My Bossman

There was a man in my life who came to mean a lot to me. He expected a lot and he gave a lot.

7.5 years ago he hired me over the phone without even meeting me. He had the rep of firing "assistants" within two weeks and I was apprehensive about going there. Some co-workers teased him about being the male version of Murphy Brown.

The job title was data-entry at that time and I thought that would be a freaking piece of cake compared to the pressure of insurance sales. Cripes, I could do that in my sleep. Wellllllllll.... it quickly turned in to much more than data entry. In all honesty (and he would agree if he could tell you... I am over-qualified and under-paid).

But, he and I grew to be very close and we were an awesome team. We would argue and fight often but we always knew where one another stood. We would annoy one another to all ends and then turn around and hug because we cared.

He was upset one day in mid-December. He even fired me. I knew he was ticked off... and now I know that he had a lot on his mind and things weren't going well for him. I wish so badly that he would have let me know what was going on. I'm so glad I didn't just walk out on him. I stuck to my guns like I have always done with him and now I hope I'm making him proud by keeping the department running like he wants it run. I have a strong feeling that the day he was that mad at me, he was testing me to see if I would stick it out or run. I'm glad I didn't cave in to that. I know now that he can maybe rest in peace that I will continue his bad-ass diplomatic ways and continue to do well for the job.

His job was his life.

I was angry when he said I need to choose my priorities. I know that MY priorities are my family and horses... and my job is the way I maintain that. I realize now that his job was how he maintained his self-worth and that is what he expected of me as well. Our conflict lay where I don't live for my job, but my job allows me to live for my life. And that makes it all worthwhile.

That was our difference.

I'm still very dedicated to my job and I strive to make him proud even in his death. I will continue to work hard to keep things going as he would have done and sometimes I have to pull the bitch-card to do so... but he was succesful in that position and I will try to carry that on. He would become irritated at the passion I have for my lifestyle, but I know that it's only because he thought it distracted me from what he felt needed to be done for what he required. I have a difficult time with that.

I don't know what will happen now. I believe he groomed me to take his place when he left. We sure never thought his departure would happen this way. I made him a promise years ago that I wouldn't consider any other positions until he retired. I held my part of the bargain and now he's gone. Unless I get the support from higher-management that I need, I will be looking for another job soon. I stayed there for him, and I am highly doubtful I will be considered for his position.

My husband gets upset when I say this... but I don't have a penis. And that dingle-dangle seems to carry a lot of weight (lol that's funny) in the industry I work in. One friend told me I needed a sock. I told her "and a potatoe too". Har Har.

Now he's gone. He can't tell them "Pam can do it!" He can't tell me anything. He can't answer my questions or yell at me down the hall. I can't tell him I miss him.

He was truly a very nice man and he has tolerated me as much or more than Jay has. He has my respect and my love. I'm feeling a bit lost at the moment. He was a rock to me. That rock is now swept under the water and I feel I need to start piling pebbles to build my own rock under my feet.

I really miss you, Big Guy. I will never forget you.

I Always Wanted a Cyster

Not this kind though. Actually I found I have quite a few "siblings"... although they have no names yet.

About a week and a half ago I noticed a sore spot in my left breast. "Ow", I said as I scrunched my face and waited until I could find a private spot to investigate further. Holy Crap, there's a huge lump in there! Where did that come from and when did it decide to raise its ugly head???

With everything going on in my life, I tried to ignore it. Hubby broke his ankle and had to have surgery on his leg, Bossman decided to die on me, and my life suddenly got really really busy. Who has time to make an appointment. And! I didn't want to distract from the other things going on that were important at the time.

So after things seemed to settle down a bit (a very tiny bit), I got on the phone and called my doctor's office. They wanted to see me right away. Hmmm, ok. That's strange because it usually takes at least a day or two to get in to see them.

So I went in and got an exam. Before the doctor was even finished she said "Ok, which hospital do you want to go to?" WHOA THERE! Back up a bit there, missy! What do mean "hospital"? What's going on?

This particular doctor is of Indian persuasion and sometimes it's difficult to communicate. For instance, when she introduces herself, it's not "Hi, I'm Dr. Blah Blah." it's "This is Dr. Blah Blah." Which I think is kinda funny, but I tried not to laugh.

Ok, I got off on a tangent. So ANYWAY! She's looking at her watch wondering if she can get me in to the hospital that day. Let's just say I'm a little more than freaked out. It was too late for that day so she made arrangements for me as early as she could for the next morning. A biopsy, mammogram, and ultrasound were scheduled.

Holy crap. All this for one tiny little boob.

If you've ever seen the movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" you may remember the part where the main character's aunt tells her new in-laws about her lump. She had a lump and they did a "beebopsee" and took it out. When they took it out they found hair and a spinal cord... it was her twin. My 12yo daughter said "Hey! maybe you have a twin in your boob!" Mmm hmmm, thanks for that!

Anyway, I didn't know if I had to be admitted to the hospital, outpatient, what. I asked her if I could go do this by myself or if I needed my husband to go. With our communication barrier she says "Oh No! your husband can't do this. I can't even do this! That's why I'm sending you to the hospital!".

(sigh).... No No NO.. what I MEAN is do I have to take someone WITH me to these procedures! Ok, so we got through that issue finally.

Then she told me the lump was easy to find because "you do not have the (pause) massive (hand gestures) breasts that some women do". Uh yeah... that's pretty obvious, but thank you for pointing that out!

Since my hubby is still hobbling along on one leg and two crutches I told him he didn't have to go. I would be fine going by myself. Then one hour before I planned to leave work to head in there, I get a phone call that my Dad wants to go with me. No! No! NO! I don't want my Dad in there!!!!!! I know he means well and wanted to be there for me, but I really wasn't in the mood to have him get philosophical about my boobs!!!!!! (groan) So, because he felt that someone should be with me, poor hubby drove himself and crutched in there to meet me.

I always feel guilty when someone has to spend that kind of time on me. He couldn't go in for the mammogram or ultrasound (not sure why), but he did get to come in for the final procedure.

The mammogram showed odd things. But don't you love those little pasties they put on your nipples that have the cute and tiny bee-bee on the end? It would be more fun if they would blink. I had a difficult time getting my body close enough to the machine for it to properly squish my lack of massivity into the clamp. I couldn't find a place to put my face!!!! When I got closer, there was equipment in the way of my head and I was contorted all around just to get it in there. The tech was moving my hips, turning my waist, getting my hair out of the way (shoulda worn my cap), adjusting my arms, pulling my shoulders back and forth, trying to get my tiny boobages lying flat on the platter, and then trying to help me find a spot for my face. I asked the tech if it was easier with bigger ones and all I got was a "huh uh".

In any case, they then shipped me off to ultrasound. I was a little apprehensive when a young man came out to get me for that part. Gawd, I'm not usually shy about my boobs, but my muffin was totally spilling over the tops of my jeans and that just wasn't something I wanted to prance around showing off.

The ultrasound went ok though. The young guy was really nice and made it clear that mine was just another boob and he made sure to keep my muffin covered :-). He confirmed what was suspected and found about eight or nine cysts in that one boob! What the heck???? Two were quite large being a couple-three centimeters large. The picture I saw on the monitor looked like a ghost with two black eyes. I was supposed to get a copy, but we all forgot by the time I left there. Here's a nice example of what I saw today only there were two this size fairly close to one another.

Because cysts are benign, they told me a full biopsy would not be necessary but that they would aspirate the fluid out of the two large cysts. I said "Ok". They were quite painful and they couldn't guarantee that that pain would disappear, so we decided to suck those babies out and make them smaller.

Then to make matters worse, the doctor who came in to actually do the procedure was dang near a freaking Doogie Howser. And to top it off, he was cute too. Argh. Why couldn't I get some wrinkled old guy who had seen more boobs than Hugh Hefner? I had to keep reminding myself that I was merely another 46yo boob on the table and not to be embarrassed. It wasn't easy, but I pulled it off.

I must admit I was a little dismayed in the fact that my cysters were making my breast appear larger and I was quickly about to lose that. But I thought about my smaller and neglected right boob and realized the size difference may throw me off balance for riding, so out they come!!!!!

The worst part was probably the lidocaine they injected prior to actually sticking the looooooong (ok not so long because I do not have massive mammories) thin aspirating needles deep into my breastage. He had to stick me four times to get the two pockets of fluid. Two loads of lidocaine and then twice to aspirate. Then my boob was all swelled up because of all the painkiller in there. HA! The ultrasound guy laughed and said "See? you were worried we made you smaller, and you're bigger!" Har Har.

My best friend has some of those (pause) massive (hand gesture) breasts and she got a reduction a few years ago. We tease her about her 4" lift-kit. They are still marvelously large breasts now and we use them to our advantage. I know that sounds weird, but when we're together, they do come in handy at times.

Now I can say I had a reduction too!!!!! My cysters were basically reduced to two small gaps and with any hope they'll stay that way.

I was told to restrict my activity to "normal use" and then he said "no throwing bales". Well hell, chores ARE my normal use. He nixed that and said to go home and rest. So I did. My wonderful 12yo daughter finished show-horse chores. My friend who boards here showed up so she supervised. It all went well and although I'm sore, I'm happy that it was nothing serious.

Git 'Er Done

I've recently realized just how spoiled I have been by my husband. It's not that I chose to fall in to this spot, but our schedules turned out to allow him to get home sooner than me and he would always start chores and have them mostly finished by the time I got home. It worked well for those evenings when we had a horse event to attend and then he would have the trailer hitched, horses caught and be ready to go! What a deal for me!

However, two weeks ago my husband slipped on some ice and broke his ankle. Well hell... this is not good! My days of leisure seemed to have come to a screeching halt! After one week of hobbling around on crutches with a broken bone, he went in to surgery and came out with a plate and eight screws holding his foot to the rest of his leg. Waiting on him has reminded me of having a baby in the house again. The constant checking, feeding, changing! (ok, not diapers, but helping him to dress and such) and monitoring have both my 12 year old daughter and me running constantly.

It makes him crazy that he can't help out so he'll perch himself on a chair outside and shout orders to us. We quickly learned to feign deafness because we know exactly what to do and are usually in the midst of that certain chore as he's offering instruction. I guess it makes him feel like he's contributing? Heck, I don't know... but we just go on with our business.

The only part that I realized would be difficult for me to handle was the task of moving round bales. My gawd those things are heavy and non-forgiving. The horses sure do love them though. We are lucky to have bought 50 bales that were cut right here adjacent to our place. But the hayguy just left them out in the field so we take the pickup out, hook a chain on, and drag it to the feeding area. Not so bad if it's 60 degrees out and sunny. A horrifying experience when it's 10 degrees and freezing rain or snow. Boy that chain gets cold on the hands. You have to take your gloves off in order to hook it on. Brrrrr!

So far I've been fortunate to have local guy-friends come over and take care of that for me. Or my Dad struggles to do it. He offered to do it yesterday but he's not in the greatest shape either and it takes forever. He will try to go do it himself before I even realize he's out there. Then he comes staggering in telling me how bad he hurts. What the hell is it with men anyway? Is it bravado to see just how bad you can damage yourself????

So yesterday I told him I had someone coming over to do it. That kept him home and safe. I had fully intended to do it myself when I saw my best girlfriend sign on to the computer. AH HA! maybe her hubby can come and help me! She wrote back that they had the skidloader at the house that day and this would be the day to do it YAYAYAY!

So friend's hubby came over with the skidloader. It's such a cute little thing. Small but mighty! I was a little worried when I saw the back wheels come up from the weight of the bale though. I guess it couldn't have tipped far, but I had never seen one do that before. It was bucking lol.

As I was standing at the far south gate waiting for Rich to come back through, LG became fascinated with the fact that I was standing "over there" and was perked up and staring at Rich and the giant bale. He looked SO pretty there all attentive.

Rich put one bale in for the A-Team and had to beep-beep them to keep them out of the way. I'm sure they thought they were starving. Look who's there trying to snag a bite... IVAN! lol

We put the 2nd bale up behind the colts pen so it will be easy to drag it in from there. Lou found me out in the field and loped around biting snow as we ran along with Rich. It's beautiful outside. Ok, so it's only about 9 degrees.... but I did some running that got my blood flowing. At one point I took off running across the pasture to the south gate. It's been years since I actually ran. Heck, I used to do it for FUN! I started to get out of breath, but since he was driving behind me I cowgirled up and kept running. I was determined not to let him see me huffing and puffing. I MADE IT! Whew!

I needed to get the feeder over the top of the bale and he asked if I wanted him to help me. I pondered for a second and said "yeah". I went over to it and he was still standing talking to my hubby. I got it hefted up (whoof) and pushed straight up as far as my arms would reach. CRAP! I'M NOT TALL ENOUGH LOL! I never was good at math and it dawned on me that an eight-foot feeder was not going to be set on end by a 5-2 chubby woman.

I got it partway and I couldn't push it high enough to get it on end lmao! Rich stood at the gate and laughed at me. I was just kinda stuck there for the moment. So he came over and pushed on the other side so it was on end and could roll it to the bale. I was downhill (dumb dumb) but I'm not so sure I could have gotten it high enough even if I had started from the other side. So he rolled it over and set it over the bale and then I proceeded to remove the strings. Too bad I didn't get a picture of that part! My camera was in my pocket and if had let go with one hand I probably would have lost it and would have had to jump to the middle so it didn't crash on my head.

By the time I was finished with all the chores I had a wonderful sweat going on. I even unzipped my heavy coat to cool off. All bundled up, it felt like it was about 60 outside. It felt great.

Hmmmm I should have weighed myself.

In any case. I CAN do this and it makes me feel great that I can. I'm very grateful for my husband and all the help offered, but I'm even more grateful that I was reminded I'm not a piece of fluff who lets the man do all her work.

I feel good. :-)

OCR John Wayne "Johnnie" May 2002 - January 2008

From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a horse," or, "that's a lot of money for just a horse". They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a horse. Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a horse."

Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a horse," but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a horse," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a horse" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day. If you, too, think it's "just a horse," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."

"Just a horse" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. "Just a horse" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of "just a horse" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future. So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a horse" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment. "Just a horse" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a horse" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a woman." So the next time you hear the phrase "just a horse" just smile, because they "just" don't understand.

I miss you Johnnie... Rest in peace my friend.

I hope you had the time of your life.