Prior to Simply for Life, I struggled with near debilitating IBS: Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
I was more than well acquainted with each and every clean bathroom in the greater Fredericton area.
And the ones between Fredericton and Montreal.
Having changed my eating behaviours, I am proud to say that for the most part I have the IBS under control.
Meaning I don't feel the need to rush to the bathroom immediately after eating ready to release the methane equivalent to Mount Vesuvius.
Nonetheless, I am still human.
And thus prone to human bodily functions.
Hence the other morning, as I walked out of my office, I may have expelled some gaseous material as I locked the door.
Not before checking there was no one else in the hallway.
Because SFL or not, I still expel.
As I was started walking down the hallway to my meeting, I hear someone call my name, turn around and see a colleague walk into the center of the cloud of gas floating to the top.
While speaking with me, this colleague may have let out an unexpected cough, a polite way of saying "Why the hell am I standing in the middle of a fart cloud?"
I've never answered a question and walked to a meeting so quickly in my life.
If this was the first time this had ever happened to me, I'd think it was humorous.
But it's not.
I don't like marking.
Surprise!
In an effort to decrease the pain of marking, I am more than willing to meet with students to discuss their papers with them, answer their questions, generally help them through the maze of academic writing, or in their case, writing in general.
Nonetheless, there are those insecure students who make visit, after visit, after visit, after visit, after visit with questions that are not the most critical.
And those who leave half a paper with me, instead of the "please, no more than two pages" I've set as a limit.
Otherwise I'd be reading drafts and drafts and drafts of papers, in addition to marking the final papers.
So when Em called to inform me that Tikka had peed in the front hallway and she thought there may be some blood in her urine, I almost welcomed the opportunity to get out of the office early.
Except for the fact that my 13 year old dog had just peed blood in the front hallway.
Off to the vet I think.
After I called the vet to inform them of her condition, they said bring her and a urine sample.
A urine sample from a female, 13 year old, bred-for-winter-climates furry dog.
Me, outside with Tikka on the leash.
Stephen crouching beside her with an empty, plastic sour cream container trying to collect her pee pee while unable to see where the pee pee was actually coming from.
We managed a little bit.
And the look on Tikka's face when Stephen was trying to collect her urine?
Almost as good as the look on Stephen's face.
I was not the most pleasant driving companion during the trip to Oromocto.
Worried sick about Tikka, who was fine in the back of the car, enjoying her unexpected Frankie-free time.
All I wanted was to hear the vet say she was okay, something wrong with her I could accept, so long as it wasn't fatal.
Not normally so much of a drama queen, but when the kids or pets aren't feeling well, I just seem to lose any sense of staying calm.
Luckily, my baby girl is suffering from a urinary tract infection.
Uncomfortable to be sure, but not fatal.
Amoxicillian for two weeks and she'll be back to her usual self.
Until then, she has to go out every hour or so.
Because there is a lot of pee.
A lot.
Meaning it was a long night.
However, if standing outside in the freezing cold of the late night in my pjs, half asleep, is the price for a healthy, happy Tikka, I'll gladly pay it.
And as if I don't already have enough reasons to love Jim Parsons, a student sent me a video providing me another:
Title Lyric: It's a Privilege to Pee by Unknown
No comments:
Post a Comment