Ir rained for quite a while last night. Today is cooler, of course, after rain, and windy. The clouds are scattered and the sun is about to start shining really brightly on my backyard. In another couple hours it will be warm enough for me to go outside without adjusting my clothing layers. Right now, we just have windows open all over the place. The house is filled with pollen. Doc is miserable. I feel so bad for him. He can’t take stimulant decongestants because they make him weird. So he’s spent this week in a Benadryl haze. Me? I’m just glad I’m not actually sick anymore. I’ll deal with the sniffles of allergy season, my allergies aren’t bad at all. They are only acting up now because it has been so warm this month, every bit of flora is exploding to life.
Even in Death Valley. Once every decade or so, the valley blooms with wild flowers. It has been moist, so this is one of those years. I tried to talk Doc into catching a tour bus out there. No go. I tired. What was I thinking? I can’t even get him to the Strip. And it has been settled and spoken out loud, I am not allowed to go down to the Strip by myself. He’s mainly worried about me getting lost on the way home. There is justified reason for that, I do. I don’t know where I live. I know on a map, and I know the address, but there are twists and turns to get in here and I don’t know the route very well.
I want a service dog. A real, trained, service dog. They are $15,000, about, a bit up, a bit down. Plus you have to go train with them for a couple of weeks before they come home. I want a German Shepherd. I don’t like Labradors, which are mostly used for this job. And I want a fierce dog for protection, too. Because just having one is posting a sign that I am vulnerable, and the whole reason I want the dog is so I can improve my quality of life and go out and ride the bus. I toyed with the idea of training Chewbacca, but I need a big dog that is properly trained. Chewy is just too neurotic. If I tell him I need him, he comes right to me and cuddles me, but he can’t get me my medication when I’m freaking out.
I’ve looked around the web. One place offers a $5,000 discount if you are involved with community service. I wish. Insurance won’t put up anything for it, I’m not a vet, so I don’t qualify for financial help. I’m not blind or a vet so there are no foundations I have found that will help me with the cost. And there is no way with 1 page hit a day am I going to crowdfund $20,000 ($ to cover training trip included in that sum). I’m not sure what to do. Quality of life is important, but my going outside the house is not a treatment priority to Doc. He has gone to hell and back to give me a large, comfortable, well furnished home with everything I could possibly want or need. I am very comfortable here. He has worked hard, and it has paid off. And I am grateful for that, oh so much. I just want to go back to readings, exhibit art, get back into public photography. And that cost of that is $20,000. I can’t even imagine that sum of money.
I ordered my materials in the middle of the week. I forgot there will be a shipping delay over the weekend. I am sad.
Boo is doing well with her new soft-food diet. After a couple of days on it, she even ate a crunchy cat treat last night. She’s so grateful to have a full belly finally that she is even more all over me. I finally got her to calm down and lay down next to the dog for a while so I could write this. I have to clip her nails today so she can make biscuits on me without me screaming.
The two year sore on my nose has reduced to a small red dot. The scab came off when I blew my nose this morning, and I’m praying it doesn’t scab back up. I want to be rid of this sore. The scars are bad enough without an open wound on my face. I really don’t make a good first impression based on my looks. Good thing I’ve got a nasty disposition and sarcastic manner or I wouldn’t have any friends.
That lottery winning couple in Florida seem really nice. I love them, I’m glad they won. I hope they keep their heads on and are able to live long and enjoy the money and it isn’t a curse or something on them. That’s so cool when nice people get stuff. It makes me feel more at peace with the Universe. Not because I think things should be all Karmic, or anything, it’s just nice.
That reminds me, recently there was a casino robbery here. Usually that just consists of some douchebag grabbing a couple handfuls of chips off a table while the dealer is busy, and then running for the hills. This guy took his money, got cash for it, and spent it all in the day or two it took to catch him. Hookers, blow, booze and gambling. That’s the way to do it, I guess. If you know you’re too stupid to get away with it, may as well enjoy your last bit of freedom. Yeah, he’s gonna be somebody’s bitch. “Hookers and blow this, motherfucker!” HA! Okay, sometimes the Universe is all Karmic and shit.
The Link: Curing memory deficit in schizophrenics. “The compound was able to successfully rescue the normal connection-building processes in the mouse subjects, resulting in significant improvements to their working memory abilities. Their brains rebuilt themselves.”