Wrigley's dog house

It's been a week and a half since I brought home an adorable little ball of fur. Okay, okay, it's more than a ball. She's a little black and white puppy! She's a chow-red shepherd mix and is quickly becoming part of the family. She's almost seven weeks old and is growing quickly.

I had a hard time finding a name for her though. Her face looks like a bear cub, so the obvious choice would be to name her Bear. Problem...our family dog we had when I was little was named Bear. So back to square one. I thought about naming her after some kind of camera equipment, but nothing seemed right. I knew I didn't want to give her a typical human name, so I started searching the web. When I came across the name Wrigley it was like a lightbulb came on. It was the perfect name. First, it's not a name you here too often (much like mine) and second, I am a huge Chicago Cubs fan and the home of the Cubs is Wrigley Field.

One of the things that I love most about her is that she loves to sleep near me. She has her carrier and a pet bed that she knows are hers and occasionally she'll go sleep in one of them on her own. However, she usually sleeps between or next to my feet. If I have the foot rest up on the recliner she will crawl under it like it's her own personal dog house. And if I'm not home she will still curl up next to the chair I usually sit in. She knows my scent and it comforts her. Which makes me happy.

Beware the red-haired man and corny jokes...

For the first time in my life I will not mark the beginning of a new school year as a student. However, the last few days have had me thinking back to my junior year of high school. I remember Ms. Simmons gave us a writing assignment the first day of school. We had to write a poem about our summer.

The only thing I remember about the poem I wrote is the title and one line. The title of that poem was "Saying Goodbye, Before Saying Hello." The poem was about saying goodbye to the several new friends I made that summer before starting school and saying hello to old friends I had not seen over the break. Saying goodbye was the hard part because I knew that I would probably never see those people again.

So why, eight years later, am I thinking so much about a poem I wrote in high school? The answer is simple. The word "Goodbye" is trying to sneak back into my life. Some very dear friends of mine are moving away soon. In fact, Paul, Wendy and their kids are already gone; and in just a few short days Robbie and Denisa will be gone as well.

Paul and Wendy are on their way to Washington state and I will miss them dearly. They are essentially part of our family, and have been a huge influence in my life over the years. Robbie and Denisa are headed the other direction and moving to Rhode Island. I love them both and they have become an integral part of my circle of people.

Although I know that I will definitely see these people again, it feels like they are moving to another planet. I guess in a way they are. Yes, they'll still be in the same country, but the East and West Coasts are very different places and they definitely aren't Oklahoma. Both places are vastly different from here. They won't be in the "Bible Belt" anymore. I know that God has great plans for them or He wouldn't be sending them so far away from everyone and everything they know. I am proud to know that we as a church family are sending them out to do God's will. As for saying goodbye, I refuse. I know I'll see them again, so while a bit cliche', I'm only going to say I'll see you soon.

Before Robbie and Denisa leave there are still some fun times to be had. And boy did we have one great evening of fun the other night. A large group of us gathered together for a "Farewell Soon" party. Thus began an evening of corny jokes and a scary red-haired man. Robbie is in the Christian band "Farewell June" so there you go, the first dose of corny. There was much more corny cleverness throughout the evening as we split up into guys vs. girls in a rousing game of Family Feud. While we had immeasurable amounts of fun we were all a little bit on edge after the sheriff stopped by to warn us about a man they were looking for in the area. We were instructed that if we saw a red-haired man we were not to interact with him and to go inside, lock the door and call the sheriff's office.

I don't know if they caught the guy, so beware of the red-haired man and extremely corny jokes.

I know Paul is in the Air Force National Guard, but my family served in the Navy. So, farewell my friends and may you have Fair Winds and Following Seas.

Rikilynn

About my shoes...

Okay the first two posts I originally posted on myspace, but thought I'd post them over here too. I'm not going to transfer all of my old posts, so feel free to pop over to myspace.com/rikijimison to read my old posts.

Riki's Shoes Have Far To Go is a reference to many things. First, I have much to learn in life as I pursue a close relationship with my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. If you want to know more about that, ask me. Second, I have a long road ahead of me since I was diagnosed with MS in 2005. Third, my nephew and I would like to visit all of the major league baseball parks in the U.S. So far we have made it to Wrigley field, Minutemaid Park and the Ballpark at Arlington.

With these three things in mind, it seems I have a long distance race ahead of me. All the while I'm keeping in mind Isaiah 40:31 and 1 Corinthians 15:52. In this blog you will find references to God, Jesus Christ, MS, Photography, and anything else I care to comment on.

It's been a while...

Well, I heard from an old friend today and she inadvertently reminded me that I haven't blogged in a while. In fact I haven't written anything since I hurt my back in May. So a quick update is due. As it turns out it was not a torn ligament, normally that would be good news. However, I'm not sure if the reality is better or worse. After a few weeks with little relief from the pain my PCP ordered an MRI of my back. The MRI revealed a small disc protrusion, which is esentially a herniated disc. It is not severe enough to require surgery which I'm am rejoicing about. To treat it I have had to go through a round of physical therapy.

I did my PT at Redbud in S.S. My therapist's name is Bethany. She's pretty nice and sort of a "jill of all trades." She went to cosmetology school in S.S. and then in college she took photography courses and of course she is also a physical therapist. She asked me about this little hole-in-the-wall Mexican place downtown and I didn't know what she was talking about. An hour later, at the end of my session, I realized she was talking about Tellie's. I never considered Tellie's a hole-in-the-wall kind of joint. I told her it was pretty good, and then I added the disclaimer that I haven't eaten there in eight years. She said she's going to try it soon, I hope I didn't send her to a horrible lunch experience.

Back to my PT, it seems to have done quite a bit of good. I'm not 100% better yet, but 50-70% for sure. The downside is that the therapy regiment seems to have either caused or intensified bursitis in my hip. The doc shot me with cortisone on Wednesday and said it will take a few days to take effect. Then he wants to give me a week or so to let my hip calm down before deciding if I need to continue PT. I think I need to since I'm not really disciplined enough to continue doing the work on my own.

Exactly how much has PT helped? When I bend over at the waist and hang my hands straight down as if trying to touch my toes(which I just tried to spell tows..lol) I have gained almost a foot of flexibility in two weeks. That is a huge number. I have also gained movement in every other direction, I'm just not sure of the exact numbers.

Once again I have been convinced to attend camp with our teenagers at church. I'll be at Falls Creek all week. I pray that God provides good health and nice weather throughout the week. I have yet to have a year of camp without injuring myself, one more and I think Rusty will force me to live in one of those plastic bubble things. I also hope that God is able to use me this week and that my MS doesn't cause me problems.

Speaking of MS, if you're the praying type of person, I have a friend that is facing a possible diagnosis of the disease. I wouldn't wish this on anyone and I pray that God would heal her body wholly and completely.

It is kind of odd though, because of the similarities in our lives. I have a great-aunt with MS, she has an uncle with MS, we are the same age, we went to the same schools, and we grew up on the same street. If in fact she is diagnosed with the disease, the family history certainly presents the argument for gentics being the culprit for this disease. Although many researchers say it isn't genetic. But we also grew up in essentially the same environment. Which presents a case for those that say the cause is environmental. Either way, if she is indeed diagnosed with MS, maybe somebody should do a study on our lives. Who knows, they just might figure something out.

Okay, now that I've thoroughly covered so many topics I think I'll really go start packing. I said I was going to do this a while ago, but once again I have demonstrated my ability to procrastinate.

Wishing you all good health and may God bless you all,

This could only happen to me...

This was originally written on May 25, 2008. I transferred it from my myspace blog so there would be some background info for what I wanted to post today.


For those of you who haven't heard yet, I have again had one of those accidents that can only happen to me. Surprisingly it didn't happen on Thursday.

While getting ready for lunch on Friday I was sitting in the recliner and I bent over to put my shoe on when I felt something pop in my lower back. There was instant pain and I thought that if I got in the floor and could get my back straightened I would be better. Well, that only led to a bigger problem. Once in the floor, the pain didn't get any better plus I couldn't get myself up. Basically, I just couldn't move. I wasn't paralyzed, just any movement caused more pain.

So this led to my very first ambulance ride. I was strapped down on a backboard and carried out the front door by the very nice paramedic people. They work with my brother at the fire department so I told them he would come beat them up if they were mean to me. They were nice to me anyway.

So I got to the ER and had to wait FOUR hours before a doctor saw me and the nurse couldn't do anything for me until then. So add the hour-long ride to the hospital and I went five hours of the worst pain I've ever had without any pain meds. I think the doctor that finally came in to see me only did so because the nurse made him. He didn't seem like he wanted to be in there treating me. He didn't do any tests either. All he did was feel my back and order some heavy duty pain medicine that is like four times more powerful than morphine. It took two and a half doses in a period of about an hour before I was able to get up out of the bed. It was still quite painful though. But they decided that since I could get up then I could go home. So I'm home with a diagnosis of a torn ligament in my back and a perscription for Percocet. Plus I was still hungry as this whole incident caused me to miss lunch and dinner.

So I'm going to be out of commission for a few more days, but no worries. I'm home and able to move around just enough to not be stuck in bed all the time. I'm not in too much pain, I'm mostly just sore. (I hope that makes sense, trust me there is a difference.)

Tying your shoes shouldn't be this difficult, but once again I've proven anything can be dangerous. Even on a Friday.