abigail414's diaryland diary
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Life is good, we are safe
Although I bemoaned in my last entry that I may no longer be writing like a crazy person, I'm still not very sane. One day I want to break up with HB, and then I want to go off to L.A. and live with him or marry him. Sometimes I feel like a competent vet and other times I think I should call a real vet into the exam room. I know this is not normal, and my therapist pulls me off the ceiling weekly.
Last week, I went to the North American Veterinary Conference in Florida. I�ve never liked Florida much (too flat, below sea level) and this visit was no exception. It was cold and rainy and my flight was re-routed from Atlanta because of a snowstorm (that should have been a clue to pack fleece and rain gear, but I was �going to Florida�). I went to seminars on heart failure, animal behavior, feline obesity, gastrointestinal diseases, and ran an endoscope six times. The latter is why I went � we have a new, expensive endoscope at work and no one knows how to use it.
I roomed was another veterinarian from my clinic who happens to be a dyke lesbian. I wasn�t worried because she isn�t my type, and is involved in a long term relationship with another woman. As luck would have it, we came in at midnight and the hotel was overbooked, so we got a two bedroom villa for the same price. Perfect for two people accustomed to a lot of space. Plus I could hunker down and watch the NFL playoffs instead of going to a Michigan State Alumni dinner. Or, take a long Jacuzzi soak instead of going to the Leann Rimes concert. It was nice to have such a nice hotel room.
Twenty five years ago, I did a lot of flying on my job and it was just fine. I accumulated enough frequent flyer miles for two tickets from Michigan to Cancun. At some point, flying became a challenge and I decided that the best strategy was to be ready to die before a flight, so I wouldn�t worry so much on the plane. I have regularly written pre-flight wills and bought flight insurance. My anxiety abated somewhat after my skydiving phase, but I still plan to die when I fly.
While on the runway in California, I wanted to call HB and tell him that I love him. I wanted to say it before I died. But a part of me was worried about how I would deal with it if I lived. I mean, sometimes I don�t know if it is true and at other times I don�t want to be the first to say it. So I called and left a nervous message that I cared a lot for him and wanted him to know before I took off and possibly crashed. He left a message that he also cared a lot for me and to call when I got to Florida. He just goes with whatever I do as if it is perfectly normal.
Obviously, I made it to and from Florida just fine. And at this point I think HB and I are just fine. As a vet, I regularly see repeat clients who ask for me, so must be fairly competent, in spite of my misgivings. Several times a day I unconsciously say a mantra to myself 'life is good, we are safe' - now, if I'd only believe it.
8:05 p.m. - 2008-01-30
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