I have been in a relationship with my boyfriend for somewhere between two and three years. Nobody really knows exactly how long. We came together as: we were just supposed to be fun, friends,no-big-deal thing. At some point we realized we never had enough time to talk, even if we talked all night. And we had pretty much ten lifetimes of adventures that we wanted to do together. Eventually we moved in together. For about two years, we had the best relationship that we, or anybody else, could imagine. Every day an adventure. Talk every little thing over. Find new and amazing things to do every single day. We made our friends sick with how happy we were. We both brought life, joy, and color to each others' lives. 
A few months ago, Peter started acting differently than the person I knew. He didn't want to do anything, vs up for anything. Where he used to be a huge sweetheart, he was mean. I don't mean abusively mean, I mean: "here was this amazing guy, and now hes kind of a dink." All he wanted to do was sit on the couch. He didnt want to have our talks. He wanted to be alone. Period.  Where we had beautiful meals together every night, he didn't want to sit with me and eat. Eventually, he didn't even want to eat. I very seriously pondered moving on. I had no idea that he was sick until it was impossible to ignore. I am so glad that I didn't "move on!"
Once I finally realized that he was sick,it took my every trick that I had in my book to get him to the hospital. Jaundiced, exhausted, and as far as the doctors told us, close to death, he insisted on going to work for a solid week after everyone around him knew that he was sick. Stubborn Irishman. 
When we finally got to the hospital, the doctors said that he very nearly died and that he, by their numbers, should not be alive. They worked to stabilize him. Three times, they told me to say goodbye to him. Three times, I said, " thank you for telling me all of the possibilities. " And then I told him, in his ear, " you are not ready to go yet. If you see a white light, run the other way. If you see Danny, ( his brother who died recently of a similar disease) tell him you cant be with him yet. Run, and fight, and with all of your strength, go the other way. Be with your family a while. Be with me. Be with Jessica (his niece and goddaughter.) " I did tell the one doctor that kept telling me that he was going to die to eff off. Not much of a swearer, but I did that. I did. 
Peter came out of the hospital with the knowledge that he needs a liver transplant. Two days out of the hospital, he checked in to his employer. He was up to doing light duty. They fired him. That is all that I will say about that. 
We spend our days making sure that he is OK. My mother hangs with him when I am at work.  Unemployment, disability, we have received $0 so far. He was fired on 4/25. His copays keep coming in. We still have normal living expenses, ie: rent, utilities, food, copays for all of his stuff. I am not writing this to complain about money. We have a huge support system of our families if we need it. Not the point. Two, above average intelligence humans navigating the system of insurance and the medical community=at our wits end. 
As far as Peter goes, he is brave. He fights hard every day to get himself better. He has moments when he is confused. He wakes up in the middle of most nights in states ranging from foggy to frighteningly confused. We are told that this is standard with his disease. He comes out of confusion, every single time, plotting about something nice that he can do for a family member or friend. He adores his family and wants to reconnect with his best friends in a more meaningful way. That is his focus. He loves his plants, he loves our dog. He wants to leave his mark on this planet for doing good. He quotes St Francis; "make me an instrument of your peace," every day. 
Where our days were filled with bikerides, walks, going to hear endless bands, culinary adventures, etc., our life is making sure that he is ok and that we cover all of our bases medically, nutritionally, and to make sure he is happy and entertained a bit. Days off are doctors' appointments. He has an entire team looking after him. 
Lessons learned: 
1) Its tough to be this sick. Its horrible.
2) Its tough to watch somebody be this sick. Its horrible. 
3) Its tough to navigate the medical community, insurance companies, and help for 'displaced' workers
4) Its all kind of horrible. I do not recommend it. 
At the same time:
1)We appreciate small moments of beauty, like a meal prepared and eaten, or a sunset, or a doggy cuddle. We REALLY appreciate my mother. BIGTIME. 
2)We have seen unbelievable help and support from our friends and families. We have both become closer to the closest people in our lives. 
3) We both better understand what our friends who have survived grave illnesses have faced and can better support them. 
4) There are beautiful moments where he feels strong. In those moments, he is at his best. Smart, imaginative, loving, and wanting to save the world. Beautiful. 
I didnt think that I would write about this. It seemed too grave for a very long time. I have decided that we are not the first, wont be the last people who are facing this. Others facing similar circumstances might need a kindred spirit in writing or in life. 

The winter of 2015-2016 has been a tough one for me in terms of exercise. It seemed like I was fighting a persistent upper respiratory infection that fell madly and obsessively in love with my body. And I got a puppy. If you have every had a puppy, you know that they take a lot of time and attention. So between taking care of her and being sick, and the normal life distractions I found myself out of shape. And I didn't like it very much. At all.
I wracked my brain to come up with a way I could get in an hour a day of exercise and still fit in my dog walk. The dog walk isn't really exercise, because with distractions, etc. I don't get my heart rate up high enough to make this cardio that means anything. I thought about running with her at the beginning of winter, but icy sidewalks and a puppy that is still learning leash manners are a recipe for disaster. I kind of put it in the back of mind and forgot about it. I found ways for her to get exercise indoors, and didn't get very much at all myself. I missed a lot of my dance classes from being sick, and at some point I got so far behind that I had no choice but to table the classes until next fall. 
Scrolling through Facebook one morning, inspirational powerlifting champ, and fellow dog lover Brooke Fineis had posted this article about a man who came back to life and health with the help of his dog. He lost 140 lbs. He went from sedentary to the picture of health, and regularly runs marathons now. Fortunately, I don't have so far to go, but I cried reading the article and realized I have everything that I need right in my house.
​I like setting goals, so I decided to start with training for a 5K. A quick internet search lead me to this plan: Coach Jenny's Doggy 5K Run Plan.I loved the way that the plan was set up in intervals to get you and your dog up to speed in a gradual and logically building pattern. All of this on Sunday night. Monday we started. 

Day One: I got home from work, and was eager to get begin. I couldn't find my sports watch that has an interval timer on it. I haven't seen it since I moved, so it might never reappear. I tried to figure out setting my phone for the intervals but it wasn't cooperating. I knew I had very limited time open in my evening, so I did something that will probably make you laugh. I counted out the intervals the old fashioned way: one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, etc. I am sure this sounds ridiculous, but you know what, nothing was stopping me from starting on Monday. When life throws me curves I improvise. 
My plan to run by the water was quickly foiled by the chilly air, but we took a pretty route through neighborhoods and past parks. I found out that my dog, KD, does wonderfully on the leash with the jog. She seems to love the pace, and is almost unaffected by the usual distractions that challenge our walks: other dogs, kids playing, people. This was so much fun. We seemed to be in sync. She was even better than she is in our usual walks in the walking intervals that followed the jogs. I'm sure that was a combination of tiring her out a bit and her understanding pacing. I used the command, "walk, " for the walking parts and, "jog," for the jogging or running parts. We walked for another half hour or so after the formal program because we are both used to about an hour or so for our walks. 

Day Two: I woke up feeling great and not even a bit sore. I felt my mood at work was lifted from the experience of the night before. I couldn't wait to get home and see how our Day Two was going to go. When I got home I found a simple interval timing app for my phone that had sounds you could assign to designate intervals. Much better than, "one-one thousand...etc." I didn't let the light rain deter me even a tiny bit. As I walked KD to "go to the bathroom," she started the typical pulling and distracted behavior that I have been working to train out of her. Once we started the intervals, though, she was all business. She followed commands like a champ, and it was another great experience. We finished up just as the serious rain started. We stopped in front of the statue of St Francis, and I said a little prayer of thanks. I am not sure whether she did, but she sure seemed calm and happy out in the pouring rain. We headed home feeling good, and her behavior for the entire evening was extra good. I think we are on to something pretty darned cool here. 

In a rare moment of unplanned splendor, I made no plans for my day off. Except, I was planning on going to this estate sale and walking my dog.
I couldn't find the information for the estate sale on my computer, and only remembered that it was on Goundry. Well, thats easy. Goundry isnt that long of a street, Ill just drive on Goundry. I saw all the cars, , and parked mine. In an odd twist of fate I had parked in front of my first ever apartment! This was a beautiful place in an old mansion.It looks pretty much the same! I lived on the third floor. It had a purple clawfoot bathtub and bright yellow cupboards back then. Made me think of the old Barenaked Ladies song, "The Old Apartment. "

So I walked the couple of blocks to the estate sale, only to find out there was a line out in the cold. I have been to many estate sales, but I have apparently never been there on the first day when they open. Anyway, I decided to wait. I quickly made friends with my "line-mates" and it wasn't so bad. 
When I saw the ad for the estate sale, I was drawn in by the great photos of the "mother-load" of vintage finds. What I did not anticipate: seeing how much 'stuff' this woman had accumulated made me want to purge, not purchase. Still. I enjoyed walking around, seeing the beautiful clothes, decor, and housewares. I decided that would be my entertainment whether I purchased anything or not. 
Turns out, I found a few cool things and bought them:

This ring was my cup of tea and coffee. Yes, it went home on my finger. 

This painting. How could I not buy this?

This vintage tablecloth in kind of a Beverly HIlls Hotel vibe. 

And, finally, this ashtray. No I do not smoke. I love the look of this, the beautiful ballerina,how she is sitting at the edge of the pool. I feel like I can use it for jewelry at my bedside or something else fun. 

Next, I stopped at Squires for lunch. Squires is a place that looks like you could have walked in during the 1960s and it would not have been all that different. The food is simple, as my dad would say, "gin mill" food. Still, they have a veggie burger there. And the bartender, Elaine, builds a beautiful cocktail and is lovely. 

I stopped to see my girls, Julie Ann and Meagan, at one of my favorite haunts, Cats Like Us, and got the socks that I had been coveting: Raining Cats and Dogs socks!

I then came home, and walked my beautiful pup around a winter wonderland. The water views in the City of Tonawanda and North Tonawanda are just incredible all year 'round.

And then came home to read more of the book I have been reading, and am completely fascinated with,and prepare for a fun evening with my love. 

The day isn't even half over, and I have seized it. Clearly, I need to "not make any plans," more often! 

Her name is KD Puppy. She is a black lab/bluetick coonhound mix, at least that is the SPCA's best guess. 

I have wanted a dog for all of my adult life. I lived by myself for many years, with a work schedule that would leave a poor pup home alone too much. When I was married, my ex husband was not in favor of a dog, and I feel like you need two yes votes to bring a dog in to your home. 

When Peter and I first got together I told him that I had always wanted a dog.  He kind of brushed it off, like maybe down the road at some point. He wasn't saying no, just not just yet. We enjoy our little adventures and wanted some time to just be "us," before bringing a dog in to our world. Finally, this past September we decided it was time to start looking. Or rather, I decided and he went along with the idea. *giggle-giggle*

The plan was that I would start visiting the SPCA, and when I found a dog that I liked I would have him come and make sure that they were a good match as well. Our plan was a 1-3 year old dog that was trained at least a bit. We did not limit ourselves to a particular breed. We felt that our dog would find us. Peter has an affinity for German Shepherds, and I have always been crazy-fond of Dalmatians. Still, we, said, our dog can be a Chihuahua or a Great Dane, or a Beagle, or a mutt. 

I went to visit the SPCA a handful of times. I walked some beautiful dogs, but none of them felt like a fit. One day, I walked a very sweet pitbull mix. She was a little tough on the leash, but otherwise well behaved around other dogs and humans. I came back to walk her a second time, and she was awful. Im sure that she could be a lovely dog with some serious training, but I have no backround in dog training and both of us work full time. Nope. She was not our dog. Sadly, I went over to pet a little puppy just to cheer myself up. The puppy was friendly and affectionate and sweet. She had my heart the moment that I saw her. She had these eyes that looked right in to me while she jumped up to give me as many kisses as I could handle. "Oh, " said a woman watching me. "That's your dog."