Saturday, May 26, 2007

I am in the process of comforting an elderly cat. Like humans, in youth and old age, we need the most care. The poor girl is getting progressively leakier, as we all do. I never fuss at her, I know thunder scares the pee out her, and she's always alarmed and ashamed about it. I talk to her and pet her when she paws my arm as I'm typing.
She's hit the age of consent for humans. If she makes it to next year, she'll be able to vote. If we have to move, we're both afraid of how it will impact her health.

For my part, it could be an improvement. I'm dealing with a medical command who does not believe in what I do, but will send kids for "fasciotomies" resulting in weeks of recovery and pain. FYI, I can deal with plantar fasciitis, IT band syndrome and other problems of tight fascia with no surgery, no recovery, and a decent success rate (undocumented unfortunately). I'm a Certified Rolfer with actual massage certification (Rolfing isn't exactly massage, but it has yet to differentiate itself so far as chiropractic has -- and Rolfing can be more effective, and results in more client independence in the long run) I kind of object to Rolfers with no bodywork credentials as they tend to be not only dismissive and condescending to other bodywork professions, they also don't understand the body and psyche nearly as well as they would if they had spent a few years in "symptomatic" treatment rather than worshipping at the altar of IPR and her 10, which was in fact only a kata to teach students. If you object to this statement, first learn about Shu Ha Ri. Then listen to IPR herself, who only ever meant to create more mavericks.

Meanwhile, I am dealing with a husband whose hip has ceased to function without pain. I have to turn him over to surgeons, and I hate to give anything of mine up to anyone. Turning him over to my teachers is another thing entirely, because I belong to them, myself, already.

My first priority is to get him through this health crisis and very much "back on his feet". Then, we find out what our future holds. Right now, it swings on his job, because that pays the rent. Sadly, mine won't. Not here, not reliably, not so far. Not to the level of his job, certainly.

Other places, maybe.
So we play the Fantasy Destination Game, and I sure as hell won't let the door hit me in the @ss on the way out.

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