recovery

a tale of two temporary invalids

We, meaning Isabel and I (Maisie has been happy, healthy, and hungry as ever, thank heavens), have been under the weather these past few days.

Right after I noted that Izzy's been doing great lately, her appetite dropped off and she had a few episodes of vomiting. The explanation, discovered incidentally on last week's routine labs, turned out to be another urinary tract infection.

As for me, after making it past mid-January without a single virus-induced sniffle, I was feeling grateful and just a little smug about the robustness of my immune system. And then . . .

Friday I noticed an increasingly scratchy throat . . .

and Saturday nasal congestion descended like a tidal wave . . .

and by Sunday, I was so achy and miserable and fatigued that any activity except lying in bed sounded like too much to undertake.

But now that Izzy's on an antibiotic and I've had rest, plenty of liquids, and time, we're both getting better each day. Izzy ate all but a few pieces of food in her bowl today. I'm pleased to be more energetic and able to smell and taste again, and I'm newly grateful for (but no longer smug) about that immune system.

just enough

perfect snow

"A light snow last night, / and now the earth falls open to a fresh page."

- Billy Collins, from "Ornithography"

Happy Friday!

We had a beautiful winter day today. Last night about two inches of snow fell, but the morning dawned crisp and sunny. The snow was powdery and crunchy under foot, and as my boss astutely observed, there was just enough to be pretty without interfering with the day.

Last winter, my snow boots sprang a leak (as I finally surmised after noticing the toes of my socks kept getting wet), so I ordered a new pair back in the fall. I've been convinced that my having a brand new pair of boots waiting to be used has been the reason for our peculiarly snow-less winter thus far. I just learned of another person with a new pair of boots, however, and a third who has brand new skis, so apparently the responsibility is shared.

I decided on Bean Boots this time. After wearing them all day today, including for the 3.4-mile round trip between home and work, I understand their fabled status. My feet have been happy: warm and dry, with nary a twinge of discomfort.

stymied

isabel meets vet wrap

Tonight Isabel the Princess Kitty went in to the veterinary hospital for some follow-up labs. She's been doing very well for the past couple months, thank goodness, but was sick in late October with a quite severe kidney infection.

We were lucky enough to get one of the best vet techs today. When Izzy had some oozing from the blood draw site, rather than subject her to several minutes of having her leg held (a prospect of which Izzy was definitely not in favor), the tech quickly applied a pressure dressing using a gauze pad and this marvelous stretchy, self-sticking stuff called vet wrap. She instructed me to leave it on for about 30 minutes.

Once we got home, Izzy, who's never had occasion to wear such a dressing before, was understandably perplexed about the thing on her leg. First she hopped around for a bit on three legs, shaking her bandaged leg vigorously.

When that didn't work, she next applied herself diligently to the characteristically feline solution of trying to lick the offending item off.

Lick, lick. Pink bandage, pink tongue.

Lick, lick, lick.

Pink bandage, pink tongue, pink tummy. (Izzy, who if human might be diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, overgrooms her abdomen.)

"Why so many pictures?"

"How 'bout doing something more useful? Like taking this thing off?"

"Fine. I'll just live like this forever."

"Whew! Finally."

In other interesting medically-related news, I received a call this evening from the Be the Match Marrow Registry. I've been part of the registry for about 15 years, since signing up during medical school, but for the first time, I came up as a possible match for someone. They asked me to fill out a health questionnaire, which I did tonight, and said I'd hear back in three to four weeks if I turn out to be the best match for the patient in question. We'll see what happens!

and there was light

welcome, pretty lamp

I'd had my eye on the Gemma lamp for ages now. Part of her allure for me, I've realized, is her name. What more perfect moniker than Gemma for an old-fashioned, wasp-waisted lady such as she? Those product naming people are wily indeed.

When Gemma went on sale last week "for a limited time," I couldn't help but snap her up. She was waiting for me in the front foyer when I got home today, and right away, even before poor Maisie got her dinner (sorry, Maisie!), I set her up in the kitchen corner for which I intended her.

Such a difference her gentle glow makes in that formerly dim and shadowy locale! I basked in her radiance during dinner.

Dinner, by the way, was leftover pad see ew from Zenna Noodle Bar in Brookline, to which I was introduced last night by my friend, Eileen. If you live around here and haven't been, I highly recommend! Delicious.

the solace of tea

wintry mornings

Recently I discovered Harney & Sons' SoHo tea. The distinctive lilac and black tin first caught my eye - the tea buying analogue of judging a book by its cover, I suppose - but it was upon reading "notes of chocolate and coconut" that I was sold.

Happily, the book lives up to its cover. The tea is delicate and light, suited to porcelain cups, quiet conversation, Chopin preludes. The promised flavors of chocolate and coconut are delectable and subtle. Breathing in the aroma upon opening the tin is an experience in itself.

Mornings these days: Emerge from bed after too many snoozes. Immediately don bathrobe and felted wool slippers. Make quick trip to the loo* (my, that seat gets cold!). Serve breakfast to hopeful, big-eyed Maisie. Boil water; start tea brewing. Give medications to gently grumbling Isabel, who is as enthusiastic about waking as I. Then crawl gratefully back into still-warm bed to sip tea, eat yogurt, solve a Jumble, with Izzy dozing in my lap.

*Use of this Briticism is justified as this post features tea.

restorative

brief reflections on ballet

Happy Friday! The idea for this piece started floating around in my head last fall. One night in late October, my ballet teacher announced that the school was seeking perspectives from adult students to feature in a blog post. That provided the push I needed to finally put my thoughts down on paper. (The web team wanted only excerpts, so just the last paragraph ended up being included on the ballet school's blog.)

Slipping my feet into canvas slippers acts like a quiet switch, shifting my mind into ballet mode. I perform a few simple stretches before class and feel calmer, more focused. I hear the lyrical opening bars of the piano, ease into the familiar motions of the first pliés, and the cares of the world fall away, at least for these 90 minutes.

I believe ballet works its magic in a variety of ways. One is surely the wonderful endorphin surge that accompanies any exercise. Others, however, seem pretty particular to ballet itself. Concentrating on the intricacies of a combination prevents you from dwelling on troubles outside the studio, whatever they might be. Jumping, turning, or trying a new step (while laughing at your own ineptitude) serves as an opportunity for whimsy and a chance to play, both rarities in adult life. And focusing on physical grace and lightness seems to cultivate those qualities internally, as well.

As much as I love ballet, I’m sometimes tempted after a long or frustrating day to stay home rather than venturing out to class, especially when it’s cold or rainy or snowy (or not uncommonly in Boston, all three). I’ve learned not to trust that feeling. No matter how tired my body or dispirited my mood, I can’t recall a single time that I didn’t leave class feeling better than when I came.


(photo by J P Limão, on Flickr)

bounce!

a much-loved hamster

Possibly the cutest pet adoption update we've received to date:

Hi Berry,

Here is a picture of Bounce and me. Bounce is now 10 months old. Bounce doesn't bite. She is a very good hamster. My mom calls her Hammy. Daddy calls her "the mouse" and won't hold her. He says, "He will bite me" - he doesn't even know Bounce is a girl!

Bounce likes to hide in the sofa cushions, and I like to find her. She looks so adorable when she sits on her hind legs and begs for a treat. Sometimes she just wants to play. I play with her everyday.

Berry, do you know if hamsters like other hamsters because I don't think so. I made a clay model of a hamster and Bounce tried to eat it!

Veronica

Berry is an MSPCA adoption center staff member and apparently the one who helped Veronica and her family to adopt Bounce.

Oh, the scorn for that poor dad! Withering.