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Gout last night, followup

I was in a lot of pain last night and I was also nauseous. My guess is that the nausea came from the pain. Anyone who has ever had a gout attack might know what I am talking about. It’s like having a migraine only it’s elsewhere in your body. It often shows up in toes or ankles. It’s not in the joint but in the surrounding flesh. They say it’s similar to rheumatoid arthritis. I don’t see how it can be since it’s not a joint problem, though often it does show up where bones intersect.

What happens is that the area swells, turns red and heats up, and is excruciatingly painful. The skin gets leathery, or it has for me. You can get an accompanying fever or migraine. I got the migraines first, starting about a month ago. I never had migraines before. I haven’t had that many, fortunately. Typically, gout strikes at night. They say it comes from overload of uric acid.

For me, the gout is undoubtedly a result of kidney disease. I assume the uric acid isn’t being filtered out as it should. I’ve consulted many forums on this and I see that people are saying that their are medications for this that have terrible side effects and aren’t effective. Still, their doctors insist that no way could any tried and true home remedy work, and only drugs are powerful enough to be effective. Does this sound familiar?

Yep, Big Pharma is taking over. “Ask  your doctor” is the modern day mentality that is poisoning the USA and the countries it acts like it owns (such as Canada and much of Europe). USA loves to impose its idea of health on the rest of the world that in fact does not agree with these ideas. Those of us who do not agree and have found alternative healing are forced into silence or persecuted.

“That is snake oil. It doesn’t work.” You will hear this from your doctor even if it’s obvious it does.

In med school, doctors are made well aware of the power of suggestion. I was told this by a doctor who was recently out of med school. They were taught not to tell patients side effects of meds since this would cause patients to be more likely to develop these side effects. Likewise, they were also taught not to tell a patient his/her diagnosis because the patient would take on more characteristics of the given diagnosis. If you give a patient a pill and say, “It’s not likely to work,” guess what happens? They are well aware of the power of the placebo effect and this is why “double-blind” studies are usually considered more reliable. Does this make sense?

Given this, when I went to forums to see what worked for folks and what didn’t, I found that many were saying drinking a solution of a small amount of baking soda in water provided far more relief than the pills people had been prescribed. They were even able to quit the pills and stop limiting their food. Why am I not surprised?

By the time I took some, the pain was already unbearable. I hoped for fast relief. I am not sure if that’s what did the trick, or maybe this other wonderful thing I am about to describe to you:

I felt so nauseous and wanted to get to bed right away, though I wasn’t sure I could lie comfortably. As I did the other night, I lay on my back, which I rarely do. I almost always sleep with the gout side down, that is, on my left side. I’ve slept that way since I was a child. I don’t toss and turn.

So last night, I knew I’d have to lay on my back so the gout in my ankle wouldn’t have contact with my mattress. I had showered only hours ago and had put on a pair of cheap socks I had purchased locally. I have yet to find a decent pair of women’s socks here. They are all low cut, and never made of cotton. You can easily find terrific men’s socks made of cotton, as well as cotton men’s underwear. You will have a very hard time finding cotton anything for women or anything designated for women that is good quality. When I’ve needed clothing I usually find something decent in the boys’ stuff.

At any rate, I was sorry I had put those socks on. The left sock hurt so much coming off. After that, I put salve on the area that I made myself by mixing magnesium chloride and hand cream. I wasn’t sure if this would do anything for me but it is said to relieve pain rather well. I have a pair of “diabetic socks” I brought with me from USA. You can buy these socks in CVS, their brand, for relatively cheap, and I highly recommend them. I have seen diabetic socks here but so far, only for men. My feet are too small to wear men’s socks.

I lay down on my back, hoping the nausea would go away. Puzzle joined me as usual. Let me tell you this dog amazes me. She lay across my belly as follows: Her shoulder and her rib cage area just below were directly on top of where I estimate the top of my bladder to be. Most of her was right on top of me, but her back legs draped off on my left side. Her head was around the area of my right side groin. So I’d say most of her weight was smack in the middle, on top of my lower abdomen.

Her body provided heat, and also, pressure. I am wondering if the exact spots where her weight was pressing on were acupuncture points. I recall one of my acupuncturists did this heat treatment right below my belly button. At the time, I didn’t find it particularly effective, but I happen to have kept this in my memory.

You would not believe this. Or perhaps you would. I felt better! The nausea went away gradually, but the pain in my ankle immediately subsided. Puzzle! Jeepers, girl, you are so amazing!

This is not the first time this has happened. You may have read my MIA article where I describe how Puzzle helped me in Miami when I was suffering terrible edema. What’s with this dog? I still feel fairly okay. I even slept some, until my neighbor’s boyfriend woke me up. Actually, he’s shouting again, nonstop. Crap. So damn loud. It’s 3:21 in the morning.  I wish Puzzle would eat him, but she’s too friendly and I tend to feed her so she’s not so inclined.

Photo of Puzzle coming up in next entry.

Commentary on what’s now known as “The Gilbert 23.”

I was with my friend today and we were discussing how to deal with mosquitoes. I told him I couldn’t bear to put up paper that would trap these creatures, because they’d go through the worst torturous death. I don’t have any real desire to kill them, only to send them the message to not bite me nor bother me with their whining. I might get pissed and think of killing one when I hear that “Waaaaaah,” but for whatever reason, I don’t have the heart to do so.

I came home and learned this: Twenty-three dogs died in an Arizona boarding kennel. From what I read in the reports, I see that the dogs were crowded into a hot, outdoor pen, confined, and deprived of food and water. At first, 20 died, two more died later I guess, and another escaped but was found dead. The kennel owners tried to cover it all up. They got caught. I have no clue why then, they ended up escaping the law. Now, a petition has come out. Thousands have signed.

I cried when I heard this, in fact, I bawled. I thought of the torture those dogs went through. I thought of the owners of those 23 dogs. Whether they were families with children, elderly folks, couples, or single people, they all loved their pets and most likely never imagined something like this could happen.

I am reminded of the Holocaust for whatever reason. The victims were confined and deprived of basic needs such as food and water. Many asked, “What god would allow this to happen?”

What god would allow the genocide of people with “mental illness” labels? What god would allow mass imprisonment, scorn and hatred, bloody massacres of those with labels by police, and atrocities such as theft of dignity, forced treatment/brainwashing, drugs they dare to call “medications,” and a multiplicity of other tortures?

Where are the tears for these thousands, or millions of human beings? Where’s the outrage over ruined lives, divided families, destroyed careers, homelessness, poverty, unemployment, crime, suicide, and addiction caused by “mental health care”?

It happens to your neighbor, your cousin, you best friend. Why are we standing by watching? Even cheering as another becomes victim of “treatment”?

As humans who are supposedly granted the power to reason, we now know there are no bad dogs. If a dog is aggressive, we hope an experienced handler with the best of intentions will show that dog that the world isn’t so scary and mean after all.

There are no canine psychopaths. As for humans, there are no psychopaths among us. We have a psychopathic system, with the medical regime coupled hand-in-hand with the law, all based on corporate greed.

I hope we can all work to halt the genocide. I think it’s an outrage.


We are happy! I’m gonna go get the liver soon and the other ingredients! What a feast she’s gonna have!

Here’s a photo, taken just now:

Puzzle on her birthday

Isn’t she cute?

It’s a nice pretty day, too. Good day for a dog walk! This morning, first thing, Puzzle’s boyfriend, Rojito, came to tell Puzzle “¡Feliz cumpleaños!” I call him Rojito because he’s red, but I don’t know his real name. I try to photograph him but he always dodges the camera! The funny thing was seeing Rojito here first thing in the morning, waiting at my front door for Puzzle. Now how’d he get past the front gate?


Puzzle will have doggie birthday cake on Wednesday!

Here’s my plan: I am going to make Puzzle a cake out of liver and rice flour! I will need some kind of icing as well. I plan to make letters for the cake and edible candles as well. Probably, to simplify the lettering, I’ll just write FELIZ on the cake.

I am likely to spend hours figuring out how to do this. I’ll have to make sure I have all the necessary ingredients. Then, I bet it’ll take a long time to make the cake and get it just right. I promise I will take a photo!

After all that fuss and bother, Puzzle will take two seconds to gobble it up.

Check out this article….

Okay, first of all we know the headline is offensive. A person who poisons a dog has done a criminal act.  To poison a dog is morally despicable.  Is the person sick? I don’t know.  Whether he was sick or not isn’t relevant.  If you want to know if someone is sick, go get a stethoscope, or look into his throat.  A sick person needs rest, plenty of fluids, breakfast in bed, and a thermometer stuck in his mouth.  And tissues. But that’s not really what I wanted to discuss here.

Scroll way down and check out the comments below the article. I didn’t even want to add anything cuz what’s written there is just too disgusting.

One commenter stated that the OWNER was at fault. Really? Yeah, the commenter was cruel enough to speculate that the owner was at fault for keeping the dog alive. The dog was eleven years old.  This is a Miniature Schnauzer, folks. Puzzle is half Mini-Schnauzer. You guys know Puzzle is tiny.  Eleven years old isn’t ancient for a small dog. The dog had diabetes, sure. But to fault a dog owner for his own personal choice, to keep his dog by his side as long as possible…. The commenter stated that the dog was probably barking all day. So the commenter was thus justifying this cruel act of poisoning.

Another commenter stated that “the dog could be taking a dump in yards and not clean up after it.” Again, here is justification of a despicable act.

People are like that, aren’t they? They refuse to believe that something happened that was flat out wrong. They cannot fathom it, so they smooth it over.

Blame the victim. That’s the name of the game. Blame the dog or blame the owner. To justify what the poisoner did makes no sense, but this is typical of USA society, the same society that locks up victims of rape and child abuse, the same society that hates the poor.

Blame those that are suffering. Is this justified in any religion or spiritual principle anywhere? Is this the lack of morality to which USA society has stooped?

Didn’t Jesus say that those in a low place are to be honored and blessed? I’m sure Islamic teachings will tell us the same, as well as every major religion on the planet. Great world leaders have made similar statements. As have many great writers, artists, and scientists.

But no, they gotta beat person who is already down. Beat him to a pulp. Finish him off. And they will justify that, too.

I hope the dog is gonna be okay. I used to be scared about that stuff because I’d heard stories of people who left poison out for neighborhood dogs.

Once, I was on a bus with Puzzle, and a stranger gave Puzzle something without asking me first. The guy said nothing to me at all, just handed Puzzle something I couldn’t identify. Puzzle gobbled up whatever it was without thinking twice.  Then, the guy looked away, said nothing at all, and exited the bus a stop or two later. Weird, huh?  He never said a word to me.  I figured maybe the man gave Puzzle a few bites of something he had saved up, maybe some bread or pizza crust. Maybe the man had dog treats in his pocket. Some people do.  Or the man could have given Puzzle chocolate, not even realizing that chocolate is poisonous to dogs. Or the man could have had bad intentions. Most people wouldn’t deliberately poison a dog, though, so I had little reason to worry about Puzzle. Plus if he was really out to poison dogs, would he really do it with witnesses around?  Whatever he gave her didn’t make her sick nor did it upset her tummy in any way. I never thought about it much afterward. If I were going to give anything to a dog I didn’t know, I would ask first. The dog could have allergies. It’s best to ask the owner’s permission. But I suppose the guy just didn’t know.

Either way, the article above states that the Schnauzer owner found similar poison pieces all over his yard. Sure sounds like someone had rather vicious intentions, don’t you think? I’m sure we’ll hear more about this.

The article says it isn’t clear yet if the dog will be okay. I hope no more cruel things are said of this man who loves his dog. They are suffering enough.

Close to 10,000 words….taking a short break.

I love being engaged in a project. I’m into the thick of the third essay. I’m not sure if occasionally i can lump topics into one, or if I need to separate them. I’ve been doing that by feel so far. This essay uses a list and I find that most likely, I need to change the order of the list, break topics up, and combine others. I love having those choices.

The second essay was compare/contrast. I started meandering toward the end due to having only a vague idea of how I was going to end the thing.

Next, I’m going to lie down and snuggle with Puzzle. My plans for this aren’t vague nor sketchy. I’m gonna enjoy it. Hope you all are having a nice day.

“Can it get any worse?” My thoughts on being ungrounded and what it means to be an adult

“Can it get any worse?”

In a word, “Yes.”

More words:

It often does.  Looking back, people can live a long time, and when you are young you are rather clueless as to how truly bad “bad” is.

I mean, think back to when you were really, really little. What was the worst thing?  Having your lunch money stolen?  Having that really cute girl say no when you asked her out on a date? Being turned down when you tried out for that sports team you wanted so badly to be on?

Okay, okay, I’ll dig a bit deeper.  How about the day your teacher took you aside and told you you need to lose a few pounds.  That teacher held her face so close to you that you could see the creases in her face and all the flakes in her makeup.  You cried all the way home and then you were scared to tell anyone.

Yes, it does get worse.  If you are reading this, you might be one of those people wondering about this or asking yourself that question right now.  I wish I could tell people it doesn’t, but I have no platitudes or euphemisms or answers for anyone.  I’m surely not going to lie.  I don’t have an explanation for why people are mean to others or are uncaring, but that’s the way the world is.

What’s really the worst thing that can happen?  I look back over the years and ask this.  When did the bottom drop out the absolute worst? What events struck me down the hardest?  It’s surprising that sometimes what appears to be rather subtle affects me deeply, and other things that are seemingly huge events I pick myself up from and move on like a trooper.

Believe it or not, I’m not alone in this. I’ll bet most people are the same way.  I can remember tiny things setting me back.  It makes it harder still when people around me put me down for “making a mountain out of a molehill.”  I don’t know why people choose to insult another person instead of trying to be empathetic. Again, humans tend to be uncaring and they’d rather put me down even deeper into the hole that I am already in, hammering it into me how “negative” I am, rather than showing love and affection.

I guess the worst thing that could possibly happen, or ever happened to me was losing a loved one, that is, someone very, very close to me.

Losing my home and being homeless, that is, having to sleep literally on the streets, this would be a bad thing, too.  (The term “homeless” is often misused, by the way.) I hope it never happens.  I’ll bet it sucks bad to lose your home.

I have lost a partner and that, I must say, is for sure like having the bottom drop out from under you.  No explanation, no reason. Random bad luck.  It happens to some and not others.  I’m not going to tell one person it has anything to do with deserving anything.  It doesn’t.

I had no clue it would happen beforehand.  No anticipation. One day he was there and then he wasn’t.  I went on with my life because I had to.

Joe and I had been together every day.  We didn’t live together, nor were we married legally.  I guess we had no word for it, maybe “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” but it had been so many years that we stopped using those words.  I can’t recall the word they used for me in his obituary. I can imagine the awkwardness.

My own family paid their respects, that is, my bio family.  They made a brief appearance and that was it.  I’ve been lost in the shuffle rather quickly afterward.  Ten years have passed, over ten years now.

I have lost dogs. Now let me tell you, losing a dog for some people is a bigger deal than it is for others.   I have one beloved living being in my life right now, my Puzzle with whom I share my life and that’s it, and thinking now that to lose her would mean the bottom would surely drop out.

For some, losing a beloved animal is harder than it is for others.  It has nothing to do with values or morals.  To say that an animal “doesn’t have a soul” or to say it’s a lesser loss than losing a person and that this grief “doesn’t count,” well, that’s an insult indeed.  I honestly don’t know a thing about souls. All I know is that I love my dog. Being sad doesn’t mean you are a bad person or morally weak.  If anyone puts you down for grief, don’t listen to them.

I lost my dog right after I lost Joe.  The timing? Joe died August 19, Tiger died October 12. This was in 2003.

What now?  I can tell you you will be loved, maybe it will last, but for me, it was only momentary, actually a few weeks, then I was suddenly alone and in shock.  People came to court me, and maybe this will happen to you, too, but maybe not. Those seekers may lust after you with caring as a goal, or perhaps only to use you briefly for their own purposes, then toss you aside.  That’s what happened to me.  They may see you as someone who has already been taken out of the box long ago whose original warranty has already expired.  Some folks do in fact meet others and then have good partnerships again. I didn’t experience that.  Again, perhaps just luck of the draw.

How do I feel after all these years?  In a word, “ungrounded,” like there’s nothing underneath me to hold me up.  Everything has whittled away.  I was abused in hospitals a bunch of times, and lost countless friends because of it. I’ve had serious bodily organ damage that affects daily life.  I am completely alone 99% of the time.  I rarely have spoken conversation. Domino effect, I guess. Bad luck.

I’m trying to change the situation, but it’s actually not as easy as you’d think.  I have tried certain solutions that didn’t work and made things ten times worse, so I stopped trying those solutions and tried doing something else to fix the problem. I’m currently in the process of changing my living situation.

Being ungrounded is a blessing, actually, though it took me a while to realize this. How did I come to this conclusion?

We’re on our own.  Adults in this world.  There’s something both scary and wonderful about that. Remember the day you left your original place you called “home”? For me, I remember the day I walked out of that big house with “Mom and Dad.”  I was counting down the days and could hardly wait!  I told myself I was now an adult.  I was so proud but I knew I was going to have to fight very hard to get that “Mom and Dad” machine off my back. That ungrounded feeling felt terrific, however scary it was. The Big Unknown was inviting to me.  “Mom and Dad” felt like prison, and I’d do anything to get away.  It felt like I was in a bad trap with my bio family.

I can tell you one thing: it’s true that when you are completely ungrounded, you do get stronger. Find that strength and hold onto it.  It’s who you are.

I celebrated everything wonderful about being lifted up off my feet when I was 17. I guess now that some very, very bad things have happened to me, especially in the past decade, I can look back on how terrific I felt as a 17-year-old and tell myself that “ungrounded” could be seen as a good thing even now.  Why do I now see it as bad when in fact, it means independence and freedom?

It’s time to find out who I am, that is, the person I always was inside.  It’s cool that I’ve been doing just that.  I love the way it’s gradually unfolding.  If there’s nothing to fall back on, I end up finding that strength within that was always there to begin with. I won’t find it if I fall back into a trap of dependency. I seem to be daring to be that adult I always wanted to be, and I’m taking more and more responsibility for my life.  It’s rather liberating.

Stick with folks that are affirming and loving, and you will go far. If anyone insults you, walk away. Dependency and insistence on neediness is an insult, too.  Don’t fall for that trap.  You will blossom among those that encourage independence, freedom, trust, creativity, and love.

Brushing my dog’s teeth: an act of love….Ramblings

I guess I am lucky.  Many dogs aren’t very happy about the idea of having a toothbrush or anything resembling one anywhere near the inside of their mouths, however, my little dog Puzzle is delighted every time we do this activity.

Recently, yesterday, in fact, I saw an ad for a product that made claims to “freshen dog breath.”  Now listen carefully.  First of all, the advertiser stated that brushing a dog’s teeth was not something a dog owner wanted to do, claiming that this was an unpleasant, yucky activity for both dog and owner that every dog owner would pay good money to avoid.

Really?  You can brush your dog’s teeth and avoid yuckiness such as tartar buildup, eventual loss of teeth, god knows what resulting pain and suffering (your dog’s, that is), of course bad breath (your dog’s), and huge vet bills (yours).

So the entire ad started with this premise and went onward.  What to do about bad dog breath?  I have no idea about the price of this product, and when a product’s price is not advertised, I’m sure it’s either sky high or the company has “special offers” and is deceptive about its prices, offering what people think are “bargains,” but we all know what that means.

So the product cleans the dog’s tongue, thereby freshening breath.  Technology at work, folks.  Listen carefully to the ad.  It makes claim to freshen your dog’s breath, and makes claim to clean the tartar off your dog’s tongue, but not from your dog’s teeth.

So, you’ll be paying a fortune for the tongue scraper, and then paying for the special gel for it, probably a they want to dupe you into a subscription payment, and then paying the vet for the teeth cleaning once every few years, anyway.

So back to dog teeth brushing.  It’s not expensive at all.  It’s just like brushing my own teeth, only for me, brushing Puzzle’s teeth is less disgusting than brushing my own teeth.  Dogs need different toothpaste.  They need what’s known as “enzymatic” toothpaste, not the toothpaste people use, such as “Crest” or “Colgate.”

I ran out of the dog toothpaste I’d been using for a few years.  Trust me, dog toothpaste is one of those things like tissues or toilet paper, one of those things you just don’t want to run out of.  Luckily, I had an Amazon gift certificate.  I went online and peeked at the Amazon product reviews.  Naturally, I take these reviews with a grain of salt.  So many of these reviews are all about how fast the product arrived, or if Amazon shipped the wrong product.  Finally, I found overwhelmingly positive reviews of a dog toothpaste called CET.

I have the product right here in my hand, and I will tell you what else it says on the box: C.E.T. Enzymatic Toothpaste, Virbac Animal Health I think that’s all the information you will need.  You can get this product from many veterinarians right at their offices, and you will find that it is highly recommended.  The tube only 2.5 ounces, not particularly a lot but sold for well under ten dollars a tube, if I recall correctly.   If you go through the Amazon site, you will find the product sold by various vendors at varying prices.  CET comes in a variety of flavors.  Pick whatever you think your dog will like best.

For a few days, Puzzle and I were out of dog toothpaste.  Trust me, it was not a good thing.  I have always brushed Puzzle’s teeth I was cringing thinking of her going without brushing for those days.  Then, the CET arrived at the post office.  We began using it.  I was surprised because I figured it would take much longer than it did to clear up the yucky buildup from the days that Puzzle went without having her teeth brushed.

I’m not sure how to teach an older dog how to allow a toothbrush into their mouth, if the dog isn’t used to one.   I used to brush my dog Tiger’s teeth and in fact scrape her teeth with a dental scraper.  If I recall correctly, I didn’t do it daily.  I think I did it once a week.  I rolled her over on her back, and when I got the tartar off her teeth, I carefully lifted it out of her mouth to make sure she didn’t accidentally ingest it.  Human dentists are careful also to make sure we do not ingest the crap they remove from our teeth.  This was all so long ago.

Tiger’s teeth were much larger than Puzzle’s.  Her head and body were differently shaped, and she had a different disposition, being a herding dog by instinct.  Tiger often rolled over and lay with her belly exposed, and stayed in that posture for so long, her delicate front paws bent, waiting.  I was always amazed at how vulnerable she allowed herself to be.  It is a pose I rarely see Puzzle take on.  Instead, Puzzle, who is much smaller,  is more self-protective.  If she is curled in what we humans think of as fetal position, in apparent sleep, she will have her ears up, always on the alert for possible danger, real or imagined.

This morning, Puzzle decided it was time for me to get up.  I suppose it was.  Puzzle decided to change positions from beside me with my arm around her to directly on top of me.  This was not a lengthy commute.  Perhaps a few inches.  I wasn’t exactly awake, nor was I exactly asleep.  So Puzzle got on top of me.  I suppose she was saying, “Mama, get up.”

Then, right on top of me, she immediately fell into a deep sleep.  Now what’s a dog owner to do?  I had a funny-looking now-quite-white fourteen pound dog on top of me, fast asleep, and it was time to get up.  I didn’t want to be rude or anything.  She was truly in a doggie comatose state.  Married folks, you know the situation, it’s heartbreaking to interrupt them, but you have to get out of bed somehow.

I thanked myself a zillion times that my asleep dog didn’t have bad breath.  You sure don’t want a dog that’s suddenly fallen into a deep sleep for whatever reason breathing yuckiness all over you first thing in the morning.

As I remember correctly, I fell back asleep myself, my little dog I suppose in her own dream, too, and we were like that for a while until finally I awoke again.

And all over, upon waking, for me, it was again a surprise to see my dog, this wonder, this creation, how could this be?  How could a creature be so small?  How could a tiny creature love me with so much abandon and joy?

Readers, today I could not ask for more.

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