Just Another Typical Sunday ... NOT!

Sunday was - well ... eventful.

Started out as usual - I got up and was getting ready for church. I had let Charlie out into the back yard and twice had yelled at her to come back in - it was hot and she was ignoring me. I looked at the gate, wondering if it was open since I couldn't see her, but - nope - looked closed.

A bit of explanation of 'stuff':

I put my makeup on at my desk because it is in front of a big window and tons of natural light (not that I REALLY want to see my face that well ...) and I can listen to my satellite radio that runs non-stop on my computer (very spiritual for a Sunday morning, I know).

My office is in what is really supposed to be the living room and our living room is in what is supposed to be the dining room - go figure - we need the wall space for all the shelves and there was not as much in the dining room (we definitely didn't need a dining room since you could set up 3 tables in the dining area of our kitchen / great room combo). Anyhooo - my study is just to the left as you come in the front door - a door with an entire panel of clear, leaded glass - thus anyone standing at the door can see straight into our house. I USUALLY don't mind.

Back to Sunday morning. I am sitting at my desk putting my makeup on when the doorbell rings. I do an inventory of 'me' -

- makeup: half on
- hair: in curlers
- clothes: um ... in my underwear

So I make myself really, really small at my desk so that anyone peering in sideways won't see me - determined to wait them out. They will go away eventually ... right? I mean - who would be ringing on my doorbell at 10:00am Sunday morning? Someone lost? I don't care ... find someone with clothes on. A delivery? Just leave it on the porch and go already.

The doorbell rings again and I realize that the person on the porch is not going anywhere. I can't just run out of the office and down to my bedroom - they would be able to watch the entire comical immodest dash ...

What to do?
What to do?

So, I take a deep breath, put on my Levi jacket hanging over my office chair and saunter over to the door, like this is a perfectly normal way to dress - hoping that I don't know the person and they will just think I am, oddly in a Levi jacket and, well white spandex ...

I open the door, trying to hide the bulk of my body behind the 6 inches of wood that surrounds the glass window - not very successful. It is my next door neighbor - a woman and I am thinking, if I can just keep making contact with her eyes and they don't drift down - she won't think I am any weirder than she thinks I already am ...

She starts: "Um, I think I just saw your dog down by the mailboxes."

I was startled, having looked at the gate and seeing it closed. Dressed like a freak, saying something intelligent here would probably give me a few points. I say "My dog?" like maybe she meant my kid, or my car or my cat (I don't have one) - very intelligent.

She says: "Yeah, she was booking it down to the exit out of our area."

I thank her and tell her I will go find her (I didn't add that I might just want to get dressed first). She smiles, glances down at my outfit, looks back up at me with scared eyes. I smile, thank her again and shut the door. Somehow, I don't think they will be inviting us over for a barbecue any time soon ...

NOW, I run down to my bedroom, pull on a pair of shorts and a shirt. And still in curlers step out on my front porch and scream Charlies name as loud as I can. No, this is not going to help that issue that a 'crazy lady lives in that house over there....'

Nothing.

I walk to the end of our little loop to the mail boxes and start shouting again.

No Charlie. Damn.

Walk back to the house, look at the gate and notice that, indeed it is open about 6 inches.

Run upstairs and literally yell Ryan out of bed. He was the last one in the night before - thus the person who left the gate open and he was damn well going to help me find her. Oh, and did I mention that church starts in 40 minutes and I would really like to know who the new bishop is, but I guess finding my freaking dog takes precedence. He flies out of bed, as I am fleeing the room, knowing full well he sleeps in his birthday suit for some reason known only to him, and really don't want to be there when his feet hit the floor.

I tell him to get in his truck and head right, I will get in my Tahoe and head left - we will take the mini loop around our block and see if we spot her. If not, we will head out to Waterside Estates Circle - the main loop and do the same thing ...

I head out (still in curlers and looking a bit demented). I hit the stop sign that takes me out to Waterside Estates Circle - and look right. There is Charlie - about a half a block away, frolicking across the main street - sniffing trees, the ground, just exploring. I throw the car in park, roll down the passenger window and scream her name as loud as I can - as she is wandering away from me and is across two streets from where I am. Why I didn't drive to her is beyond me.

She lifts her head and starts running - right across Waterside Estates Circle - dumb move on my part - but makes it without being hit by a car. And approaches my car - over by the passenger side window I had rolled down. I tell her through clenched teeth to get in the car, but make the mistake of thinking that she is a normal dog and will come around in get in the door I am getting out to open.

I hear a thud, look over just in time to see Charlies head disappear from view out the passenger side window - her paws hanging on to the window. Damn! "Charlie! Not through the window - you IDIOT! Come here and GET IN THE CAR!" Thud - again she doesn't make it through the passenger side window (do you realize how high up a passenger window is in a Tahoe? I think it hits me about 5 inches below my shoulder). Thud! "Charlie! You freaking @!*#$ psycho! Come here!" Thud. I look up as I am passing my door to go around the front of the car to grab hold of my idiot dog and either a) strangle her right there or b) grab her by the collar and get her in the car. I look up just in time to see her flying through the window, making a perfect landing on the passenger seat - then fleeing (oh, and I mean fleeing) to the back seat. Sits down all happy with herself, but with a look that indicates she knows she is in trouble.

I find Ryan and tell him I have found her and head home. She runs out of the car and into the house to hide somewhere. Go figure - me - in curlers, mismatched clothing, barefoot - screaming at her at the top of my lungs - she had figured out she was in trouble.

... Was still so mad at her last night - refused to play bouncy ball with her.

Miraculously made it to church on time. Left early to pick up Jessie. Got her home and knew I was in trouble when she demanded to watch the Disney Princess Sing Along I had given her the week before for her birthday. I was SO not in the mood for Disney Princess Singing - back to wanting to kick puppies. Survived three viewings without my brain melting - so that was good.

THEN - (and I knew this was coming and had given them permission) Linda and her daughters Dana and Tiffany show up their foster children ... babies!!! Well, they have 3 babies and 2 adorable older girls, but left two of the babies sleeping with Brother Randall. So BABY!!!

We had a good visit - a bit hectic, but that is OK and I got a bag of tomatoes from Linda's garden out of it - how great is that?

Jessie, as you can see from the picture is doing great - she has lost weight, doesn't look completely like a homeless person and seems to enjoy her home. What you can't see in the photo is that she has developed a 'tick' if you will - it is a movement of her mouth that she cannot seem to control.

I blurted out to the Randall's that I thought it was tardive dyskinesia. They blinked at me and asked me what it was and why I knew about it. I told them I had read it somewhere and knew it was a series of involuntary movements that is a side effect of long-term or high-dose use of anti psychotics. I am sure I read it when they put her on anti psychotics when she became violent with me. I made sure that she was on a very small dose because of reading this - and she was. She was only on them for about 6 months - they took her off them as soon as she was at RSS and not around me anymore. THAT IS NOT HIGH-DOSE or LONG-TERM!

I spoke with a nurse when I dropped her off and mentioned the mouth movement. She independently said it looked like tardive dyskinesia and was she on high doses of anti psychotics? I told her no and that she had only been on a small dose for a short period of time. They are going to refer her to the psychiatrist (to evaluate her meds) and to the neurologist.

The sad part? Which I knew. Break down the word: "Tardive dyskinesia:"

Dyskinesia - refers to an involuntary movement.
Tardive - means the dyskinesia sometimes continues or appears even after the drugs are no longer taken.

As in - it could be permanent. PERMANENT. My heart aches. I don't like watching her with these involuntary movements, it makes me sad. Make me worry that putting her on the meds we did was a mistake - but still - low dose and not many many years of taking it. Please pray the nurse is wrong ...

Treatments? Not many - but wow! In wikipedia it does mention that "Cannabis can be useful in treating the symptoms of tardive dyskinesia".

Yeah - Jessie on pot ...

This is just getting better and better...