On the lighter side of things, today is Day 3 of being on the Atkins Diet.

No, I haven't lost any measurable weight, but I feel better than I have felt in years.

I have a tendency towards really wacked out blood sugar, especially low blood sugar (also known as hypoglycemia). Low blood sugar makes me irritable, cranky, frustrated . . . and in the latter stages, hopelessly paralysed and curled up in the fetal position. Low blood sugar makes me nuts.

Low blood sugar also makes me feel lousy. It makes me feel tired, lethargic, unable to think clearly. We had long speculated on the cause of the dramatic swings in my blood sugar, but we never had any solutions.

Then I decided to take a bold step and cut out all carbohydrates, refined sugar and fruit products (other than whole fruit). The first day, I stuck to it, but I was sure that life without cake would be impossible. I fantasized about chocolate milk, cookies, waffles . . . you name it, I dreamed about it. But I knew I had to give it a chance, so I stuck to it. When I craved the other things, I went to the fridge and put something else in my mouth . . . luncheon meat, cheese, fruit, baby carrots. The cravings were usually about hunger, so I snacked on the other things until I felt better.

You'd think I would have been standing at the fridge all night, but after a small snack, the cravings faded and I felt comfortable again. And no, I'm not living on bird-food here. I'm eating like a normal person, but without the sugars and starches.

After the first day, I noticed the most amazing thing . . . the mood swings, the lousy feeling . . . it was gone. I could actually eat, get full, and go off and do something else. Yeah, it's sounds like bullshit, but try it.

You open a bag of Doritos, and how far into the bag do you get before you're ready to stop? About 3/4 down for me. I still feel hungry. Open a bag of beef jerky, and how far into the bag do you get before you're ready to stop? About 1/4 down or less for me.

Eating carbohydrates and refined sugars causes my blood sugar to spike, and my insulin to spike accordingly. The blood sugar spike makes me feel jittery, and the insulin spike makes me feel like I'm always hungry. It's a vicious cycle.

Until you try it for yourself, I know you won't believe it, but I believe that the essential philosophy behind the Atkins Diet is what I've been needing for years. Carbohydrates are just too much for my poor body . . . too much blood sugar too fast.

Anyway, just thought I'd share the news. :)

Wow, I thought I was the only one admiring all the funky old signs that linger in urban areas. Very groovy.

'Being a huge dork, my first thought was: '"mitrebox" is a good name for a Web site.' Funny, it looks like he's not the only one.

A collection of Yuki's pictures, including the last pictures taken of him.

Yuki the angel-kitty

Forgive me, tonight's thesis, it seems, is death. These are just my thoughts, so please don't feel I'm preaching or anything. Feel free to believe what you want to believe.

What I didn't know before, I know now. I know now that death is swift and indiscriminate. It does not pick and choose, though we sometimes wish it would. And although other's may like to believe otherwise (as I once did), it's also very final. I thought that love like the love I had with Yuki was the sort that transcends death. I thought that love like that could build a bridge that the spirit could follow back to those left behind. Maybe that's still true, but I won't know in my lifetime. Yuki did not come to me at night. He did not sit on my pillow and whisper that he loved me. He did not speak to me in my dreams, nor leave traces of his little soul around me. He died, and he did not come back.

I knew he died, though I could scarcely reconcile with it. His heavy little head was in my hand as he cried out. His head was in my hand as his body shuddered after he died. His heart stopped, and his body let out two large sighs for the very last time. I did not feel his soul leave. I did not feel it with me. I felt a loss unlike anything I've ever felt in my life, and the overwhelming pain that comes when you are the one who asks for the final injection. He did not understand, and there was no way for me to make him understand. I still can't make him understand, because he is gone. He does not come back to talk to me. Although he may be there, he does not make himself known to me.

Other animals do not see my pain. They do not behave as though they see his spirit with me. They treat me as they always did, some with friendship, others with indifference, but it's all the same.

It's nothing like I thought it would be. I didn't really believe death was final. I didn't believe that it could come for Yuki so soon. I was unprepared for what truly lay ahead, and it continues to vibrate well into the days that have passed since.

I've been hysterical with grief, crying until I can't breathe anymore, can't speak. I've been hysterical with anger, determined to do something . . . find answers, reverse the truth . . . the impossible. I've been fanatical, overcome with the agonizing search for another cat to plug the wound in my bleeding heart. I've driven kilometre after kilometre, visiting animals shelters in the hope that there will be another cat that will take away some of my pain.

I found the cat I believed would do that, and I can't take him home. I can't take him home because I have no where to put him. I have no home for him yet. But even more importantly, I simply can't. I can't take him in because my wound continues to gush blood uncontrollably. Whether I'm thinking of it or not, Yuki's death casts a strange hue over everything I do, and nothing seems to be the way it should be.

Death will never mean to me what it used to. Death is more final to me now than it ever was before, and all of my planning never prepared me for that. Yuki is gone, and he isn't coming back. I may never see him again. None of this occurred to me before.

Love is strong, but love does not transcend death. It does not fool death, trick death or subvert death. Death just happens, and sometimes love happens to be in the same place at the same time. Just a coincidence.

I don't know what I believe anymore. I believe there is a God, yes, but I'm not sure I'll ever see Yuki again. I think I would have by now if that were true. He has gone far away, travelled a journey I won't understand until I'm there myself. I can't say that I'm okay with that yet, but I do understand.

I hope there comes a time when death has beauty again. When death is once again a beautiful transition . . . just as there is birth, there is death. I hope one day I can revere the moment I spent watching Yuki die, and appreciate it for its beauty. For now, it's wrapped up in too much pain for me to see the real beauty.

Yesterday, Forever North, my dad and I drove up to Brackendale to watch the bald eagles gorge themselves on dead salmon.

There weren't too many bald eagles, but I guess it's still early. Apparently the bald eagles spend their winter in Brackendale.

There was a distinct odour of dead fish, which served to further remind me to throw out my purse and buy a new one. My black leather purse spontaneously started smelling like dead fish a few weeks ago. I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating for the longest time, and I didn't think the smell could be coming from my purse. It's never gotten wet, and I don't carry sushi around in it, so I have no idea why it smells like I have a trout slung over my shoulder.

Oh well. It's a good excuse to buy a nice new purse. :)

Trying to get around a new city can be interesting.

The first night we were using the car, we decided to go for a little drive and check things out. Before we knew it, we had driven to New Westminster. The whole time, we had no idea where we were. The next time we decided to go exploring, we were driving down Oak St. and ended up in Delta. If it wasn't for the map in the glove compartment, we would still be there.

We've finally begun to get our bearings, but it was a bit hairy for a while there.

We went to Metrotown in Burnaby for an evening, and were a half an hour late picking my dad up because we got lost in the parking lot. Yes, you read right. In the parking lot. He thought we had gotten into an accident. *sigh*

I'm not sure why men tend to get a reputation for not stopping to ask for directions, because I'll be the first to admit that I'm usually too stubborn/embarrassed to ask someone. I figure they might also think we're going to mug them or something, so I try to work it out before resorting to that.

Com-put-er . . . so . . . slow . . . two hours to upload pictures . . . too much . . .

What a load of navel-gazing-woe-is-me bullshit.

Forget what I said before. It's time to pick my sorry ass up off the floor and do what I never had the courage to do before . . . follow my dreams.

There was a time that I let other people diminish my hopes and dreams. It's time for that to stop. It's time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself, it's time for me to stop feeling too old. It's time for me to get out there and fufill my dreams.

If I want to sing, dance and act, then damn it, I should get out there and do it. It still means as much to me as it did 8 years ago. It's time to make my own dreams come true, and not feel ashamed of it.

There was a time when all I wanted to do was sing, dance and act.

I watched musicals incessantly, and I worshipped the actors in shows like CATS and Guys and Dolls.

I'm not tall and lithe, but I think I could have been quite good. To what end, I don't know. It's not like I would make much or build much of a future doing that. But I can't help but wonder what happened to that dream.

Somehow, over the years, I learned that doing that was not an appropriate path for me. Somehow I wasn't supposed to do something like that. I was supposed to do something scientific, or something that would earn me a good living, like a doctor, or lawyer, or professor.

I'm sure I could be great at any of those things. I could be a great doctor or lawyer, but what if all I ever wanted to do was dance, sing and act?

I'm 23, and as far as performance goes, I'm bloody old. I'm bloody old, and I have no formal dance or voice training. Thinking of taking up singing, dancing and acting at my age sounds like a ridiculous prospect. But the fact is, I still don't know what I'm going to do with my life. Is this what happens when you let your dreams die?

It seems that God has deposited another little angel at the Chilliwack SPCA.

This pic is gone from the site.

I know that this little angel isn't Yuki, and may bear absolutely no resemblance to Yuki at all, but I can't help but feel compelled to go there and find out for myself. I hope we can go there before we go back to Edmonton.

I'm trying to move forward as best I can, but I'm finding that this grieving stuff isn't easy.

I've gotten to the point where I can make it through the daylight hours without crying, but going to bed and getting up in the morning is still hard.

I miss Yuki like I've never missed anyone in my life. I find myself feeling sad, angry, confused . . . a whole rainbow of emotions. All I can think about these days is animals. I'm in Vancouver, but still all I want to do is go to pet stores and go to the SPCA in some vain hope that maybe it will help ease my pain. Maybe, just maybe, there will be another special friend that I simply must take home with me.

Being around my step-brother's cat, Frisky, only serves to make me more unhappy. I had long forgotten that Yuki was not a typical cat, and Frisky is serving to remind me of that. She's aloof, she doesn't like being touched, picked up, held . . . even a little cheek scratch is abhorent to her. She's only friendly when she wants to be fed. For some people, that's just the kind of companionship they want, but for me, it only reminds me of what I've lost. It makes me wonder if I'll ever have love like that again in my life. Yuki would have spent all of his time curled up in my arms if he could have. Frisky finds physical contact appalling. The contrast is unbearable sometimes.

I know I'll get through this somehow, but I never imagined it would be so hard.

I've never questioned my spiritual beliefs the way I have recently. Part of me thinks that I'm just overcome with grief, that my doubts will eventually subside. But part of me isn't sure what is true anymore. Part of me wants proof of an after-life . . . part of me feels that if there were truly an after-life, Yuki would have come to say goodbye in some way. It shocks me that my faith could wane to the point that I find myself demanding proof of the existence of things. I've never felt this way before, and I don't entirely understand it.

I still believe in God, and I don't believe that this is something that God has done to me, but I can't understand how something so beautiful, so sacred, could disappear in the blink of an eye. I don't know how a relationship like the one I had with Yuki could simply fade into oblivion. I can't understand how our souls could be so easily parted from one another. We were everything to each other, but now I have nothing left. All I have is some cat hair on my clothes and a ceramic urn filled with ashes. Somehow that just doesn't seem right.

Hello from Vancouver!

It was sort of a spur of the moment thing, since FN and I decided to fly instead of driving in miserable weather for 12 hours.

We're visiting my dad, since he wasn't able to go away as he had planned to. We've been here since the 16th, and we'll be leaving on the 24th. We have a lot of people to visit for Christmas, so we have to manage what little time we have. :)

Hopefully I'll be able to upload pictures, but I can't guarantee that the computer I'm working on will withstand the strain. My dad has an old Dell 486 with 2 GB of hard drive space and 24 MB of RAM. It took about 10 minutes to load Windows, which almost made me burst out laughing.

Anyway, it's a balmy 5 degrees Celcius or so, versus the -25 degrees Celcius in Edmonton. I don't know if I'm looking forward to going back.

Oh well. Edmonton is home. That's where my friends and most of our family are.

Do not stand at my grave and weep


I am not there, I do not sleep


I am a thousand winds that blow


I am the diamond glints on snow


I am the sunlight on ripened grain


I am the gentle autumn's rain


When you awaken in the morning's hush,


I am the swift uplifting rush


Of quiet birds in circled flight


I am the soft stars that shine at night


Do not stand at my grave and cry;


I am not there, I did not die.

Author unknown.

(Written at 7:45 pm, Dec. 13, 2000)

Two hours ago, my dear, sweet angel-kitty left for the Rainbow Bridge.

He was so brave, and he hung on long enough for all those who love him to come and say goodbye.

Yuki first met Kari's brother, Gavin, when he came to visit us at home. Before any introductions could take place, Yuki found a comfy spot in Gavin's lap and fell blissfully asleep. Gavin was smitten from then on.

Yuki met my friend Jennifer a long time ago. She played an important role by helping to take care of him when my stepfather developed allergies, and taking care of him until I was able to get a place of my own. She gave Yuki much comfort on the nights that I wasn't able to be there to help him drift off to sleep.

Yuki met my mother the same day I met him. At the SPCA, when he was barely big enough to fit in my hand, and had a black speck on his tiny forehead. Before I could decide who was coming home with me, Yuki decided he was coming home with me. He dug his claws into my shoulder, yowled, and the rest was history.

He spent his last month at Kari's office, where he met 6 new, wonderful people. Deanna, Dan, Alfred, Tory, Mike and Danny. He enjoyed Deanna, Dan and Danny's cheek rubs. He enjoyed Alfred's chicken scraps from Alfred's garbage, walked across Tory's keyboard regularly, and found Mike's lap to be quite suitable. He touched many lives in a very short period of time.

Those same people were there when he suddenly fell ill, and they helped take care of him and get him to a vet. I'll never be able to thank them enough for what they did for Yuki.

So my dear, sweet angel-kitty has gone to be with my grandmother. I told him to make sure he comes to get me when it's time for me too.

 

I'll love you always, my angel. I love you Yuki.

Yuki The Cat - December 11, 1987 to December 13, 2000 5:45 pm

The anticipation is becoming agonizing.

We wait and we hope, but his condition is so poor, that we are afraid to have hope. His circulation doesn't seem to be coming back, and I'm afraid that tissue may start to die. If that happens, there won't be much left to do.

The vet gave him a diuretic which cleared up his lungs nicely. However, despite the Heparin she gave him to break up the blood clots, his back legs are still icy cold and stiff. Seeing him like that tears me apart. Hearing him cry the way he does tears me apart. Part of me wonders if it wouldn't be kinder just to put him to sleep now.

The vet is maintaining some guarded hopefulness. I'm too afraid to, but part of me aches for the possibility of having him back. I'm afraid to hope that I might be able to hold him in my arms again and feel him snuggle his head against my neck.

I feel totally incapacitated . . . getting distracted is nice, until I remember what it was I was trying not to remember. Thinking about it all the time is such a heavy burden. I feel like I need to sleep. I just don't want to wake up.

Dear, sweet, angel-kitty,

I'm thinking of you constantly as you struggle through your pain. I know it must be very hard for you, and I'm sorry that I can't take the pain away. I wish I could.

I hope that even though I'm not with you right now, you know that I love you more than can be expressed with words. You are so special to me . . . I consider you my fur-child. You have given me love and support when I felt sad and alone. Your little hugs, kisses and purrs are like the most precious jewels sent straight from heaven. Nothing gives me peace like the feeling of you snuggled up to me.

I hope the doctors will be able to help fix your problem, but I won't keep false hopes. If it's too much for you, don't stay for my sake. If the pain is too much, follow the light to the Rainbow Bridge. My grandmother will be there to keep you company until I get there. The grass is always green and the sun always shines, so don't be afraid.

We will continue doing everything we can to make you better. You've made it this far, baby-cat, I feel confident that you'll pull through this.

Remember that you are always in my thoughts, even as you struggle in your kennel at the veterinary hospital. There are many people praying for you to get better, and I'm sure my grandmother is watching over you. Don't be scared if you feel alone . . . I'm not far away.

I love you, my precious.

Yuki, my precious angel-kitty is in very bad shape.

His heart condition has worsened, and he now has fluid in his lungs. A loosened blood-clot has caused him to lose function in his back legs, and he is in tremendous pain. He is at the animal hospital being treated right now, but there is no guarantee that he will be able to pull through this.

I'm afraid I may lose him.

For 12 years he has been my strength, my support, my endless love. He is my angel-kitty, my fur-child. I don't know how I will manage without him in my life.

Please pray for him.

Ah, the things you can find in the recently updated blogs on the Blogger homepage. :)

Why, this picture gives me a whole new perspective on the Victorian era. Or is that Edwardian? Aw, who cares. They were all perverts. ;)

Oh, there'll be some unhappy kids in Quebec this Christmas!!!

Yahoo's links are totally messed up. ~sigh~

The only way you're going to see the sites that belong to this ring is by going here and clicking on the individual links.

How lame.

I hate Yahoo's webrings. Instead of a nice neat link, I have to put this crap on my site:

The crap that was here is gone from Yahoo.

Well it looks like crap, so Yahoo can bite me. The links don't work anyway. :P

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to meeeee, Happy Birthday to me!

I am 3 years and 359 days older than Britney Spears.

I am 9 years and 6 days younger than Lucy Liu.

Yay for me!

I can't believe I can spend so much time sifting through email.

The PetBunny mailing list is going to be the end of me. I get ~150-200 emails a day, and I feel like I'm drowning.

It's a great list . . . the people are super. But the volume is really too much. TOO much!!!! I really need to stop trying to get through it all every day. I can only read so many 2 line messages and short condolences to other bunny-slaves before I'm ready to jump out the window. When there are this many emails, it's just too much.

Tomorrow, I endeavour to read NO Petbunny emails. Only email specifically directed to me. Wish me luck!

Pigs that fly.

And I thought transporting rabbits would be hard.