Okay, I wrote a few days ago about the death of Lisa.  This morning, Annie passed.  She has been struggling with an ovarian cyst for while.  Her sister, Mira, had one back in April, and it ruptured on its own, and she was quite fine afterwards, so I was hoping the same thing would happen with Annie.  However, over the last several days, Annie was obviously more distraught and in more pain than I remembered Mira being.  I struggled with the idea of taking her to a vet, who would probably just  want to put her down, as surgery on such a little creature is often very difficult, though some will do it.  Plus, she did look like she was passing some of the fluid, so it looked like it was resolving itself.  I didn’t want to take the risks involved with anesthesia if she was going to be able to handle it herself.  Well, this morning, she was okay when I left to run errands but had passed before I got home.

Gerbils have an average lifetime of 2.5-3 years.  Females are fertile until they are about 18 months old, though occasionally, one will still have small litters sporatically up through about 2 years old.  I had never bred Annie or Mira.  They were from Vincent and Lauren, but as golden agoutis, they would most likely give me golden agouti pups, and that is the “regular” wild color.  Most people who are adopting gerbils want something “exotic” or “special” looking.    Annie had another problem besides just being the standard color.  She also had seizures as a pup.  That is another reason that she was never adopted – I never showed her to any possible adoptive parents.  I didn’t want someone who wouldn’t know what to do to have her.  I wanted her to stay with me.  I have a firm stance that I will not breed any pups that I am not willing to keep and love for their entire lives, so they had a forever home with me.  I did enter Mira in a few Virtual Shows, and she even won some points, though I had not taken her to an in-person gerbil show, but  I had never entered Annie.

Anyway, I am rambling, the point of this post is not really to talk about Annie, or Lisa, or any other particular gerbil, but to talk about life and its shortness.  The average gerbil lifetime is 2.5-3 years, but some last so much longer, and some have so much less.  And the same is true with people.  Several weeks ago, my mother-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer.  It wasn’t completely unexpected, in that every female on my husband’s side of the family other than his mother, sister and our 9 year old had already been diagnosed with breast cancer.  Some had died from it, some lived through it, but they all had it.  So when she was diagnosed, it was more more acceptance of something that we always knew would happen.  I know that someday my sister-in-law will call with the news that she has been diagnosed, and we will cry, and then we will make a plan.  And I hope that before I get that call from my daughter, breast cancer will have been cured.

The same day that we got the call from my mother-in-law (who will be 70 this fall), we got word from one of our friends down the street that her 13-year old daughter had been diagnosed with bone cancer that day.  It did not run in the family.  There had been no reason to suspect cancer.  She just had pain in her shoulder, and when they did the exam and the testing, it came back as cancer.  She started chemo two weeks ago.  She will have 3 months of chemo, then will have the bone replaced with an artificial bone, three weeks to recover, then 3 more months of chemo.  My husband has shaved his head in an act of solidarity with her.  My mother-in-law is old enough to hold her own if she ends up losing her hair, but a 13-year old…to lose her hair will be the end of life as she knows it. 

Perspective is so different between a 70-year old and a 13-year old.  She will have to give up dance and pom-poms this year.  I doubt my mother-in-law will give up anything.  She had given up most of everything years ago as other things stole her health.  The 13-year old will end up having a home-bound teacher sent from the school, so that she can keep up with her school work, and maybe not be held back.  My mother-in-law will just watch her “shows” and fold laundry a little slower.

We expect the old and the sick to get older and sicker and to eventually die.  My grandmother died this year.  She was 100.  When people ask me, “What did she die of?”  I say, “She was 100″.  She didn’t die of anything other than being ready to move on.  Her body was used up and she was tired of its limitations.  She didn’t hasten its demise; there was no suicide involved or anything.  But, she had sort of gotten tired of living.  It was a peaceful transition for her, and it was not frightening at all to me, or my 9 year old. 

But, we don’t expect the young or the healthy to die.  Somehow, we have in our minds that they are somehow…exempt.  There is nothing farther from the truth.  I remember when I was pregnant with my now 9 year old.  I was sent to the “high risk” doctor, and I asked him flat out, “What are my chances of dying in this pregnancy?”  And his response was that even as a high risk, I was still more likely to be killed in my car on the way to the corner grocery store by a lunatic driver than I was to anything pregnancy related.  That is a scary thought.  I am no longer pregnant (obviously, if she is 9), but I still shop at that corner grocery store, and those lunatics are still on the road.

Annie, my beautiful golden agouti, is gone.  But, I have three breeder couples who will be giving me new pups in the next month or so.  Some of those pups will be adopted by bright eyed children whose parents will end up doing most of the care of those gerbils.  A few of those pups will stay here as possible future breeding stock, and some will just stay here as their forever homes.  Eventually, I won’t think about Annie every day.  Maybe, someday, I will have to look up in the database to see what day she actually died on, and I will be shocked that I didn’t remember that it was the anniversary of 9-11, when so many who were not old, who were not sick, lost their lives, for no good reason.

Yesterday, my Lisa passed away.  She wasn’t a breeder, but she was one of my oldest gerbies.  Her death has me worried about her sisters, Coco and Java.  Coco was never a breeder for me either, but Java was.  A beautiful siamese, she never gave me siamese.  I had her paired with Gandalf, whom I thought was a dove (and therefore should have given me siamese), but I never got any, so I think he was a lilac who just looked light because of the spotting gene. 

I have one of his sons with Honeysuckle, and they had one litter, of which I kept one pup (Annabelle).  I put another son with Peanut, but only got blacks (and black with whites).  Again, not colors that are genetically what I need in order to get closer to more rare colors.  But, I don’t really have a plan, so without a plan, how do I know if I am getting any closer?

What I need to do is decide what I want to eventually put out, then I have to get gerbils with the genetics to get me there.  My hubby wants to blend the Lauren/Vincent line with the Java/Gandalf line, but that doesn’t necessarily give me anything genetically useable. 

Most of the gerbils that came from the Lauren/Vincent line are really too old to breed.  All the females are.  That leaves only males, and even those are really too old, except maybe Bambi or Flower, who are grandchildren.  There are no females young enough on the Java/Gandalf line except whatever comes from Honeysuckle or Peanut (which means Annabelle).

If I put Annabelle and Bambi together, I would get Light Dark Eyed Honey, A*C(cb\ch)D*e(e\ef)G*P*; (BEW) Light CP Dark Eyed Honey, A*cbchD*e(e\ef)G*P*; Himalayan, DTW, A*chch******P*; Himalayan, Very DTW, aachch******P*.  From those, I could get siamese and burmese if I matched with a burmese or siamese. 

I just don’t which way to go right now.

I spent many years working toward my Bachelor’s degree so that I could work in the computer science field, and I enjoy doing computer science work, that isn’t the problem. But, there is something missing. I also spent a lot of time over the years, some official, some not official, learning about healing arts – mostly in the spiritual/emotional realm. I spent a lot of time working in mental health, and helping people work with their mental illness – some of it counseling, some of it just listening. I took a lot of classes in psychology. I also took a lot of classes in biology, and have spent a lot of time learning about medical conditions, so I have also counseled people about some medical conditions that are often very sensitive.

Since I took my full-time job in computer science, I haven’t been doing much of the “other” stuff and I am feeling a void in that area. I am doing some on Jules’ list, but that isn’t really enough. Several years ago (when I was at William and Mary), one of my hallmates introduced me to Tarot.

Since then, I have studied it off and on over the years. In the last couple years, I have purchased several additional decks and have read a myriad of books and studied various author’s interpretations of the cards and their meanings. I have joined online Tarot enthusiasts groups and read their interpretations as well. Through all this, I feel I have gained a lot of insight into who I am and into ways to interpret the cards and how they speak to us about the many facets in our lives.

I want to have a second job where I can use this knowledge to help other people. I don’t have to earn a lot with it. My full-time job pays well enough, I suppose. But any work is worth being paid for. I have put up some information on my personal web page about doing readings. I set it up with PayPal. The prices are pretty low compared to other readers I have seen. I am hoping to get a small consistent clientel. Even if I only get 10 clients that I serve monthly, that would be good. And it would amount to about $50 a month.

Do I think it will happen? Probably not. Not because I don’t do a good job reading, but because I don’t know how people would find out about it. I can’t advertise it at my regular job. That wouldn’t work. I would just have to hope that some people find the page. And with so many pages out on the www now, that isn’t all that likely.

Each year as the winter ends, my heart yearns for baseball. Not professional ball, though that is nice too, but minor league ball. We have a local team – a feeder team for the Mets. We have the Tides. We have a major class stadium, and I love sitting on the first base side and watching baseball.

I have a glove, but I hardly ever take it. Not too many balls come to where we usually sit, and when they do, they are usually too fast and hard for a novice like me to catch. Well, I am not exactly a novice. I played catcher for several years as a junior high and high school student (not a school league, but a youth group league). But still, that was a *few* years ago, and most catchers don’t catch balls like the ones that come our way.

They have hot dogs, sausages with peppers, funnel cakes (my daughter’s favorite), soda, beer (too many overdo with the beer), soft pretzels, ice cream, cotton candy, and of course, cracker jacks. I typically stick with water and maybe a pretzel. I am too interested in the game to spend my time stuffing my face.

I watch each pitch, each swing, each ball. I keep score in my head, even though they have those large LED screens. I do all the charge calls, and sing all the fight songs. I participate in all the “waves”.

I can’t wait for my first game this year. I hope it is soon.

I got a new MP3 player the other day. I had a 1GB that I have had since 2006 and it had been a great little unit – it does everything I need it to do, except that it didn’t quite hold as much music as I would like for it to hold, so a few days ago, when I was shopping for Father’s Day presents for my hubby and my dad, I saw this nice little 4GB with upgradeable memory (it has a mini-SD slot), I decided to pick it up for myself.

Played it at work yesterday, and was very pleased. Then last night, I spent some more time transferring more music after I installed the mini SD (which I haven’t even begun to fill.) My only complaint? The lanyard.

I spent probably an hour trying to get the darned lanyard on it last night (while it was transferring music). It just wouldn’t go through the stupid hole. Then again this morning, I was trying to force it through the hole, using a paper clip and a twisty tie to assist me. Still no joy. I ended up going to the website and searching the forum for “lanyard”. Guess what I found – there was a post from a user explaining that there is a small piece of plastic inside the hole that needs to be popped out before the lanyard can be pushed through. He did it with a staple that he had unfolded. Uhm, yeah. That is something that most people will automatically think to do. “Gee, let me take a staple, unfold it and poke it in this hole in case there is left over plastic that needs to be reamed out before I can insert my lanyard.” Crappy design people! The lanyard hole is darn small enough as it is, let’s not make it even harder to get that tiny little thread of a piece in there, okay?

My lanyard is now in place (I used a pushpin, as I don’t have a stapler – don’t ask why.) I still don’t have all the music on the player that I want to have on there, but it ran out of battery last night before I finished transferring stuff. I will finish tonight. It also has an external speaker, WIFI (in case I want to listen to Internet radio) but I can also use that to upgrade the firmware. I can also use it to connect to Flickr, though I am not sure why I would want to. There are a bunch of other features I haven’t even looked at. I really only got it to listen to music though.

So, what happens to my old MP3? Well, my daughter has lost hers, so I may give her the old one, or I may keep it (it is loaded with exercise music, while the new one has a different mix on it ), so I could still use that when I go to the rec center.

So what type of music am I putting on there, you ask? Mostly “relaxing” music. I have been in somewhat of a blue funk lately. With my grandmother’s recent health decline and then death, I spent many weekends up with my parents helping to care for her, so I was listening to “soothing” music, both in her room with her (though I am not sure how much of it she was hearing that last weekend), and then in the car while I was traveling to and from my parents’ home. I also have been listening to it while I am at work because it doesn’t interfere with my work or bother my workmates. It seems to fit my contemplative mood. Is that good? I don’t really know. It may be a sign that things are just a bit too low, but I have good reason to be feeling a bit low. Surely, I will rebound soon, and I will want peppier music. We will have to wait and see.

What a strange combination.  Suicide prevention training 2 was basically the same thing as prevention training 1, just a review of the same stuff.  The same stories (with different people).  Then they threw in some sexual misconduct stuff.  There is a sexual abuse response team that people can go to anonymously, and they can choose to report restricted or unrestricted – which has to do with whether the authorities are notified.  Either way, the victim still gets counseling and medical treatment.  I suppose that is good – and they have teams for men and women victims.  I don’t want to say it was a waste of 2 hours, but really, there wasn’t much there that I didn’t already know.  I just hope there isn’t a part 3.

This morning, I was part of a meeting at work for a new project.  The project is to create training demos for a program that is being written at work.  Can’t really talk about what the program is.  Anyway, they need some of those interactive trainings where the demo shows the information being typed into the right spaces and then puts up the bubbles to explain when to press the Tab key and such.  Well, I am going to be one of the programmers creating those training demos. 

I have no experience with the program we are making the training demo for.  And we are to use Adobe Captivate to make the training demo.  I have never used that either, but from the very short intro I got to see, it isn’t that much different from Flash, which I do have experience with, so I am not too concerned.

I will also be creating a web page that will have the buttons on it that the user will click to initiate the different trainings.  Hey, it is something to do when I am waiting for my regular project information to trickle in.  Of course, the deadline is September 1, and the first prototype is due next Thursday.  They wanted to have it on Thursday this week, but since I don’t have a copy of the software, and they don’t have any more licenses right now, we pushed the deadline for a week.  Hopefully, I will have a chance to get some of the work done by the end of the week, so that I can think about it a bit over the weekend, and jump right in on Monday.  I do my best work when I have part of it done, and then have a chance to let it germinate while I “rest”.

My first impression is that aging goes both ways. A child starts as a single cell, which divides, eventually forms organs, which start to function, eventually becomes self sufficient (as far as basic life goes), but is still dependent on another for its support and livelihood. Eventually, it learns enough (and becomes strong enough) to become independent, at which time, it moves away from that supporting being and stands on its own.

Then, after some time goes by, the process begins to reverse. The body begins to weaken. Eventually, the person needs to look to another for support (emotional, financial, physical). This stage could be long or short. Then the body regresses even more. The person cannot completely function (their organs still function, but perhaps they need a diaper, or they have Alzheimer’s that is profound enough that they can’t live alone.) Then, organs begin to fail, which mimics the organs developing in utero. Slowly, they lose functioning, until as they near the end, all that is left are the involuntary actions (breathing, heart beat). This mimics the very first few weeks of life in utero, before the person even looked like a person – just a spinal cord and some cells around it. And then, the breathing stops, the heart stops, and the spirit moves on – the complete opposite of conception – commencement of something else – somewhere else perhaps – that soul has been conceived into a new form: a form where it will go through a similar growth pattern, a similar awakening to new life.

Christians believe that after death, there is an afterlife with God in heaven (for those who were just and good in life) and in Hell (for those who were evil). Some believe that Hell is inescapable for the evil; some believe that even the most evil person may eventually atone for their sins and earn eternal life in heaven. I am not going to argue either way right now; maybe I will later.

Why would we insist that “going to heaven” isn’t a type of rebirth? If we believe what Jesus says about heaven, there will be no bodies, there will be no husbands and wives. Yet he says he will sit at his father’s right hand, so there will be some type of perception – some type of form, but it may not conform to our limited 3 dimensional thinking. Perhaps we cannot conceive of it because we don’t have the right senses. Perhaps it is just in a different dimension. One that is just outside our understanding. One that we sometimes get just a glimpse of. It may be the instigator of those “gut feelings”, “mother’s intuitions”, and “hunches”. Perhaps those who are there occasionally do try to contact us from there, and maybe there are some who are more in tune to “hear” from them (real psychics not the fake ones).

So maybe it is the fourth dimension? How would that look? To a 2 dimensional world (imagine an infinitely flat sheet of paper), a ball that passes through it would not be perceived as a ball, because the two dimensional world can’t comprehend that. The two dimensional world would see a point grow to the size of the diameter of the ball and then shrink to a point again.  How would a 4 dimensional object appear to us in this 3-dimensional world?

And, as a three dimensional object, leaves a two dimensional shadow, does that mean a four dimensional object leaves a three dimensional shadow? (Thanks to Bill for this suggestion.) So those people who see what appears to be three dimensional “ghosts”, are those the shadows of the four dimensional beings that the dead have “upgraded” to? Interesting that our ancestors called them “shadows” and “shades”. Did they know something more about the afterlife than we understand now?

Why do people try to keep a terminal patient here? I mean, I can see clutching at straws when it is a child that is dying – someone who had no chance to live a life, or when the death is being caused by some freak accident. My grandmother wa 100 years old. She had lived a very long and full life. She was tired of her body and its failings. She wanted release from it. She was ready to see what comes next, not in a suicide way. Let me make that completely clear. She wasn’t saying she wanted to kill herself. She was saying that she had done all she wanted to do, and that she no longer wanted to be hindered by a 100 year old body that could only go 30 minutes between bathroom breaks, and that got swollen ankles, and had such mangling arthritis that she couldn’t knit, or crochet, or sew or at the end even play cards.

Yet, knowing all this, there were still some who desperately clutched to keep her here. Pleading with her “not to go”, as if she really has much control over the matter. It appeared that all they could see was the change that will be in their lives without her. They didin’t see the burden (guilt) they were putting on her shoulders. Of course, once she wa in a coma, I don’t think that guilt was much of a factor to her. It may still haunt them – that their last time with her was crying and begging instead of something happy.

Now, earlier I mentioned the bit written about the boat.  I don’t remember the name of the guy who wrote it, and of course, I didn’t memorize it either, so this is me paraphasing what I read. 

If we are watching a sailing ship head for the horizon, it appears to be shrinking, but that is only our perception.  The boat hasn’t changed at all in reality.  It is always still the same size it always was.  And when it finally passes the horizon, and we can no longer see it, we say “There, she is gone.”  Meanwhile, on some other shore, there are others waiting, straining to see that first speck that indicates that the ship is coming.  As it approaches, they call out, “There, she is coming!”   And while we weep at the loss of the ship, those on the distant shore are celebrating her arrival.

For us, it looked like she is diminishing.  She never changed.  That was just our perspective.  She will ever be the same as she always was.  She will just be on a different shore.  And though we may weep  now that she is gone from our sight, I know my grandfather is waiting on that shore for her, and others as well.  And they are celebrating her arrival.

I spent 2 hours in suicide prevention training this morning.  Yeah, a good way to spend my time.  Gee, I WORKED in mental health.  I think I know as much as any layman about what to do when someone is considering suicide.  They had an interactive video where they would stop the video and have us (a group of maybe 45 or 50 people) decide what the next step should be.  You know – should we

1. a. Change the subject and cheer the guy up.
2. b. Ask him if he is thinking about suicide.
3. c. Say nothing.

It was pretty darn obvious to me what they wanted us to answer, but in most cases, the answer was that we should have said something different two or three comments back in the conversation. 

Anyway, there is someone at work that I am watching because I am seeing some of the early signs that may lead to a situation later on.  But, right now, I think I need to say Physician, heal thyself.  I am not suicidal.  But I am not feeling all that positive right now.  It is kind of strange.  I am bipolar.  I don’t hide that fact.  And some people assume that it means that the two feelings are completely opposite.  That when one is on the manic side of the spectrum, one can’t feel depressed.  Well, I can.  Well, maybe I am just cycling faster than I used to.  Maybe it is the death of my friend Annie that has me feeling low. 

I am just tired of waiting for a contract offer at work.  It has been the 6 months now.  It was 6 months TODAY.  Okay, maybe I should be more patient, but I am feeling used.  I am working as hard (if not harder) than everyone else.  I am commuting an hour each way.  I have all the responsibilities and none of the benefits.  No vacation time, no sick time, no retirement.  And yes, I know most contractors get paid more than regular employees, but based on what Annabeth was saying, I will get as much as I am getting now (or more) when the contract comes through, so I am not getting a premium for being a contractor for them.  I am just getting used. 

I know the work market right now is hard.  I know unemployment is at 8%.  But this is also a job at a BRACed base.  This base is MOVING to Kentucky.  And I am not going to Kentucky, so I not only have to hope that I get the contract, but also that they will want to let me stay on HERE when everything else moves to Ft. Knox.

I just want some stability.

Out of Africa is a favorite movie of mine.  The title of this post is a well known line from that movie.  Karen Blixen says this when she finds out that she has Syphilis.  She’s been faithful to her husband and he has no symptoms, so this comes as a shock to her.

I got a shock on Wednesday.  In fact, I am only just coming out of shock.  No, I don’t have syphilis.  A dear friend of ours passed away.  I saw her on Sunday, and she was fine.  We chatted, briefly, because I had choir practice and then there was a presentation that I was interested in attending. 

Apparently, she died at the beginning of the week, but wasn’t found right away.  She lived alone.  Her children (she was in her mid 60s) will be having a funeral for her about 2 hours from here.  We will be having a memorial service at our church on the 15th. 

She was the Religious Education minister at our church, which means that she arranged the religious education classes and presentations, she arranged the teachers for the classes, chose the curriculum, that kind of thing.  My daughter is very broken up about this.  She was very fond of Ms. Annie. 

Ms. Annie had a big impact on so many people, but it didn’t stop her from being alone at the end.  We can’t see who we impact in this life.  We don’t know who will be left who will still think about us when we are gone. 

I wonder who I have impacted.