Diary of a LAN Manager

Cancer sucks. I'm not whining, I'm just stating facts. It sucks. It doesn't play by the rules, and it certainly doesn't fight fair. When they said Momma's cancer was back, Iwas frustrated. She already fought this thing. It should have been the end of it, not just the beginning. When they said it was just in her lungs, I was slightly encouraged. There's no cure, but there can be control - it's possible to keep it beaten into submission. But they didn't tell us the whole truth, and they may not have known the whole truth, so I'll try not to lash out at the people I believe are trying to help her, not hurt her. The MRI painted a much darker picture. Three spots on the brain. And oh-by-the-way, what are you doing about the tumors on the spine? WHAT tumors on the spine? Who knew? When did they know? Why didn't they communicate this? But again, it does no good to bash the people who are trying to help. So a new battle plan has to be executed in this fi

I have a picture on my desk of my dog. I don't keep photos of the kids. I should, but it's something I didn't do before, and while I have them at home, I just don't do it here at work. But I have a photo of Bear, stuck in a gaudy green magnetic "My Dog Is Incredible" frame I got for signing up for a newsletter. The photo was taken back in Greenfield, probably in '97 or '98. She was maybe three years old, tops. I used to joke with people that she liked that picture best, because it was taken when she still had her girlish figure and she didn't weigh the 120 she did five years later. She's all smiles, contented lounging on the floor, ears perked up. It's the way I want to remember her, full of life, contentment, and just happy to be a part of the family. Today was a rough day. I didn't want to do it. But I knew it was really past time, and that nothing the vet could do could undo aging. She was 13, her hips and muscle mass was fading fast