the vet in mid-sentence, saying "Yeah, I think we can just bring Oscar in to have you do this when he needs it." She was very nice about it, explaining that it can take some practice. Again she demonstrated the procedure on the second gland for me. I smiled and thanked her, but reinforced that we'll probably leave it to her in the future. She sprayed Oscar's butt with some doggy-deodorant, then lit a large candle in the room to mask the smell. As the clean-up was going on, I went to the counter and paid for our visit. Then we left, Oscar and I both feeling violated and somewhat defeated, our heads down and tails between our legs.

So what did you do with your Saturday morning?

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Jen Peck is Super Cool!

Since she would never ever ask me to say this, because she is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too cool for that...I find myself wondering why I feel compelled by some unseen, unknown force to mention Jen Peck's unbelievable level of coolness. I mean, when you stop and think about it...wow. That's all you can really think, 'Wow.' The words 'wow' and 'Jen Peck' seem to be espoused on some level that is not quite tangible to the the rest of us average people, but is recognized by all with a silent understanding. She's so cool, in fact, that anyone who has the incredible luck to even walk past her on a crowded street can sense it without even knowing it. This person may go on to cure cancer or solve the Goldbach conjecture, and wonder where they got the ability to do so. They may not know, but Jen knows. Because wow, she's cool...