Life With Freyja Monster
She's settled in nicely to Casa Dominik, though her disruptive nature is utterly belied by that face. What a darling cutie, but my God what a monster. She enjoys us, and really enjoys getting outside. The idea may have been successfully planted in her regarding the outdoor bathroom situation. We will be working on it for at least another few months to reinforce the idea, and get a good, solid read on her signs, but yes, she's a smart little girl.
Where she needs some improvement is on our walks. She is slightly better behaved for my wife, for me, she's a dead weight tugging at rapidly-changing vectors on that leash, in her mouth. Her's, her sister's, it matters little. That leash only slightly serves to keep her close, it is one of her favorite tug toys. The actual tug toys? Well, they're certainly good to chew on, but not much for tugging.
And then there's the depredation she's encouraged throughout the house. So far, fifteen-year-old LED Light Strips which had served as our wind-down nighttime bedroom lighting suffered first by being removed from service when someone chewed through the impossibly-thin cords, then she nailed my wife's expensive raising desk cord, solid chomp through. The last item - we hope - which felt the firm chomp of her wee teeth was a still-plugged in heating pad which rewarded her with enough feedback for her to yip and run away.
The heating pad has been removed from the outlet, as have the other compromised cords. I am no professional electrician, however with enough experience in model trains and other electrical construction experiences, I know exclusive segregation of the two or more conductors is the way to go. Today, I'm expecting a trip to the local big box do it yourself shop to acquire plugs, cords, and review other options for upgrading those damaged connections where possible. I may also look there for a few American-Made chew toys and bones that might aid her teething. God knows my wife's suffered enough from her continued attempts to chomp on her. My nose is recovering (she hopped on the bed and got to it before I was awake enough to defend myself, another peril due to age, I guess). Beyond that, things are going well, for her.
The rest of my life is still trucking along. The job is busy, work is ... fulfilling most weeks, though there are days I find myself wondering where my communication skills fail me. At the very bottom, it's a simple job. I take information from highly trained professionals, then ask organizations which purport to be responsible for taking care of people if they're willing to pay us to take care of people. Mind you, some of these people are suffering relatively minor ailments, while others are facing a lifetime - that which remains, anyway - connected to a tube full of stuff that's going to keep them alive.
What? Well, the base here is something like a medication which keeps the heart strong enough to continue. I'm not clinical, so I don't know the exact properties, but I see at least three patients a week on something called Milrinone, a medication which keeps their hearts functioning. Most of the folks I see with this range from 40 to 70 years of age.
Then there are the people who have various critical intestinal problems. That is, they just cannot digest the food that they eat and get nourishment from it. In some cases, the food doesn't move at all, in others, there's not enough time for the food that does move to provide nourishment. The medical term "short bowel syndrome" is all too common on those patients who cross my desk. But they do thrive on the service we provide that puts all of those things their body needs right into the blood stream.
And yes, I see many patients a day going home with infections that require a long-term infusion of antibiotics. It's almost second nature to me seeing the name of the medication and the frequency of dosing and translating that into one of the many antibiotic compounds. So that's good, I guess. I can do some of this without mostly thinking about it - which is a very good thing because some of these patients require a lot of thought.
More than anything, they require patience and perseverance to reach a human who can tell me the whats, whys, and wherefores - especially when they decide, in their infinite wisdom, never having gotten any closer to the patient than the half-dozen to two-dozen pages I send to them for their review. Some folks just don't want to part with "their" money - which isn't theirs, it's paid to them for a product.
So yeah, I'm not a huge fan of insurance companies. But that's my problem. Off to see the day through...
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