Dogma in Distress

Mind Combings 4/28/11

Dogma in Distress

            Nothing like turning on your computer to make your problems and dilemmas shrink down to lint pickings. Today’s headlines show the collision of staggering grief and fairytale wonderment: the killer tornadoes rampaging through the plains and southern states versus the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.

            I wonder if the obsession with the wedding serves as an emotional safety valve for us media-weary people who have to process the Mass Tragedy du Jour all too many jours in a row. No, I personally am not obsessed with the wedding—I may forget to even watch it—but I will make the attempt, as history will be in the making.

            So turning the giant spotlight into a hearth candle, our personal joys and worries are still here to greet us as we detach ourselves from screens. Mine’s name today again is Raphael.

Maybe I should have named this dog “Enigma.” Yesterday his new veterinary internist (in Atascasdero) listened with her head leaning over her shoulder gazing down at Raphael. I recounted how Raphael had just not snapped out of his trough for the past ten-twelve days, how no therapy seemed to be doing much except in the symptomatic short term.

“So, shall we do it?” She verbally threw up her hands. “Shall we pull him off all of his meds and see what happens? Because I agree with you, Maria. With nine or ten different meds going into him every day, probably none of them is working.

“That is my working theory, unfortunately,” I nodded.                                

“You could leave him here (at their 24-hour hospital). It’d be better. We can observe him closely, and then I will be able to determine which drugs he really needs.”

“Agreed. But not today. How about Monday, when you are in four days straight?”

“Bring him here Sunday night. You can have him back Thursday afternoon.”

            Since then, I have felt an emptiness, like a huge vacuum sucked out my innards, leaving only my battered heart. But I am determined to do this. The price is excellent and the results will tell me a lot more than using that poor dog as a hazardous drug-dumping receptacle. It may give him a better shot at a higher quality of life. Good enough for me.

            So after many self-inflicted maternal guilt trips, I have also decided to spend Monday through Thursday morning in the Bay Area.  I vow to enjoy myself with my beloved Bay Area friends. But as national and world news unfurls, I will be nursing my own little private bubble world, alternately cheering it on and praying it doesn’t burst.