Saturday, October 29, 2016

Escaping Cancer Land

The steroid insomnia hasn’t been as bad this time, but it’s obviously hitting me a little bit on this final day.  What’s on my brain right now has little to do with cancer and chemo except that for a moment it helped me to feel something else and to even forget about it. 

Sometimes people know what they will do with their lives, professionally I mean, but sometimes the world throws you curves and you end up in a place that was wholly unexpected but not unwelcome.  There are always parts of a job that are monotonous or drive you crazy but then there are days like today.  I have a strange job, but only in the sense that people often tell me they have no idea what I do.  I manage a small veterinary clinic which is supposed to mean that I work mainly with people: employees, client relations, etc.  But having worked there for over a decade now, I have watched people’s pets grow from puppies and kittens to senior pets.  I have become dear friends with clients and held them in very difficult times.  I will give people my cell phone number because sometimes that is just what you do. 

Living in Houston (especially during an oil crisis) has also meant that I’ve had to learn the ins and outs of shipping pets internationally.  This is not glamorous but it is complicated and it is serious because if done incorrectly some countries will euthanize an animal upon entry.  It’s stressful and expensive and for some reason I find myself drawn to helping people through it.  Maybe it’s living vicariously through someone else’s adventure or maybe it’s figuring out the process and making a plan (that’s the stage manager in me), but regardless, I take it very seriously and I enjoy doing it despite the anxiety. 

Today I had two major issues, a dog that I have known for almost a decade and who is beloved by my staff was having a pretty major neurologic episode and the doctor and I were having a difficult time getting her into the specialist.  I’ve been working shortened hours because I get so tired, but I wasn’t going to leave until we got the dog on the way and the medical record sent.  While we were finally getting that wrapped up, a new client came in who was supposed to be travelling to Central America with his dog today.  He had gotten the paperwork done in Colorado but the paperwork was wrong.  It wasn’t the right form, it wasn’t endorsed by the USDA, it wasn’t even done within the right time frame.  I got on the phone but quickly discovered we were out of luck, there was no way I was getting this dog on a plane within 24 hours. 

I can’t explain it, but I felt a kinship to this man and so for the next two hours he made phone calls, I worked on paperwork and we did as much as we could to figure out a solution.  It was still up in the air when I was starting to leave, but we had options which was a step in the right direction.  He was still sitting on the step as I was leaving and he asked me for a ride.  He had taken a cab because he’s not from Houston, this was just a quick stop from Colorado on the way to Central America and he was staying with friends.  I paused for just an instant and then waved him and his dog toward my car. 

Do I normally invite bearded, tattooed strangers into my car?  No.  But sometimes in your life, you make connections and you trust your instincts.  It was a delightful car ride.  I found out that he is dancer/performance artist going to teach English through movement in Central America.  That’s kind of when it all made sense, a dancer from Colorado, he was my people.  You just know them when you see them. 

I had a similar experience in college when I found myself in charge of volunteers and operations at a Space Convention.  I went to a friend’s house to pick up a total stranger who was going to be my partner in this brand new adventure and was faced with the most adorable bearded man who to this day is still one of my favorite people on the planet despite not having talked in years. 


I was exhausted when I got home yesterday, but I was happy.  I felt like I had helped someone and that for one fleeting moment, cancer didn’t enter the equation.  I could just be me.

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