March 15, 2022

I was expecting to be covered in dogs when I opened my eyes...all anxious to be the FIRST to wish me a Happy Birthday. Instead, Steve was corralling everyone demanding they "leave it." From the hallway I heard the sound of somepup (Opal) vomiting. "So, this is how it is going to be, you Lords of Cosmic Jest? Well, BRING it."

The house stood absolutely still. I have been warned before about letting my anger overtake good sense; EVERYONE knows not to challenge the gods. All we could do now was to stay flexible and ride through whatever came.

French toast is a treat this diabetic generally only dreams of. Even made the way favored by my Hungarian grandmother,. served crispy on the edges and sprinkled with salt pushes my blood sugar levels. I had planned to treat myself and carefully ate carb-free the night before so as to guarantee a lower than normal morning glucose reading.  The blood stick rendered numbers even higher than normal, an outlier that happens on occasion, but high enough to dash my special breakfast menu.

Mid morning, Bailey was sharing time cuddled against me on the bed. She seldom wraps herself around me and this was a delightful gift. Steve interrupted us to ask, "Is my forehead bleeding?" I looked up at his face with blood streaming from a gash in the middle of his brow. "Can you grab the antiseptic cream, the steristrips, some cotton pads, before you faint?" Was my response. Bailey moved so he could lay next to us for triage. The inch long gash was bleeding freely and was a deep wound. It was just shy of needing an ER visit. "If the bleeding does not stop or this starts to swell you ARE going to go," I cautioned and was seconded by the entire WDA who had rushed in to provide nursing assistance. 

"OK," I muttered to myself. "I HAVE had more celebratory birthdays." 

Diva became clingy and whiney, whether as a reaction to Steve's injury or something unrelated was never determined. She seemed ok physically after a thorough check of limbs and squeezes of torso. Her gums were a healthy pink. But she REFUSED treats and seemed unable to jump on Steve's lap. "Oh geez, let's keep an eye on her. Maybe she pulled a muscle. Let's see if she shares your special dinner and ice cream; if she doesn't we will need to call Dr. Julia to get her in tomorrow,"  we agreed. (She joined the party and is fine on Wednesday morning).

Steve made delicious steak and chicken fajitas, guacamole, and warmed a black bean calabacitas enchilada dish from our local Farmers' Coop for my birthday dinner. We almost could not smell the onions that were forgotten until their browning became more like charcoal. Scoops of vanilla ice cream dusted with cinnamon allowed us all to step away from the day's bad mojo and focus on the important things: being together no matter what. Always. 

Thank you to so many of you who provided smiles across the day with your birthday wishes and thoughts. You provided a powerful counterbalance to the Lords of Cosmic Jest.