A Nation of Whiners?

The latest from MoveOn:

A Moment's Clarity

It's working. I think it's working. Life and energy, and clarity of vision.... Oh god, is this place dirty! As my focus returns, I swear there is actual fuzz. On the objet d'art, there appears to be light brown chick fuzz. No, no I'm not hallucinating, there is fuzz. And every lovely oak surface is dusty. I say this charitably. And it appears I have been eating in bed, as there is a brown stain on the edge of my top sheet that can only be chocolate ice cream. The surface of the kitchen table has smears of butter and a scattering of crumbs and is covered with a neat pile of mail--Melea brings it out and stacks it for me--She is the daughter who seems to love me best. Though it is, perhaps, the fact that she hasn't really seen me at my worst. Oh, she thinks she has, but no, no. She has not seen me at my worst.

I have friends at Face Book, or My Space or however you young people say it, type it. Whatever. Anyway, I have friends. So there Randal. Oh, by the way Randal, do you have an Agent I could borrow? We have a book that needs publishing. Na na, na na, na, na. Anybody have an Agent? We have several stories that I believe have great cinematic potential. And we have a diversity of cultures, ages, and voices. It's a really interesting book, and it's speeding to it's chilling conclusion. Among our writers we have four really great editors and that's a godsend for a good collaboration. Each writer knows what she intends to say. These are damn strong women, overworked and raising families, moving to France in one case. I am the least able editor, and the only writer who spends half her day stretched out in bed, watching any old crap on MSNBC or CNN. This is a shameless admission. Oh well.

So, aside from writing this rather manic gloat, I have changed my bed, washed my laundry, and begun the dusting. I washed two dog bed covers, my towels. Fascinating isn't it. I also got a heart monitor to wear for the next month. Just like a tiny EKG. Then I cleaned my fridge, and went to the grocery store. I thought for a few minutes yesterday, that I might have lost my apatite and would lose some weight, but sadly that's not likely. For dinner, I had three thick lamb chops and fresh, cut from the cob, Texas style, creamed corn--one of my long departed grandmother's delicacies. All in all it's been a good day. And if when you read this, it's complete gibberish, we'll know I'm not tuned up quite right yet.

Something For We The People

Send Karl Rove to Jail

I received this in my morning email alerts. Please pass it on. Let's see Karl face a little justice from the Justice Department he has worked so hard to politicize. Executive privilege my ass.

In My Travels

Yesterday when I was visiting sites I've missed napping as I adjusting to my bipolar drug change, while looking in on Franiam I found her post dedicated to this site and this post. It really resonates for me because I could so easily be homeless. Had I not taken care of my mother in her descent into dementia, and inherited her house, I very well might be homeless. Thanks to what began with the Reagan "revolution," we now have no facilities to care for those who cannot care for themselves. It will get worse. The mortgage meltdown, bank failures, a falling dollar, rising costs and gas prices rising almost daily, we are in deep dodo. I know this isn't news to any of you, but I am old enough to know that prior to Reagan we did not have a "homeless problem." I've talked about this before and not that long ago, but thanks to Franiam, we now have this site to educate us, and make it real in a way nothing else does, short of being homeless yourself. Please read this: Under the Overpass

Scrambled Brains For Breakfast, Anyone?

This is one of them many things about bipolar disorder that I really, really hate. You're going along thinking you're doing just fine, and then, like a good little patient, you keep your scheduled appointment with your shrink. Not all bipolar patients are as compliant as I, but than most bipolar patients don't live this long. So, there I am bringing her up to date on my situation, and it turns out that the old school anti-depressant I've been doing so very well on is implicated in "cardiac events." It's also implicated in fat, but aren't most of them? Anyway, now I'm doing the Alice in Wonderland bit, where she takes a bite of this, and it makes her really fat, and she take a bite of that, and it makes her disappear. Did you even notice that I disappeared yesterday? Thanks Randal and Beach, at least now I know who my real friends are.

So now my brains are so scrambled I can't read, write, or stay awake long enough to do much of anything. Just as I was going down for the count today, shortly after waking up, I had the foresight to call the one friend I thought might call, and tell her I was taking a "nap," so if she had anything to say to me, say it quick, and then don't wake me up with a phone call, please. I thought of calling my other friend--yeah, I am that popular--but got too sleepy to pull it off. And who doesn't like a good nap, anyway. Well, three or six hours into mine, the phone goes off like a bomb, right next to my head. I come out of my sleep and croak, softly, so as not to hurt myself, "Hello???" When what I really wanted to do was scream, "Who the fuck is this!!!" Well, of course it was my other friend, the one I didn't call to tell I was taking a nap. "She says, "You sound strange, are you alright?" To which I answer, "I'm taking a nap, you woke me up." The second half of that was perfectly obvious, but somehow needed to be said. Then she said, "Well, I'm worried about you, you don't sound like yourself." I just should have said, "I'm not myself. You have the wrong number," but she'd have never fallen for that one. So I said, "I'm not exactly myself, I'm seesawing between two competing drugs, and my brains are scrambled." To which she replied, "Well, you missed Olbermann." The TV was on and sure enough, there was Dan Abrams talking to that annoying twit, Contessa Brewer. Then my friend said, something that sounded like bla, bla, bla. It was all very well intentioned and for my own good I'm sure, but god, how I wanted to sleep on and on into the night. Fortunately, Olbermann gets a second hour following Dan, so the day wasn't wasted after all, but my nap sure was.

If you're thinking I sound like I'm slipping into depression, this is what it feels like, but it probably won't last very long. In the early days of real antidepressant therapy, they just slammed you on a full dose and that was that. Now they treat us like the delicate flowers that we must be, and ease us off one drug as they ease us on another. Me, I prefer the old way. Get it over with quick. But I'm a good little patient, and I follow my doctors instructions.

In the meantime, you will not know who you're going to get, Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. Good luck, it's bound to be a bumpy ride.

I got Nothing, But I have a Friend Who Does Have Plenty To Say To All Of Us Today

The blogger with the French name and who has just immigrated to France, has posted on an online magazine with a great piece about Verdun and WWI. So, without her permission, I give it to you here. Kim is the woman known to us as Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien.

Please go to her site today, and read this piece. It is far better than any of the crap I might give you today. I'm still nursing my many piddling problems. And really, there are days when you just don't have the goods to give. This is one of those days for me. But her post is worth reading for so many reasons. Trust me, have I ever given you bad advise? Well, maybe once. But not this time.

In the meantime, I will be thinking. And mostly about war. War and the crushing poverty and destruction it leaves in it's wake. Honor really should never be a word associated with war. There is so little that could be called honor when killing and blowing shit up is the mission.

The Tooth Fairy

I need a tooth fairy. For me that would be someone with really good painkillers that don't make me puke and don't cost much. Or a sugar daddy who'd pay for my dental implants. I've been trying to keep my two bottom molars for the last three or four years, and its a serious battle that I can honestly say started in my childhood with tin-can braces and living in a small town miles from any orthodontist. Then the when tin cans come off, every tooth is decayed underneath. Then I get a mouth full of silver fillings, then a tooth dies here, and the lovely one gets a gold crown. Then finally porcelain crowns. And now momma needs implants.

I've been trying for all this time to keep one good chewing surface, and it's a nasty battle. They start to ache and the pain goes down my jaw and into my neck. They feel higher (and not in a good way) so that when my back teeth touch top to bottom it sends a shiver of pain radiating out into my jaw and down my neck. It gives me a headache nothing will cure. And I hear, this kind of thing could end up killing you. Sadly, I'm one of those people that can't take narcotics without a really good anti-nausea drug on board to prevent the unfortunate puking, as I run for the toilet. Oh, I know it's early to be talking about such things, but there you have it. I'm not feeling good.

My handsome dentist, bless his sweet, pretty, blue eyed self, always keeps up with the latest gadgetry in dental marvels. He has a laser drill, that if I had a cavity, would zap it quietly and painlessly--alas, this is not my problem. This dental saga might have ended differently, if I were rolling in dough, or had started life with a different set of parents. All this might have been avoided. But a lifetime of grinding my porcelain crowns, when I sleep, into cracked and splintered nubs, has left me phobic of the next expensive dental horror I face. I'm told I could solve this whole mess with a mouthful of perfectly lovely dental implants for around $30,000. And that's a whole other kind of nightmare. It'll be that, or some ghastly form of dentures. Oh god, old age is a nightmare.

And then, yesterday, when I went to my doctor for my ten day check of the clotting factor, my blood pressure was 180/104, and my blood was like sludge. It oozed from the finger prick and would not drop. So now I have to take it easy, increase my warfarin (sounds just like me--that warfarin woman) take an antibiotic which rips my gut up, something for the nausea, something for the pain, and go back to bed.

These are the vicissitudes of having lived an exciting and adventurous life. Eventually the piper must be paid. Now, I think I'll take the mornings dose of drugs and go back to bed. Have a lovely day darlings.

Moving Day

Just when I'm getting comfortable with my cozy little place here in the intertubes, my Administrator tells me I need to go public. WTF? I thought this was public.. But no. Not public enough for my Administrator. He has faith in me. Why, you might ask? I'm not really sure, because he hasn't read my "fiction," doesn't read "poetry," and isn't terribly interested in politics--my bread and butter, or cornbread and cantaloupe, to be more accurate. When we were first getting to know each other, in the way one gets to know someone you've never actually seen, I decided to share with him one of my "Aging Barbie" pieces--he hated it. I mean really hated it. He thought I was so full of shit. We argued about it for days.

Another thing he hated about my writing was my "over use of the expletive." He said something like, "You're a better writer than that; you don't need that." Well, honestly, I can barely write a sentence without the swear words. I thought it would be like writing wearing a straightjacket. I should have said, "You hate what I write, how can you say I'd be a better writer?" Well, it turns out, he doesn't really hate how I write, so much as he hates what I write about. "There's a difference?" Yes, Dorothy, there is a difference.

Here's another thing about my relationship with my Administrator--in his world, I'm so dumb, most of the time I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. ULR? This means something? Some of your sites require registering, and still I don't know how to type my ULR thingy into the required field. I think at Unconventional Conventionist, it still says in my ULR field, "what the fuck's a ULR?" Maybe at Jonestown, too. So, have I come a long way, baby? Not really. Seven months into this adventure and I still don't know what any of the serious smart blogger things are, or how to do them. I can write my daily post, but unlike the rest of you blogging artists, I can't illustrate it, or drop in the perfect clip, or link it, to back up what I say with source material, or photoshopped images, or music clips. I'm an amateur when it comes to the tricks of the trade, and many of you have tried to help me. I thank you all for your generosity and kindness, but I'm the sort of woman who hasn't read instructions since I stopped taking tests in college. So, to translate words in an email into performing a trick like the strike-through, is like pulling a rabbit out of a hat--beats me how it's done. But I do appreciate the magic of it all.

The loveliest thing about my Administrator is his generosity and patience. He has come to understand the way my brain works and doesn't work. Certain things, I'll probably never quite understand. But the beauty of having someone like my Administrator, is that when I'm stuck, and my brain is bipolarly scrambled, he just comes over to my side of the screen and does it for me. Sometimes we Ichat. Sometime we chat voice to voice, and sometimes he just comes right over to my side and takes over the controls and does it for me, while I sit back and watch. Magic! It's nothing short of Magic to me. My dog, Cyrus, thinks my computer is a person, since I spend some time talking to it everyday, and it talks back to me. Roscoe, who I babysit most days, thinks we have been invaded by the invisible man, and barks ferociously when Phillip comes in to talk with me, and has to be put outside for the duration.

All this to simply say, I am now at netvibes. This is an "rssfeed," whatever that means. Nice thing about the new sites, is that they all lead back home, where I'm just getting cozy. But now I'm building a real identity at Face Book, using my real name and all--scary stuff. He insists I should have a My Space page--I thought My Space was for teenagers, but no, Martin Scorsese is there. Who knew? So netvibes it is. Look out world, here I come! Thank god no one can see me.

I'm Spiderman, Who Knew?

---

63%
Catwoman

---

60%
Hulk

---

60%
Robin

---

55%
The Flash

---

55%
Batman

---

55%
Wonder Woman

---

53%
Superman

---

50%
Green Lantern

---

40%
Iron Man

---

25%

You are intelligent, witty,
a bit geeky and have great
power and responsibility.



Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test

While We're On The Subject, Let's Talk Crazy

I know it gets old, but that's easy for you to say, you don't have to live in my head. Try that for a month or so, and then you'll want to talk about it. You know what some people say: Crazy's like a box of chocolates--you never know what you're gonna get till you bite into it, and sometimes, it's not what you had in mind. Hell, if I could choose not to be crazy, would I? Maybe, maybe not. Am I the kind of woman who bites into a chocolate that's a little more exotic than I bargained for and then spits it out? Hell no, I eat that fucker. And sometimes I enjoy it. If I weren't crazy would I still be able to write? Would I still love with such ferocity? These are questions of no small importance to me. But I will tell you this: there are certain drugs for my kind of craziness that I will not take. No matter what. Because they kill the creative impulse in some, and that's enough to scare the bejeezus out of me.

I won't say what the drugs are that I will never, ever take, because they save the lives of millions. But for me, if I couldn't write, I rather die, and that's the honest to god's truth. Writing is like breathing for me. I can't live without it.

When I lived with husband number three, he was the writer, and I was his life support. I typed his rough drafts and edited them for him. I read aloud to him every book he was required to read for his PhD in English Lit/Creative Writing. The morning he went to take his Orals, I sat bolt upright out of a sound sleep and said, "Good luck. And remember, the fork ran away with the spoon."

I used to suggest story ideas to him, and he'd always reject them. Well, Junior, these stories are mine, now. Good luck. And as a writer, how are you liking the job as Chairman of the English Department? And the student you got pregnant and had to marry? Has she left you yet? Hope you get to see the kids now and then.

Acting Crazy

Many of you will be too young (or claim you are) to have heard of Little Feat, But back in the day, before most of you kids were born, no not you, you're nearly as old as I. Don't look around, pretending I'm not talking to you--but you kids, the ones of you in your forties, probably don't remember Little Feat. First incarnation began in 1969, and the live recording that Old Folks Boogie comes from is called, Waiting for Columbus, and was performed in 1977 at the Rainbow Theatre in London. They're categorized as Blues/Rock/Country. Most of you will probably hear this as country and hate it. But I listen to your music, and pretend to like it. Oh hell, I did tell you the truth about that, didn't I? Damn. If you aren't going to listen, then I'm going to make you read some of the lyrics, because they speak to me of the situation I find myself in these days.

"Off our rockers, acting crazy, and with the right medication we won't be lazy"

(Now you're starting to understand what I'm talking about?)

"Old folks boogie, boogie they will
Cut you up, 'cause it's as good as a thrill"

The point I'm trying to make, is that whether you're bipolar or just old and crazy, sometimes you just can't help being impatient and cruel. You don't even know your doing it. I'm not talking about you fairlane. You just seem to get off on it. Me, I can't help myself. I've got an excuse.

And, as always, just when I'm wanting it, here comes ghost with this: Willin'

For Stella, and K, And Mary Ellen

Stella at Swiftspeech
K at the iKoniclast
Mary Ellen at the Divine Democrat

I apologize to you all for not really listening, for insulting you and for being a really bad hostess. I can only claim craziness. I have talked about this before, but I am bipolar. Yesterday I had my regularly scheduled visit with my Psychiatrist. I'm now on a new antidepressant. Maybe I'll get nicer, more patient, and better at listening. I hope you will not hold a grudge. I didn't mean to be rude, but I was rude. I didn't mean to be insulting, but I was insulting. I didn't mean to not hear you, but I didn't hear you. And as an old crazy, woman who has locked herself up with a new computer and few visitors, I didn't mean to be a bad hostess, but I was--I never have much opportunity to be a hostess in the real world, and so my hostess chops are rusty and need to be upgraded. I'll work on that.

To k, I wish to apologize for not recognizing the courage of your honesty about your own very personal comment, and why you are justifiably angry with me, and with Senator Obama's position on late-term abortions. Your honesty was breathtaking. It takes real courage to talk about the personal in a public forum. I salute you, especially you. And I am sorry for not recognizing what was happening in my own comments thread.

But mostly I want to say, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me.

Thank You Ghost Dansing

From ghost dansing, who can always be counted on to supply the song you need, when you really need to be reminded about something important-- like why we need a Democrat in the White House. Thank you ghost. And now we give you one very good reason to vote for Barack Obama.

Please watch as you listen to this song. I think this is the first time I have ever been able to perform this trick. Thank you, you sweet computer savvy people who have sent me email to try to help me learn the ropes. Every little bit of advise and instruction is appreciated. As I've said before, this is new territory for me. But it's really my patient, busy Administrator, who has stayed with me, as I try it over and over, like you would with a child. Thank you Phillip. (I know you won't like the clip, but you did teach me how to do it.)

Randy Newman and George W Bush. Please watch as you listen to this song. Nothing says it like this: Mr. President, Have Pity On The Working Man

Hillary's Debt is not Barack's to Pay

I'm one of the many small donors to Barack Obama. Yeah, even though I live well below the poverty level, if I had $10 at the end of the month, off it went to MyBarackObama.com. Yes that was me. I'm one of the millions of little donors who believed that the way to finance a campaign was through a grass roots organization. And boy, did it work! And now the party's over. Barack is our nominee, and Hillary lost. I didn't give her money for so many reasons, but one of them was that I didn't like the way she ran her campaign. I didn't like the people at the top of her campaign. I didn't want to pay their salaries. And I still don't. My feeling is that if she isn't going to pay my debt, why the hell should I pay hers? If she had not played brinksmanship at the end of her campaign, when we all knew she had no chance of getting the number of delegates to win, then the money she loaned herself is hers to pay. Mark Penn's salary is her debt. Any bloated lobbyist who was advising her, and is standing around waiting for me and all the rest of Obama's small donors to pony up and pay them, should take a look in the mirror. Mr. Penn, Mr Wolfson, Terry McAullif and all the rest of the morons advising her to say in it to the end, because she could still keep raising money, were giving her bad advise. They should be payed what their advise was worth--nothing.

To me, the negotiations to "retire" Hillary's debt is nothing more than a mugging. Yes, Senator Obama, I'll support you enthusiastically, if you pay my debt??? WTF! Not so fast. If you have millions to loan yourself to finance your failing candidacy, then you have no business asking anyone to pay you to campaign for them. Either you want a Democrat in the White House or you don't. If you don't, then stay home or vote for John McCain. Or is she saying, if you retire my debt, I'll be your Vice President? Not so fast on that one either. I don't want her in the White House again. I don't want Bill there either. That's one small reason I didn't donate money to her campaign in the first place. Yes, I do want to see a female President. I just didn't want our first female president to be the wife of Bill Clinton.

Homelessness

It's going to get a lot worse, and may stay that way for a long time. Homelessness is bad now, but watch what a falling dollar and rising prices does to the rise in homelessness. The Mortgage Crises, job loses, no health insurance or dental care--this oncoming train is going to hurt a lot of people, and they aren't all strangers. Even the middle-class will start feeling as if they are a month away from disaster. The elderly who have no families are especially at risk. And almost anyone with mental health issues, and no inheritance or big family to keep them afloat, are already on the street.

I have the ability to block out commercials on TV or reading the news online. Some of you advertise on your sites--I don't see it. We all do this to some extent, but if you were born in the late '70s or early '80s, you will probably think we have always had a homeless "problem." And it's easy for you to ignore them--they have always been with you, in your peripheral vision. But, no, they haven't always been with us, especially in these numbers--we have Ronald Reagan to thank for emptying the State and Federally supported Mental Health Facilities all across the country. Wards of the State came pouring out with no safety-net, and often no family willing to care for them. I remember it well. And I've alway wondered why anyone ever called Ronald Reagan one of our greatest Presidents. Was not!

I had a friend who was an Air Traffic Controller when Reagan came to power. I remember his complaints about the extreme stress of that job. There were too few Controllers, and too many aircraft, in too tight a space, in most major airports across the country. Air Traffic Controllers were Union workers. They were being asked to give up benefits, work longer shifts with fewer breaks. They went on strike, and Reagan busted the Union. (That was just for starters). And many of the Air Traffic Controllers who were replaced by inexperienced, non-union workers, were unable to find work. Pretty soon their unemployment benefits ran out and there were no jobs, that fit their lifetime experience as an Air Traffic Controller. Once your unemployment benefits run out you are no longer counted among the unemployed. At this point, without a family safety-net, you can so easily fall through the cracks and end up homeless.

The subject of the mess that Ragean made is more than I meant to suggest here, but it got me thinking.

In Case You Doubted...

In case you doubted it, a daily serving or two of Jiffy Corn Bread for breakfast, and a nightly, bedtime treat of a chocolate ice-cream cone, can make you really fat, it's true. Fat. I look preggers to me. We're (my friends and I) are calling this baby Corn Pone. I even walk like I 'm preggers--waddle waddle, hefting my gut around. I think it's time to change my diet. Melea, my friend who is still in her twenties, but not by much, suggested that I start wearing Muumuus. Snotty little bitch. This new baby better be nicer than that.

Well I've baked brownies for a friend, (you know who you are) and now I have to go find some fat clothes at the second hand store. I have an appointment with my Shrink on Thursday. I want to look my best for her, since my fucking fate lies in her hands. I'm thinking it might be time to switch one of my mood stabilizing drugs. Because there's one thing I know; I want to stay out of the looney bin. Sorry folks if calling it that is offensive, but if you spent any time in one, you know what I mean. Let's not pussy foot around here. I'm fat and a little crazy.

Best Friends

Yesterday I got a phone call from Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Angel Canyon, near Canyon Lands in Southern Utah. They were calling to see how Cyrus and I were doing together. I was so grateful to get the call, and have the chance to tell them of his distress. I told the young man that Cyrus was in distress over the fireworks and was now on anti-anxiety drugs and these new drugs along with his twice daily dose of Rimadyl and Thyroxinel and his new dose of Clomicalm brought his Vet bill up to $140 a month. I will tighten my belt another notch to keep this dear dog, but it's getting to close to breaking the bank point, not to mention the distress this fear is causing both of us. He asked me a couple of questions, asked me to give them my email address so he could have their trainer email me with suggestions for helping this very gentle, sweet old giant of a dog.

When I hung up the phone, I was leaking tears, so touched that they were calling on Sunday after a long holiday weekend. And sure enough, within a half an hour, I got an email from the trainer there asking a few questions about Cyrus' behavior during this stressful holiday season. I wrote back giving all the details of his reactions to loud noises that might be gunshot-like. I told her how this started small and got serious enough to put Cyrus on Clomicalm. And in minutes back comes a email with this article. Maybe it willbe useful to some of you with sensitive pets. Now I'm off to the grocery store to by some melatonin.

MELATONIN

Melatonin has been found to be helpful when used with dogs who have "thunder-phobia," other noise-related reactions and other stressful situations. Melatonin has been used effectively to reduce seizures in dogs that seize between 11:00 PM and 6:00 AM. Quite a few members of our Canine Epilepsy community have also discovered that it seems to lessen the frequency and/or severity of seizures at other times of the day.

Melatonin is a naturally occurring substance produced by the pineal gland located in the brains of mammals. It is, by definition, a hormone and has been found to be involved in circadian rhythms - those inner cycles that tell all mammals when to sleep and when to wake. In recent years, synthetic melatonin has been marketed for people as a "natural" aid to sleeping.

In the May 2000 issue (Volume 3, Number 5) of The Whole Dog Journal is an article on melatonin and the positive results with noise and thunder-phobic dogs. The article begins on page 3 and is titled "Bring in Da Noise." The article has comments by Dr. Dodman and Dr. Linda Aronson. It does not discuss melatonin and canine epilepsy, but does discuss some of the concerns people might have with use of melatonin and their feelings on it.

Another article with references to the use of melatonin in dogs can be found in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association, Volume 215, No. 1, July 1999. "Vet Med Today: Animal Behavior Case of the Month" was written by Linda Aronson, DVM, MA; from the Department of Clinical Studies, School of Veterinary Medicine, Tufts University, North Grafton, MA.

The following is an excerpt from an email sent by Dr. Aronson to one of our Guardian Angels, Rich Brady: "To treat thunderstorm phobia, I use a dose of 3mg for a 35-100 lb dog. Smaller dogs get 1.5 mg, and larger dogs may get 6mg. The dose is given either at first evidence of thunderstorm - dog becomes agitated, distant rumbling of thunder, etc. or prophylactically before the owner leaves the house when thunderstorms are predicted. Dose may be repeated up to 3 times daily. The latter may be used as a dose for animals with more generalized stress related disorders."

Rich has written the following about his use of melatonin with his "pack" of Golden Retrievers: "I have posted a great deal in the past about my successes with melatonin as an adjunct therapy with Jake who had severe cluster seizures every 3 to 4 weeks which we were not able to gain control of until melatonin was added. We have been using melatonin since early 1997. We started with Jake and had good success and give 3mg nightly to our dogs, both the epis and non-epis. We have 6 dogs, currently ranging in weight from 35 lbs to about 90lbs, and 5 of the 6 get 3mg melatonin nightly. Dusty, who we adopted in July 1999, as a special needs Golden Retriever with epilepsy, did get melatonin for a number of months, but it did not seem to be helping him, so I stopped with him. He is a tough case to get control of, but we are slowly making headway. Zay on the other hand who we adopted January 1999, as a special needs Golden with epilepsy is doing great and has not had a seizure since we brought him home over 2 1/2 years ago. Zay was given his first melatonin on the way home in the car 1/99 and has been given 3mg nightly since. We give the melatonin anytime late evening. It seems to take about 30 minutes to start to take effect and help them get to sleep."

Rich recently (May 2002) contacted Dr. Aronson to ask if she had done any further studies with melatonin and/or published any other papers. As Rich says, "It does not benefit all dogs, but it has provided positive results for many, and as always, certainly everyone needs to make their own decisions with what they are comfortable with and what works."

Dr. Aronson's response to Rich follows:
"No, I continue to gather data and continue to find new uses for melatonin, but without research financing, publishing is low on my list of priorities. More and more owners and vets are using melatonin and it is gratifying to know that so many dogs have been helped. No one has done any research to show whether melatonin is safe in pregnant humans, hence the statement on the label, and I have therefore cautioned against its use in pregnant bitches, except in one case where the bitch was absolutely terrified by fireworks being released at the pub next door. Sadly she only had one (very healthy) puppy and he had to be delivered by C-section. However, the owner contacted me after having already gone through a wretched night with a terrified bitch, she feels the fear caused problems with the pregnancy not the melatonin she gave the bitch the next night.

With regard to the other cautions on the melatonin bottle, I have used it, carefully, in dogs with autoimmune disease and also those on MAOIs; none had a problem. To date out of 1000s of dogs taking melatonin (some taking it daily for months and even years) this is the sum of reported side effects: 3 dogs were reported to be hyper. However, two of these belonged to the same owner, who said melatonin had the same effect on her. One dog seemed to become disoriented. He drank copiously and peed in the house (something he'd not done in nine years). The description sounded as if the dog might be mildly Cushingoid, and I recommended this be explored. The owner really just wanted to go ahead and use melatonin but maybe at half the dose, as he was very thunderstorm phobic and on melatonin totally unreactive. All signs of disorientation, and increased drinking and peeing had resolved within 4 hours. One owner reported that her dominant aggressive, dog-aggressive cocker spaniel lay down between obedience exercises, she thought this indicated sleepiness, I think it just meant he was a lot less reactive around the other dogs.

I have had search and rescue dogs successfully given melatonin to combat their fears of flying in turbo prop planes. It was the only treatment that allowed most of them to relax and yet let them perform their duties at the end of the flight.

Success is still running about 80%. Most useful for noise phobias, including thunderstorms, fireworks, gun shot, planes, helicopters, hot air balloons, show site noises, bird song, truck and other road noises. It also seems to help some cases of lick granuloma and separation anxiety.

Please feel free to cross post this information. It seems that melatonin is one of the safest products. Some of the failures I believe result from phobia induced seizure behavior. Others I'm not sure of the reason. Some dogs need to be dosed before the fear is established, others respond even if they are already reacting fearfully to the noise." -- Linda Aronson, DVM

Guardian Angels Nancy and Tahoe (Australian Shepherd): have also found that melatonin seems to have some positive effects on Tahoe's seizure activity. Nancy writes: "The brand I buy is by "Natrol"; it comes in 1 mg and 3 mg strengths. You want to use the natural made, vegetarian and not time-released. Generally a dose of 3mg for a 35-100 lb dog. Smaller dogs get 1.5mg and larger dogs may get 6mg. You can give it to your dog about 20 mins before bedtime. Tahoe would also seizure soon after falling asleep. I have seen a big improvement with him and nighttime seizures. I know others who use it for thunderstorm phobia and stressed out pooches."

Joy & Lacey - 56 lb Border Collie/Shepherd cross: It was suggested by this website to use Melatonin at night if your dog seizes during the middle of the night. That fit Lacey to a T. That was one of the really awful things we had to deal with from the beginning of our journey learning all about canine epilepsy. Lacey always seized in the middle of the night.

Melatonin has been a lifesaver for us. We are older adults and waking up in the middle of the night was brutal. We went through a very rough period where we were afraid to go to sleep. It may seem silly but we were so worried we wouldn't hear Lacey and wanted to make sure she didn't hurt herself. After using the Melatonin we started to see this pattern change immediately. I give her 3 mg of Melatonin an hour before we go to bed and Lacey started sleeping straight through the night. I will even give her 6 mgs at night if I feel she is twitchy or more than usual restlessness.

Yesterday was a typical example. We had a really bad weather system pass through Edmonton and the lightening and thunder was severe. A couple of Tornados were sited west of our house and generally Lacey doesn't really react to the storms but the lightening was lighting up the inside of the house and she got scared and started twitching. We gave her some rescue remedy with ice cream and she still was restless and pacing so it was around dinner time so I told my husband to give her a Melatonin. That did the trick. We are very much sold on this product.

Beth and Bailey (Siberian Husky 58 lbs.): Bailey hasn't had any seizures at night since I started giving him 3 mg of Melatonin an hour before bedtime. Over the week-end I noticed Bailey had been very anxious. I was worried about going to work on Monday, so I set up the video camera. I was gone for about 5 hours and all he did was pace and howl. I gave him a Melatonin when I got home which seemed to help. On Tuesday I set the camera up again, but this time I gave him the 3 mg of Melatonin before I left for work. He slept like a baby all morning. Thank goodness for Melatonin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For more information on melatonin, please click here: Melatonin

Melatonin can be purchased in most drug stores over the counter in the vitamin/supplement section. It comes in 1/10mg, 1mg, and 3mg tablets and in liquid form.

General information on what melatonin is, although not canine specific, can be found at:
http://www.melatonin.com

Three Straight Days Of Blowing Shit Up

Did the word go out, and I didn't get my notice, that this year, to commemorate the end of the reign of George W Bush, we will blow shit up every night, just to drive dogs, and children who go to bed early, and sensible old women NUTS????

And here in Utah where, in fact, it is still savage, we will do it twice a night, just because it's so damn fun!! And god knows, we're rolling in dough. Bring on The Rocket's Red Glare, The Bombs Bursting IN AIR!!! Will it go on all damn month? Will it go on until that MORON is gone, finally, at last? Or are they desensitizing us for the coup d'etat to come? Is King George getting us ready for the big finale? Keep the windows rattling night after night, and then do it for real, and nobody will notice. Just another night of KABOOM!!!

Two Down And One To Go

We survived two nights of fireworks. Two nights of Cyrus trembling and trying to crawl under my bed. Too bad for Cyrus, he just won't fit. Maybe before next July I can raise the bed a little. Roscoe was with us last night, and he did spend most of the time under my bed. I think it helped Cyrus to have the doggy company.

I am doing well enough today, considering. A bit of rapid cycling bipolar disorder kind of scrambles the brain. This makes clear thinking impossible. Not that I'm usually all that clear thinking, but this is worse than usual. For those who have never experienced the brain storms of rapid cycling, it doesn't compute, doesn't make sense, seems like an excuse not to go to work. I'd love to work on fiction, but don't quite trust myself enough to even tinker with a story in progress--I could screw it up with one delete, and then never be able to remember what I lost, perhaps the only thing that made it work. For all I know this is complete gibberish.

I once asked my first love/last love why he stayed with me. His answer was, "Well, it was a challenge." I asked, "Was it worth it?" His answer was, "It was never dull." It seems damn dull to me.

Cyrus is Hiding, Too

Sadly, Cyrus has what might be the canine version of a mood disorder. You may think I'm projecting, but Cyrus' Veterinarian is treating him with anti-anxiety drugs. It's the same way mental health professionals treat bipolar disorder--try this drug for awhile, if it doesn't help or makes things worse, we'll try another drug and see what happens. This approach to treating mental health problems is often very distressing for the patient. Sometimes the drug creates it's own new set of problems, since every drug comes with it's own set of side-effects. This often leads to non-compliance with treatment in humans. My dog Cyrus takes his peanut-butter covered pills without complaint, but this pill taking has not produced less fear of noises that go BOOM! Instead of making him more willing to go outside to pee, he seems less willing to budge from his bed next to mine.

Cyrus also has arthritis in his hips which requires 100mgs. of Rimadiyl twice a day. He has a funky thyroid that requires two doses of Thyroxinel, and now a big dose of an anti-anxiety drug called Clomicalm. His monthly vet bill just for drugs is $140. That's more than my ten or twelve drugs cost me, but there is, sadly, no medicare for dogs.

Last night was the first big test of the July madness of aerial orgasms lasting at least a half an hour. I was pissed all day that MSNBC was not give me my daily news fix, then last night (the 3rd of July) we had the unexpected bombardment that sounded like bombs falling all around the houses. Shock and Awe! Turns out it was the end of a soccer game. It shook the windows and we could feel it through out feet. The ground moved. This morning it took me and my neighbor and her dog Roscoe to lure Cyrus out to pee. Tonight we will go through it all again.