The interesting part.

Kanine Karma = “Good morning, Picasso"

No, I don’t have Ganser Syndrome, yet. This is a cheery tale for the New Year.

About 8 weeks ago, I poked Mr. Watson in the eye with my finger. It usually gets his attention, but this time, no go. I’m kidding. I was walking to the bathroom and I didn’t know he was on my heels. I turned right, he didn’t—right pinky to his left eye. He was furiously rubbing it the next a.m., so we went to the vet. No damage, just severe irritation from his rubbing. E-collar and 3x per day eye drops.

10 days later he’s looking pretty good, so we remove his head funnel. That lasted about 15 minutes before he was at it again—replace collar, add eye drops. 5 days later, no improvement, back to the vet. Now he’s punctured his cornea with his dew claw. Amazingly, there is, for minor damage like his, a restorative cornea solution—3x a day, w/collar. This is all now in it’s 9th week.

On Saturday morning, New Year’s Eve, I woke up late. Mr. Watson was lying at the bottom of the bed. I tried to talk to him, but I was slurring my words and had a minor headache. I tried again, same thing. Shitola! I’m havin’ a stroke! No, wait. I watched my octogenarian Dad have over 10 of ‘em. I know all of the signs and I wasn’t feeling at all terrible.

I got up to s, s, & s, and went to the bathroom to begin 3rd “s”. Did Bill hang a 1930’s Picasso portrait over the bathroom mirror before I got up? Nooo, it’s me! Why doesn’t my left eye work and why is the right side of my mouth in the shirt pocket of my PJ’s? Well F-me to China! I’m not having a stroke!! It’s Bell’s Palsy! So, I’m off to the ER. Not the ER a mile from home, MY hospital, 25 miles from home, in downtown Boston----on New Year’s Eve, oh, yes!


When I got there, around noon, it was quiet. Boston has a 30-year old First Night tradition. 4-midnight, 750,000 people. During my 9 hours there, I watched it get busy, then very busy, crazy busy, then simply crazy. There were parallel parked gurneys along every adjacent corridor wall, occupied. This new Sumner R. Redstone (huge a-wipe) Memorial ER has been open only 6 months—and it’s now full!

Many are in costumes, some are writhing and groaning, some are KO’d, some catatonic, but they’re ALL ON THEIR CELL PHONES! A man was there with his 8-year old daughter whimpering beside him. On my way to EKGville, I passed him and looked over his shoulder. He was playing Tetris.

Luckily, 9 pm was still early for New Year’s Eve, so I managed to sneak out of the city without any trouble, Bell’s Palsy diagnosis firmly in pocket, along with my steroid script.

So now I have to put drops in my left eye 3x per day. Unlike Bandit, I also have to take steroids, exercise my face (yeah, like that’ll be a problem) and massage it. I’m too lazy for that one, so I smear butter on it, lay flat on the floor and let Bandit lick at it for 15 minutes. (Oh, c’mon! If you guys knew a hooker that’d do that to you in exchange for ½ tablespoon of butter, your families would never see you.)

The really crappy part is that I have to stay away from “excessive dust and fumes.” That dovetails nicely with the cabinet and paint jobs I’m supposed to be starting, but at least Bandit will have full 24-hour concierge service in the meantime.

So, what goes around comes around. All dogs may go to heaven, but they get even before they leave.



DOG WINS!

I ate lunch with Bob yesterday. The Bells Palsy was actually quite charming on him. He reminded me of a classic black and white film movie actor but I can't quite place him.

Nice portrait. I'd keep that for next years Christmas cards.

Good luck with the Bells Palsy. It took my Niece almost two years to completely recover.

I got up to s, s, & s, and went to the bathroom to begin 3rd “s”.