Welcome to my mind

 

When my mind gets really full, sometimes sooner, it's blog time. I feel it and have this insatiable desire to write words down. In many ways, my blog looks a lot like this in my mind:

Ohmygaud, it's hard being new at a new job. Where will I park my bike at work? Try to be self-aware at work. Be there. Don't worry about everyone watching the new girl and giving their own mental eval's. Stay in my lane. Lay low. Do what you're there to do. Hope the farm is okay. What if forgot to shut the horse's gate real good each day? No more talking on the phone during the day. But who talks anymore. Texting has taken the fun out of phone calls anyway. I miss my Stage 5 Clinger doggo, Sugar while at work all day. Yes, I have always been this way with animals. I'm letting the piggies free range with the chickens. Hope that's okay. I know nothing about taking care of pigs. And now the new ducks, they are flying. None of my ducks prior have flown. And the sheep outback worry me a bit, as there's a creek behind the pasture and more predators down there. I love our new kitchen. The farm is more settled than it's ever been. David's next scan is Nov. My race is coming up. Lauren and Ryan are sick and baby Brooks isn't. I don't like being the newbie at the workplace. Can I hurry up and learn everything. Sweet Maybe isn't eating her dog food, and I think it's her teeth. Scheduled appt for teeth cleaning and eval at vet for her, after all, she's over 10 years old now. She can't just eat chicken poo all the time. My chickens. I think one is a secret rooster but does not crow. Wonder what I should do. The silkies do not want to stay in The Little Girl Area anymore, and are in the barn with the Big Girls now. Mini horse Hope is eating too much, I'll need to cut back on her food. The back deck is going to be replaced soon. I'll need to put Tula in daycare those days. I can't hear Lauren on my Apple watch when she calls on hers. Every morning I check my phone and wonder what happened in the world while I slept. And what happened on the farm while I slept. I should call Mom and Dad. I love my freedom on the farm. I love my life. I love that I'm safe, warm and have food. I'm scared for people around the world. It doesn't seem fair. It's not fair. Life is great. Life is terrible. The grass isn't growing much right now so I don't have to mow very often. When the weather is nice, there's less poo to clean up in the barn because the chickens are outside eating bugs and grass. I wonder if David will ever say he's tired of cleaning the barn. Can you believe it's almost Fall? I live in my own little bubble most of the time. It's where I feel safe. It's quiet out here. I don't want to have neighbors next door anymore. Only cows. I love the cows next door. The AC bill was higher than usual. That's odd. Winston's doing great and chasing cats less. David, want to go sit out on the front porch? Yeah, I know it's early but can we call it a night and head to bed early (again) because we can. 

This chatter stops on 3 occasions: 1) If I insist on it and give my mind no choice (intentional stopping of the thoughts in my head) as I'm learning how to be the boss of my mind, or 2) I'm out on a run and just blank out into a zone of nothingness in my mind (pure peace) or 3) I'm asleep. In Eckhardt Tolle's book, he tells us that this constant chatter is what the mind does, and if we practice, we can slow it down and even stop it. I practice that. It's amazing the power we have to have a discussion in our own mind to tell ourselves to hush our minds. I'm in the practice phase for sure. Writing helps quiet my mind and takes it out of my head and places it to the universe. I love it when I can actually isolate that I'm doing this. Only then can I decide if I need to ask myself to calm the chatter down. Cause sometimes, I just let myself rant away inside my mind intentionally. 

Do you remember, never a cloudy day

Thank you Earth, Wind, and Fire. I do remember September. It's Blood Cancer Awareness Month. As each year rolls around, I think about all the gazillion people with the so-many different types of blood cancer. If there's ever a time I feel the need to speak of my own polycythemia vera, I'm never really surprised that people haven't heard of it. And spelling it doesn't really help the people, yet would give them more information for which to google it I suppose. I mean, there's SO many rare cancers. How are people to know these things? How are they to know how it affects my daily life when I don't even know how other PV patients are affected in their own daily lives. PV is tricky that its progression is different for us all, and the lab numbers it throws at us keeps the oncologist guessing as it's a month to month thing. So let's talk about PV for a quick minute in commemoration of Blood Cancer Awareness Month. 

In my particular situation, one (of the many) important matters is keeping my iron at a level where my fatigue is controlled. There are many numbers the oncologist reviews from platelets to white blood cells to of course the hematocrit/hemoglobin and others. Well, managed is a better word. When I need to have blood taken from me (phlebotomy) due to my high hematocrit levels, it steals from other needed-things, like iron. As our biology or A&P class taught us, iron is needed to make red blood cells in a regular person. But for us PV-er's, we don't want too much iron as I'm not supposed to take iron supplements or eat foods with an abundance of iron otherwise that tells my body to make more blood. And since PV is a condition that your bone marrow is churning out TOO much blood already, there's a balance in there that the oncologist tries hard to manage. Think of it like walking on a tightrope. Leaning to one side or the other too much can produce unwanted results. I walk a tightrope monthly to stay upright trying not to fall to one side or the other. One side is extreme fatigue (and other unpleasant things) and the other side is a vascular event (think heart attack, blood clots or stroke). I've already done the stroke thing and it's kind of like touching your hand in a light socket or falling out a window - it's something you don't want to do it twice, and you don't even want to do it once. So I'm working on becoming a tightrope walker, with my oncologist in the lead. We are a team, along with all the other superhero healthcare workers involved in this process. 

What I don't always express to others is how this affects happenings in my daily life out in the world. 

Dog gone, example please

Friday, as I was minding my own business and picking Tula up from doggie day care, something happened that has never happened in my life before. I had come in the front door of the doggie day care business and started to walk up to the front desk and I never saw it coming. Another dog owner and her dog were behind me, and the big dog decided it needed to bite me. It actually bit me on my leg and my arm before she could pull the dog back. I felt it and never saw it coming. It was behind me. I was shocked - and bleeding. This big, black curly haired dog had actually finished its first day of dog training for aggression, of all things and the owner was picking the dog up. Seemingly, it did not have a good day, and decided I was going to be its tasty treat. My leg bite was superficial, but the arm bite needed attention. The staff helped put pressure on the bite site, and I ended up at an urgent care with steri-strips and antibiotics. I learned that dog bites are not often sewn up due to all the bacteria inside, so they pulled my skin back together (the best they could) except for the piece of skin the dog kept, and sealed it with steri strips, and bandaged it up. 

I could tell you that the dog owner and business were besides themselves, as something terrible happened to us all. Nobody was more shocked than me, than maybe the bystanders/customers in that same front office. They were now all huddled up against the farthest wall away, trying to stay safe themselves from this crazy big dog. But what they don't know is that I am on multiple blood thinners due to my blood cancer and therefore I was bleeding everywhere. They have no idea of this information. But it's things like this whereby my condition affects most things in my life - good and bad. Whether it's a cycling accident, dog bite, or just a scrap.....PV is the reason I should be extra careful. Yet, no one really knows this in the moment.....except me. Hence the medical bracelet I wear to alert heath professionals of this tidbit of information just in case it's needed. It may never be needed, but it's there just in case.

Let's fast forward now. When you receive treatment for a dog bite, you are required to fill out a form for Animal Control first. Then, you will be treated. No form, no treatment. I was more than happy to fill out the form and report the dog that bit me. It was first thing the very next morning that Animal Control called me to inform me they would be picking up the dog that day from the owner and quarantining it for 10 days. And after 10 days, Animal Control would call me to verify that it does/does not have rabies. Okay then. Not long after that, the doggie day care manager called and said many nice things and wanted to check on me. They/the owner will pay for everything, etc etc etc. Let's just say that my arm was sore, but yet in 1 week, I have the Augusta Ironman in Georgia and will be swimming in a dirty river for 1.2 miles. With an open wound. I'm really hoping it will be closed up enough to swim, and I'm guessing it will be. There's also lots of first aid dressing options if not. So for now, I'm still planning on participating in the triathlon. I've come this far, it's hard to think a dog bite could deter me. But I'll see how it looks as the days go by this week. Take a look at the pictures below if you'd like to see what a 90 lb dog bite looks like. 

Doubling down on ducks 

What was once the optimal duck scenario:

Huey, Duey and Luey

......has turned into a Dateline episode. On this Dateline podcast we review the details surrounding 2 of the 3 nephews of Donald Duck who show up missing in a mysterious day time drama. Huey, Duey and Luey were last seen in the early morning hours up by the barn eating their usual portion(s) of chicken feed. You see, the 3 ducks do this every morning and every evening. Keith Morrison, who sounds like he's tucked under a weighted blanket with unregulated CBD oil (thank you GQ), goes on to say that by that evening, only 1 lonely duck shows up for their evening meal. 

A day time dilemma. Was it a hungry neighbor? Was it simply a case of ducks gone rouge? Why would Huey and Duey leave behind their bestie Luey? It doesn't make sense now does it. The homeowners, David and Cyndi would lead the search party and eventually called the search off due to weather conditions. Just kidding, the weather was fine. But after searching and listening for remote quacking, it was soon realized that maybe the ducks went out on their own accord and will hopefully come back home when they run out of money. It's known that this type of duck can't fly, so we know they are on webbed foot. 

Sure enough, after talking to all suspected fowl players in the area, there was no sign of Huey and Duey. Luey could be seen circling the pond all alone. Waiting. But there would be no return. Luey knows they are too big for hawks, but simply vanishing in the middle of the day is just not how ducks usually disappear. Since Luey was too upset to quack about it, no charges were filed. All search and rescue has subsided and just like that, in the middle of the day, 2 ducks are gone. Gone I say. 

Something had to be done about this because ducks are a flock animal. So, new friends were located for Luey and waa laa he now has 2 new girl friends. Yes, these girls can actually fly. And yes they are girls so maybe there will be more duck eggs again, eventually. We are hoping the girls do not fly away, as Luey can't fly and would be all alone again. 

Fast friends, 2 white young cutie pies

Luey took to the girls immediately, and the little girls were smitten as well. Then, once introduced up by the barn in a safe area, Luey lured them back to his ducking ways at the pond. 

The girls followed and everyone is living happily ever after for now. Thank you Keith, for that report.

Circling the drain

As David travels weekends during the UT football season, there was another mystery at the pond to solve while he was away. It all started when I went down in the early morning to feed the fish at the pond. While we are trying to grow our fish population, we fight against mother nature. Turtles eating the fish eggs. Cranes actually fishing in our pond. All the time. The cranes actually stand up on the turtle trap and fish. Ugh. These fish are a losing battle, esp as the water evaporates day by day. Yet, David and I keep trying all we can to keep fish alive and growing in the pond. Where was I. Oh yeah, I was throwing fish food out in the pond, and noticed something odd across the pond on the shore line. Wait! Is it one of the missing ducks? Please, I hope it's okay. I zip around the pond real quick like, and look down. It was not a duck. It was a baby crane stuck in the thick mud where the water meets the sticky dirt on the shore. The crane's razor sharp beak was stuck in a piece of the rope holding the turtle trap, and it had wiggled and wiggled trying to get un-stuck and got stuck even further in the thick mud. It was exhausted. 

Those feet are no joke.

At first, I thought it was dead. But no, it blinked. Without thinking that it's a wild animal, I reached down and tried to release it's beak from the rope. The tiny tiny threads of the rope had wrapped around its pointy, long super-sharp beak so much, it was even hard for me to free this crane's beak. After I was able to free this baby crane's beak free, its lower body was half buried in wet gooey mud. After I pulled it out, it just lay limp. Exhausted. I then picked it up and placed it in my now empty fish food plastic container. Now what.

Hummmm, what to do. Okay, I'll take it up to the house and wash it. Yep, I'll wash it and give it a drink with a small dropper. As I carried it up to the house, I wondered if it will live. Once at the house, I place this magical dinosaur, I mean crane, in the new farm sink we have in the kitchen and proceed to wash all the dirt and mud off it. It just lays there doing nothing. I dropper some water in its mouth. It does not seem pleased. Think, think, think, Cyndi. Okay, I'll mix up some oatmeal, peanut butter and honey. I'll try to spoon feed it as it does not seem fond of the dropper.

It's hard getting water and food in this crane's beak/mouth because it's beak is so freaking long. And sharp. If it was alert and healthy, it would have poked my eyes out by now. 

I think you should rest.

I wrapped little baby crane up in 2 towels to keep it warm and try to dry it. I then name it Diny because I swear it's a little dinosaur in my kitchen sink. I continue to spoon feed Diny, and then decide to let her rest for a long while in the sink. Drying, processing what just happened, and rest. Just rest, Diny.

I go about my business and come back to find her perked up. She's trying to sit up a bit. Great, I think. I put my hand down to her, and she reaches one of her legs out to my finger and BAM, her little toes are all wrapped around my finger. And she is strong. I think that her toes might strangulate my finger and so I attempt to peel off her toes, one at a time, from my finger. As I get one toe off, and another, she attaches her toe to my finger again and again. Finally, my finger is free. Okay, I think it's time for this wild thing to get back in the wild. I take her outside in the plastic bin and sun her to dry, giving her more water and food out there. 

Diny is not playing. 

She's looking pretty good. But now she's trying to move about and between her toes and razor pointy beak, I best get her to the pond again. 

After a morning of kitchen sink fun, off we go back to the pond. Diny and I will see how she does and go from there. 

She’s starting to move about 👍

Diny is still unsteady, but she has started to make crazy crane noises and open her long beak really wide at me. 

Diny had the nerve to get sassy with me,
even after our morning together. 
She's had enough of me. 

I already know how strong her toes are and how sharp her nails are. She and I agree that I'll leave her at the edge of the pond and come back and check on her in about an hour. She's starting to walk and move from the brush by the edge of the pond, to the pond and back. Very good. She has water and shade. See you in a bit!

I did go back to the pond as promised, but Diny had flown away. I was kind of sad about that. But I also know she could eat me if she really tried. She could stab that razor sword of hers straight through my heart and leave me for dead. Instead, she left to go find her people own kind. Maybe I'll see her again. Then again, I don't want her fishing in my pond and eating the fish. Either way, I enjoyed our time together, and have a heightened awareness of their majesty and wildness. Till we meet again, Diny.

Baby Farm Animals VS Baby Brooks

This is a toughie, because everyone loves farm animals. And everyone loves a baby, esp an extra cute grand baby. But we'll start with a few Brooks 🥰 VS Farm Animals:

Brooks VS……

Baby piggies 

This face VS……

Lil silkie chick face peeking out from mama

Bright eyes Brooks VS….

Dirty nosed Prissy

Brooks for the WIN every time. He's a month away from turning one year old and I would swear someone is stealing time. 

And so it goes

The mini horses are doing great, as Hope is acclimating more and more all the time, and Dora is as friendly as our dogs. She'd follow you around if you let her. The piggies are esp fun as they make such unusual noises of oinking and snorting. They are beginning to let me touch them, and you know I love that. Let's talk chickens.....

I was able to locate a photo of Brooke as a child

And some things never change ❤️

Speaking of chickens.....Sugar 😵

What's that on your chin?

Gotta keep my eye on you. I see evidence 
of fowl play.

All the chickens are doing fabulous and many are actually molting right now which means the barn and surrounding areas looks like a kill zone with feathers everywhere. Right, Sugar? 

The sheep are living high on life in the back pasture and are back to their usual fatness they once were. They are sweet as pie and always love a petting - esp Belle and Willow. Grace just wants treats, don't let her fool you into thinking she wants some love. The farm is in a rhythm that I've not seen before. It's peaceful, loving, easy and fun. Maybe not everyone's version of fun. It's definitely my kind of fun. Speaking of fun, the triathlon this weekend should be fun. Assuming the dog bite doesn't take a bad turn, I'm going to try and figure out how to swim with it 'not completely healed' yet in a river, whereby I've been told not to do that. I'm just a girl, looking at an owie, convincing myself it's all going to be alright. Every little thing is gonna be alright. After all, we can't always be rule followers. 

Just bending the rules not breaking them,

Cyndi

Pics are below if you care to look. Consider yourself warned 🚩

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After the bite

Day 2

Day 3 and it’s angry. I’ve marked
the redness to monitor it. 
Not to worry, I’m on antibiotics ✅