Thankful Thoughts

The past few days have been less than stellar for me.

Waiting for Ghost Month to end its run and the disturbing developments in the news keep on coming. I really should consider giving up watching television for a while. But then again, how realistic is that? Hmmmm.

I have to make a conscious effort not to foam at the mouth or hyperventilate as I recount the various issues that upset me - usually issues I can't really do anything about. It's a losing and pointless battle, I know.

Having Lupus has been a tiring experience - today, I woke up feeling worse than usual - with my body screaming in various degrees of pain and moving seems to be punishment for not being dead.

It's also been interesting living with bipolar disorder, but I've managed fairly well without medication for a while now, it is only recently that I've been having anxiety issues again.

In this light - I start to think of what there is to be grateful for.

I'm grateful for my dog. Logan is the love of my life. My raison d'être. He makes waking up a worthwhile thing.

I'm grateful for my family. Their support and understanding has been phenomenal and I am so lucky that I was born into this crazy coterie.

I'm grateful for my friends. Lucky that I've been blessed with so many creative, colorful and quirky individuals who I love to spend time with and who always make me feel so blessed because they are in my life.

I was told that better days are coming - and in my sarcasm - I hope that means that all the bad people will drop dead or will all be thrown to the sharks or lions to be disemboweled or ripped to shreds. But all right, to be more reasonable, I'll settle for World Peace. Is that too much to ask?!

The Universe loves me, and I shouldn't forget that.

So, I'm grateful for another day on this planet. Thank you to all of you who make my life so memorable. Your support has been instrumental in vastly improving my quality of life, simply because you are all part of it.

I wish you peace. I wish you freedom from pain and anxiety and of course - I wish you love.

Better days are coming, and I'm sure we'll all be there to enjoy it when it does.

Bittersweet Beginings...

I am happy and sad today.

Whitey, a stray dog that I've been feeding for the past couple of months has been "rescued" this evening.

I first noticed the little straggler on my way to the car one afternoon sometime in December 2013. A mid-sized dog was staggering by the side of the road. I watched in horror as he took a few slow steps, proceeded to retch and throw up a bit of foamy bile and keel over. I was on my way to a friend's house for dinner so I thought that would be the last I saw of the dog.

I was wrong. This dog was a survivor.

Maybe a month or so later, I saw him wandering about slowly near the parked cars along the busy road of the condo where I live. He seemed generally wary of the world, but mobile, so I called out to him - "You're alive!" He only looked at me with a look that seemed to say "I know, right???"

The next time I encountered the White dog, he was sleeping on the landing of the fire escape where I usually hang out. He wakes up, takes a quick look at me and skulks off downstairs. Obviously, used to being shooed off by humans who don't like having him around, I suppose?

In the days that followed, I would see him walking up and down the road while these cars and trucks whizz by. It was a heart stopping and precarious sight to watch. He always manages to avoid being hit by the vehicles and ambles off like he was taking a leisurely walk in the park.

One day, I noticed he had plastic string tied around his neck, a makeshift collar? Not sure if that was a good or bad thing. Another week or so passes that I don't see him around.

The next time I see the dog, he has a wound on his neck from where the plastic rope cut into it. He still seemed fairly calm and meek and I called out to him. He stops in his tracks and looks straight at me. My heart melted.

The following evening on my way out to take Logan for a walk, I put out a small tin of dogfood for the White dog.
I stood there as he slowly came by to check out my offering, which he decided was acceptable. I watched as he took a few bites then took the tin in his mouth and walks a few steps away from me with the food.

This practice goes on for a few more weeks.

By the end of the 2nd week, the White dog would wag his tail happily as he sees me walking up the road towards him. He is usually around in the evening, and has taken to meeting me by the car when we arrive. He also seems to recognize my dad, mom and sister - but he always has his tail wag greeting waiting for me as I walk by.

On days when I don't leave the condo, I head downstairs after dinner to look for the White dog. The guards here, used to me walking out for my rendezvous keep a watchful eye on me as I feed my canine customer. Sometimes when I can't see the dog, one of the younger guards starts looking behind the parked cars with a flashlight to help me locate him.

More often than not tho, the dog is waiting patiently by the side of the building and will walk towards me as I slowly make my way to him with his daily ration. Always the tail wag as a greeting. I watch him eat for a while and walk back upstairs for the night.

Apparently, the old man in the canteen downstairs also leaves food for the White dog which he places along the curb on the other side of the road from the canteen. But always, always, I have him waiting for me or walking towards me each night.

My mom starts calling the dog, "Whitey". Because he is so dirty, a more appropriate name would have been Grey.

I had asked a friend about what I could do to help Whitey - seeing that the wound around his neck was looking worrisome. I was told that I could get him treated but would have to bring him to the shelter in Quezon City which is at the border of Marikina. Not sure how I would pull that off, I had to make do with just feeding him each night and hope that his wound miraculously heals.

One night, as I was on my way out, I notice an empty cage by the side of the parked cars downstairs. Whitey was standing uncertainly nearby, but he waited patiently for me to put out his food for him. There were two volunteers nearby who were apparently planning to rescue him so he could get his wound treated by a veterinarian. They were from Philippine Animal Lovers Society. I place Whitey's tin of food inside the waiting cage and had to head off to dinner.

When I get back a few hours later, the security guard hands me a small slip of paper with a mobile phone number on it. Apparently, Whitey refused to be rescued. The next evening, I pick out a harness and leash for Whitey. I sit beside him as he ate his dinner and afterwards attempted to put the harness on him. He meekly let me put his paws into the harness. he doesn't start to freak out until the leash is put on the harness. Then he starts complaining with a pained yowl. The leash had to be let go and he scurries off and away - harness, leash and all. I spent a sleepless night hoping the leash didn't snag on anything or that no one would detain and hurt him further.

The next evening, Whitey is at his usual spot, waiting for me to show up with his dinner. The harness and leash were gone. The two volunteers from PALS were also there that night. They had a spare harness and leash and I tried to get Whitey to stand still long enough to put on the harness again.

Stray dogs are a special kind of smart. Their survival instinct is so keen that they learn real quick what is good and what is not. Whitey was his usual meek self, but would refuse to stand still long enough for me to properly put the harness on him again. Each time one of the volunteers would come near to help me, Whitey would start to walk away. Rescue attempt - FAIL.

We decide to give Whitey a few days to 'get over'the attempt to save him. We all agreed that I'd keep feeding him and try to attach the harness and leash again after a few days.

Tonight, 5 days after the initial rescue attempt, I hear from the guard downstairs that Whitey has finally been caught.

I went downstairs and stood by the cage where Whitey was. He looks at me pleadingly and paws at the bars of the cage. My heart starts to break. I try to explain to him that he needs to see a doctor to get his wound fixed and that he will soon be going to a loving home where he will never have to worry about his next meal or fear that he might be roadkill or dinner for drunkards. He continues to paw at the bars and starts whimpering.

I've been told that someone has already agreed to take Whitey in after his wounds have been treated. There is a forever home wajiting for him - in Quezon City.

My favorite novel happens to be The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupéry.

Whitey is my Fox. We've gotten so used to seeing each other that I don't know what it would be like to not have him waiting for me each night for his dinner. I keep reminding myself that he will be much better in his future forever home, and that finally - finally - he will get his wound treated. Time to be the better human and let Whitey have his happy ending.

Still it doesn't get easier for me to imagine evenings without the dirty White dog that I've grown to love.

I'm happy that he will get treated, but sad that I won't see him anymore. Selfish, bipolar Babs. I need my meds.

I love you Whitey, thanks for being the brave and sweet dog that you are.

I will miss you.

Be good, you'll be all right. I'll say a prayer for you and keep you in my heart.

My Fangirl Valentine

I am not a big fan of Valentine's Day, never have been, didn't figure I would be.

What I AM though, is a fan of local singer, Sarah Geronimo or Sarah G, as she is more popularly called lately. Yes, THE Popstar Princess.

It was with mixed emotions that I found out that she was having a show at The Glorietta in Makati on - (God Help Me!) Valentine's Day. It being, in my mind, the worst possible day to be at a mall - ANY mall. I was determined to catch the show.

I think I just went and lost my mind.

My mom was more than willing to help me accomplish this, so that part of the plan was set.
We were going to head to the mall early to get parking easily and beat the 'Valentine's Rush".

Up until yesterday, the closest encounter I've had with Sarah G was to watch her concerts at The Araneta Coliseum (sometimes alone if necessary) and at least once with my parents in tow. I also try to catch her show Sarah G, Live! on television. The tv show, although popular, just had it's Finale the past weekend. *Insert Sad Face here*

So that is how I ended up deciding to troop to a mall on Valentine's Day despite the invisible "Abandon Hope All Ye who Enter Here" sign I saw in my head.

A CD purchase entitles you to sit in the cordoned off audience area right in front of the small stage, an "intimate" setting compared to the massive concert venue that is The Araneta Coliseum.

I sat in my wheelchair and made friends with the people around me. I found out that the red stub that came with the CD meant I could get Sarah to sign the disc after the show.

My brain went on neutral.

I didn't think I'd get a chance to actually see her up close!

I tried not to hyperventilate.

As the show started, I was swept up in what felt like a mass hallucination and gave in to the general hysteria of fans around me who were avidly singing along or cheering as the performance took place.

I tried to take photos with my mobile phone, but it was getting in the way of my actually "watching" and enjoying the show, plus I noticed early on that signal jammers seemed to be in effect because I could not get online, so I figured it was pointless to add a photo on Instagram at that moment.

So I put my phone away after a few attempts at mobile photography.

I gave in. I cheered, clappped and sang along with the rest of the "Popsters" in the audience that day. For that moment, I was one of them, and it was splendid!

As the show ended and the audience was invited to form a single line in front of the stage, my new found friends were nice enough to offer to help me find my way to the stage for my turn to get my CD signed.

As we inched along, I looked at everyone around me and was impressed by the fanbase that this performer had. You could feel the love. Some fans had lighted posters, several had bouquets and roses and even stuffed toys to give to their idol. I had just my CD which I was going to get autographed. It was all so surreal!

When I was finally standing in front of the table where Sarah G was sitting, I was rendered speechless as I looked into the eyes of this girl whom I've only seen on television and several hundred feet away on a stage. She looked back at me kindly enough and I managed to say my name for her to scribble on the CD I had with me.

I can see why fans would have a "The heavens opened up and angels wept" moment when faced with someone they admire.

Sarah made success seem more accessible. She was talented, but still so very real. Despite what must be a busy schedule, she appeared serene in the midst of chaos. There were marshals surrounding the table to ensure that the signing went on as smoothly as possible,discouraging photos in the name of expediency. The managers standing nearby were firm, but not unkind. As I smiled at Sarah in front of me, it felt like looking into an oasis in the desert. As I walked off, I told her to give her a dogs (Yorkshire Terriers like my dog, Logan) a hug for me. She nodded back, smiling.

I have gotten teased for being a fan of Sarah G, from friends who found it amusing that I seriously go and watch this singer's concerts or buy her CDs but I don't mind. I enjoy listening to her sing and watching her perform and she seems like a really nice kid on top of all that!

I'll be waiting to watch her movies and will make it a point to see her upcoming concerts and yes, buy the audio CDs. Say what you want, I think Sarah G is Amazeballs!

To quote the screaming fans in the audience - "We Love You Sarah!!!!!" ;-)

Mabuhay!

Zombie Apocalypse, My Strange Obsession

To friends and family who may be concerned (or annoyed) by what seems to be an inordinate obsession with the Zombie Apocalypse, this note is for you.


Mornings are the most difficult for me.

Each day I wake up feeling like someone left a brick wall over me the night before.
Getting up on a daily basis proves to be an ordeal which requires careful consideration and an extra amount of willpower. The chronic pain that is part and parcel of having Lupus has not been the greatest party on earth –
if I could just wake feeling no pain whatsoever, then it would be a near miraculous morning.

One learns to live with the discomfort, but there are days when it just feels too challenging to simply sit up – good thing I don’t sleep soundly and wake up early, it gives me time to stare at the ceiling long enough to convince myself that moving my arms or stretching might be a good idea before I actually need to be up and out of bed.

There is a part of me that knows there will be NO Zombie Apocalypse – that I am more likely to perish from a stroke, heart or kidney failure than battling the undead with an appetite for human flesh and brain. The other voices in my head however, raise a ruckus and goad me to get moving and stretch my sore muscles just in case zombies do invade the country. One never knows, right? So I give in to the other voices for good measure.

The belief that I will actually be physically ready to deal with the Zombie Apocalypse is a dream that I nourish, coupled with a realistic assessment of my physical fitness (or lack thereof) as I figure out what weapon or mode of escape I can best make use of during the onslaught. I practice brandishing my cane like a baseball bat but realize it might be too flimsy to be any good, I keep at it anyway.

It gives me a purpose for getting up and out of bed and stretching the pain away from my body. I also have to get up to make sure that the dog gets his breakfast, but that is a different story. ;-)

In the midst of my fixation with this impending catastrophe, I still remember to look both ways before crossing the street or make sure I watch my step as I make my way down a tricky path or staircase. How can I expect to wield a weapon and use it if I can barely make my way out of anywhere?

Since there are many mornings that the soreness I feel in my joints cause me to walk like a zombie, I might just get away with ‘blending in' with the throng – but this will only work if I douse myself with blood and innards so I will not smell suspiciously alive – not an option I would like to actually have to take. (I saw this on an episode of The Walking Dead and this plan would, quite literally go down the drain if it starts to rain because the downpour would just wash my disguise clean off me.) I obviously need a better plan!

In the meantime, as I fool myself into thinking I’ve got a fighting chance of surviving the Apocalypse, I scour the Internet for stories and tips on how best to deal with zombies. I post photos and signs on Facebook that alternately points out and makes fun of the belief that the Zombie Apocalypse is indeed almost upon us. I remind friends that we’ve got to prepare ourselves by sharing news reports and write ups that have to do with possible zombie attacks.

So yes, it seems silly to worry about it given the many other problems that the country – and the rest of the world – seem to be dealing with at present but this is MY reality and how I choose to motivate myself to get thru another day riddled with painful joints or intermittent dizzy spells is my choice.

I make plans to meet friends, watch a movie or take the puppy out for some fresh air, I still do what most sane and rational people do for recreation – but this need I have to prepare fastidiously for Zombies invading the country just won’t go away.

It’s probably just a phase, but for now, it works. I just have one request = Walang basagan ng trip.*
(*don’t ruin my fun)

Mabuhay!!!

Lessons Logan taught me...

When Logan wants something he will stop at nothing until he gets it.

With a single-mindedness of purpose he always attempts to run off with his favorite 'stolen treasures' - my spectacles, my mobile phone, a ballpen, a scrap of paper, a sheaf of tissue.

Dogged determination. I now understand why that term was coined.

Each time he takes something, he runs like he stole it (because really, he *did*)
When cornered and brought to account, knowing whatever is in his possession doesn't belong to him, he drops it like its hot.

Every chance he gets, he guns for the prize, giving his whole furry being into whatever purpose he's set out to fulfill at the moment. Whether he thinks he owns the item or just wants to play, he knows what he wants.

He is very consistent. His tactics may change, but his goal remains the same.
Impressive for an 8 month old puppy.

My dog manages to get the better of me sometimes and seems smarter than some people I know.

He will find a way to get what he wants, eventually - even when you think he has no hope of getting it. When he sees whatever his little heart desires, he'll bug you for it, keep at it, persevere till you finally give in out of sheer exasperation - or take it when you're not paying attention.

So pay attention.

As in life, it helps to know what you want. If you can set your sights right you go for whatever it is, even if sometimes the path to what you want isn't all too easy.

When you get what you want, run like it's stolen.

If you have something that doesn't really belong to you, drop it like its hot.

Pay attention, you will get your chance to try again.

When cornered, find a way to escape.

Repeat as necessary.

note: Logan also seems to know what things belong to him, and he always keeps them on his bed or retrieves it when he notices it is where it isn't supposed to be. Fascinating. The puppy is more organized than me!

Reasons.

I woke up today.

Feeling every bit like I've been run over by a truck that lost its brakes, another day begins for me.

The pain I wake up to daily is something like a second skin, it is just - there.

Today is no different.

A reason to get up and out of bed is Logan staring up at me expectantly, waiting for me to fix his breakfast.

Must get moving.

I shuffle to the kitchen counter and fix a dish of dog food which is softened with water. I let it sit for a while. I make my coffee and brush my teeth while waiting for the coffeemaker to get done with my drink.

Another reason to keep moving is Logan wanting to play fetch.

He drops his ball at my feet and sits patiently while I slowly bend down to pick up the toy. *Throw*

He scurries off after the prize and runs back to me with the ball in his mouth.
*drops ball at my feet again*

I manage to toss the ball midway through the room where Logan zooms off after it.

I walk back to bed and slowly lie down again. I feel like death warmed over.

Logan jumps up on the bed, bounces off my legs and makes straight for my face.

A good reason to pull a pillow over my face to cover it.

Logan dives under the pillow to try to get a good nip at my ear.

A reason to roll to my side and snuggle deeper under the pillow.

I feel every movement like a scream and all the while I have a puppy waiting for me to give it a hug. I pick him up and cuddle the furry bundle of energy.

You don't notice pain as much when you have a little dog in your arms.

A quick time-check tells me the coffee should be done and Logan's breakfast should be ready as well.

I get up from bed as tediously as the first time and switch on the computer on my way back to the kitchen counter.

A reason to get up early is I don't need to rush too much before I begin work.

A reason to keep going is my coffee is ready and Logan's breakfast must be served.

I sit down at the computer, typing slowly and log in to begin my day's work.

A reason to work - buy more doughnuts, coffee and dog food.

I feel Logan lay down by my feet and drift off to sleep. I watch him settle into slumber like only a puppy can.

The pain I feel in every muscle where even my skin hurts is still there, but I've got a reason to get up today aside from work - there's a puppy named Logan expecting me to play when he wakes up from his nap.

For today, that is enough.

Oh, that's right! It's 2012!

I have been remiss.

My last entry was the beginning of the fourth quarter of 2011 and since then, it appears that life has gotten in the way of my blogging habit.

ok. excuses, excuses.

I must say though, I've been doing my best to keep up with life and the demands that come with it. The fun, not so fun, stressful, exhilarating, awesome, sometimes dreary, often interminable, but always engaging experience of simply being alive.

I've also been kept busy by the demands of raising a persistent puppy - a Yorkshire Terrier named Logan. Many days I firmly believe he is actually a Monk-eroo (a cross between a monkey and a kangaroo) I don't ever recall Tiger (mom's 14, soon to be 15 year old Yorkie) being quite as playful. But my days are full.

I also, as of late, have not been feeling as tip-top as in the early parts of 2011. No cause for alarm, I suppose it is just the course of the dis-ease running right along with me.

2012 has been good so far, I have several things I'd like to share on my blog which we can hope I will get to posting soon.

I just need to dust off the cobwebs in my brain and get my act together.

New friends, new plans, new habits, new experiences.

It was an exciting end of the year and a most intriguing start for another chapter in life.

Life remains good, The Universe is still working things out in our favor (yes, believe it or not!) and I have every intention of having a fantastic year ahead.

Keep me company, it'll be fun!

Rock & Roll people,Rock & Roll!!!

Mabuhay!