The Revelations/Revolutions of June

There’s those days of self-pity where you just have to crash out Les Misérables’ I Dreamed a Dream on the piano and make your dog serve as unwilling witness.

“Oh God may sleep give me sweet escape.”

Speaking of the dog, June Carter Cash has just started eating on her own.

This is a revelation. I came home from work late one night this week and there she was with her mostly empty food bowl.

And she has continued this trend of self-sufficiency. We went downstairs and she actively drank from her water bowl.

She is also still jumping in and out of the car like a real live well-adjusted dog.

I don’t have a photo of that because when it’s happening I’m too busy looking casual and positively reinforcing. I can’t pull all that off and handle a phone simultaneously.

My ability to multi-task is not what it used to be. And I’m also quite sick of screens.

Does anyone else ever fantasize a rural shack in the woods?

Disney-style, of course.

Of course, buying land and building or rehabbing a dilapidated country shack requires money, resources, patience and skill.

All such things are in short supply so for now pretending we’re living in a Disney country cottage is probably the most practical path forward.

Though this rural animal-infested home has long been the goal of my five-year plan. Specifically, if the ALS/FTD starts to kick in, I’m bailing and exploring drugs for the first time and I’m doing it in a house in the woods.

I like to think I would still have enough mobility to hang a bunch of freaky craft creations from the trees so local teenagers felt I was Blair Witch.

When I’m not super high, I’d like to be scaring children, yes.

I’ve always felt rather negatively about drugs as I’ve always been focused at self-preservation (because my brain was always trying to electrocute/murder me so I wasn’t going to help it out by also doing drugs) but, at the end, what good is clean-ish living?

So I like to have a plan of indulgence which lends to a quick end I won’t feel because I’ll be on drugs.

And, if the wolves eat me, there won’t be a need to plan a funeral or anything. And, if I had pulled off the Blair Witch thing, my sudden disappearance will only fuel the legend of my haunted woodland cottage.

Yes, it’s been a very sad week for poor me. But such ugly self-pity can be cured by listening to the entire musical score of Les Misérables.

At least, that method works for me. I spent my day off listening to the entire score and cried my eyes out and wonder when I missed my revolution.

Now when seeing images of revolution it feels necessary to say the gathering I’m featuring above is not composed of a bunch of anti-maskers.

Maybe people freaking out about wearing masks should also listen to the musical score of Les Misérables.

Or maybe true freedom is anarchy?

Nah. Anarchy usually translates as outrageous selfishness.

That’s what I needed to hear. I recently hit a wall at work and told my boss I was looking for other jobs (I felt this to be fair of me when it was really just stupid of me) so now she is interviewing my replacement.

But she said she couldn’t hire someone as long as I was still there.

Well, I haven’t yet found another job so… I’m going to keep this job until I do.

I think.

Spending 1.5 days at a laundromat this week washing all my company’s moving blankets is making me feel I may not be able to sustain the effort to push me out.

I washed and stacked all these on my own.

Similarly, June is feeling her need for doing it all on her own without help from anyone. She now cleverly gets me to stop holding the end of her bone so she can attempt to use her body to hold it and chew on it independently.

I didn’t know if she’d ever find this need to be self-sufficient.

So this is a very happy revelation.

After all, if I’m drugged out in the woods with hungry/protective bears and wolves, the dog is going to have to learn to go at it on her own.

To this end, I have an appointment with my researcher neurologist who specializes in finding a treatment and cure for ALS. A year and a half ago, he told me to call in January 2022 to make an appointment for May 2022.

So I did but was told he didn’t have any availability until December 26, 2022.

Merry Christmas.

But an opening happened so now I’m seeing him on February 28. This is a regular appointment but maybe he got my message about my feet contorting.

If that message made him make time for me, that’s not a great sign because maybe he recognizes the symptom as the beginning of ALS.

Or maybe someone canceled and he just had a new availability.

Either way, I’ll see what he has to say next week.

And after I hear what he says, I have my first dentist appointment in over 10 years.

Wait. You’re seeing the ALS guy and then the dentist?!

Yeah. I know. But I have to work on my sadism if I’m ever going to be Snow White.

Finally, June successfully endured her first public outing. She met a nice dog and people knew her from a social media group she’s been featured on and… it was great.

She is doing it! Still awkward and I had to hand feed her this morning but she ate an entire bowl of food and smoothly got in and out of our car as I dropped David off at work.

So June continues to perform revelations and she is inspiring me to ensure the revelations to come in my life.

Dogs rule.

And so does musical theater.

We all get freaked out and none of us know what tomorrow brings but… when you have to, lick your wounds, wash your face, fantasize ridiculous future plans you’ll never do and find a way to get back up.

Dramatically and while singing, if you must. 🖤

5 thoughts on “The Revelations/Revolutions of June

  1. Fucking ALS. I just saw an article that they’re making advances for treatment so maybe if you promise your body it can get ALS later you can trick it into holding off until there’s a cure.

    I know me not wanting you to have it EVER doesn’t help, but you’re one of the Very best people I know and at the very least I want you to be healthy. ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh my beloved heart. How I love you. Yes! My “special” neuro said to me in our first meeting in a really super arrogantly confident way that there would DEFINITELY be a treatment if not cure for ALS in 5 years. I’d heard that before but it meant more coming from him. This was the plan of my “regular” neurologist… she wanted me to get on his radar so when he started clinical trials, this rat would be in them. 😂

      A game of strategy. 👑 I love you so so so so much. Thank you, my dear Val.


  2. That graphic of you waiting in the forest to be eaten by the surrounding animals is so awesome. I laughed out loud. No seriously, I’m sorry your diagnosis has been hitting hard lately. I can’t even imagine. I like the idea of June taking care of you in your cabin in the woods while you enjoy a lovely magic mushroom trip. Sounds like she’s well on her way to being a faithful companion.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hahahahaha yaaaaaaay! It’s an old illustration of mine. Hearing that it made you laugh out loud has made my day. 😂 We will see… I do have faith that a treatment and cure are on the horizon which will be life-altering for so many… and the researcher neuro likes me so I have a good shot of being in one of his clinical trials… though – no lie – the haunted woodland cottage drug life is NOT unappealing.😂🙏


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