Today I saw this editorial, Dog’s Surgery Not Worth The Money”, on the Toronto Star and it enraged me. Basically in a nutshell, Ken Gallinger gives a reader an answer on whether he should put his dog down because he swallowed a ball or shell up $6000 for surgery. Oh yeah, and the dog is only four years old. The answer also goes on to say that even if you were made of money, there would be better things to use your money on like charities and starving people. As a dog owner this really bothered me. I wasn’t so much enraged with the question (maybe the dude didn’t have or know the proper means to help the dog), as I was with the answer.
Teddy injured his leg one time and we took him to the vet. Before the x-rays, they told us that there was potential he might need surgery (which was around $2000). We didn’t hesitate for a second. Thankfully the X-rays came back and it was heal-able on its own. Am I a sadist for not donating this money to charity instead? No, I just wanted to help my best friend.
Pets are as unpredictable as people at times. We both get sick and hurt but that doesn’t mean that we can value one over the other. The choice should not be between money and death. There were other alternatives to the situation such as seeking help from the Humane Society or similar organizations. Maybe even crowdfunding the 6k. I truly hope the owner of this dog makes the right decision for his young dog and ignores Gallinger.
Gallinger mentions having a cat, but I bet he’s never had a dog. He’s never had a dog welcome him every time he came back, even if it’s been five minutes. He’s never had a dog’s smile instantly lift his mood. He’s never had a dog defend him in an argument. He’s never had a dog hug him to sleep after he cried or made him feel like everything’s going to be okay. He’s never had a dog love him unconditionally.
It wasn’t until I was around 20 that I learnt why I was sick when I was around 4. Growing up I just periodically had to go to Sick Kids for checkups every year and I just assumed it was a regular routine thing for a growing child. I’m completely healthy now, whatever strain of leukemia I had (I’m still somewhat unclear on all the details), it was curable. Doctor visits have become much less frequent and trying to recall the events of back then is actually rather difficult. Here are some things I do remember:
I remember my doctor’s name was Dr. Freeman. Other than that, I don’t remember what he looks like. Every time I try to picture him I get the image of Colonel Sanders from Kentucky Fried Chicken. Maybe that is what he looked like.
I remember ALF came to visit me in the hospital and it was fuckin’ frightening for a 4 year old. Also I’m pretty sure I still have the pogs he gave me.
I remember playing with a kitchen set. It was yellow, and I loved pretending to cook pretend food.
I remember wearing a weird fanny pack for a while when I was out of the hospital. It made me feel like a robot. Around the same time my parents also threw out all the microwaves and we weren’t allowed to have them until 10 years later.
I remember making friends with a girl name Sarah. She had down syndrome. I wonder where she is now and how she is doing.
What I don’t remember is what it felt like to be sick or how I got there. I don’t remember all the depressing parts of being sick. I have Sick Kids Hospital to thank for that.
Yesterday night I was eating chicken wings. I love chicken wings. While I was eating, Mom was rambling on about something and distracting me. Then I somehow swallowed a chicken bone.
I’m not sure how much bone I ingested, but it felt like at least half of one of the wing tip bones. The situation was probably not that big of a deal. However, during my ordeal Dad told me a frightening story.
He once had a friend who was very intelligent but swallowed a small rib bone. He proceeded to flush it down with rice and water. He thought nothing of it except for small pain he would have once in a while. Few days later he was dead. The bone had pierced his esophagus and arteries which lead to some complicated internal bleeding.
I started to over-think. I took to Google to self-diagnose myself and of course on the internet you can find the worst results of any case. Through this anxious over-thinking, I started to feel my own throat hurt and felt it every time I thought about swallowing a chicken bone.
However, I concluded that the condition is psychological. After some researching (in my old psychology books, not Wikipedia), I found out that this is called globus hystericus otherwise known as globus sensation, the feeling of having a lump in the throat. It can be caused by actual inflammation, but often by anxiety. Strangely after writing this post, the feeling is completely gone, so I guess I’m not going to die of chicken both death. Thanks blog.
I blame curiosity on this post. Like most people, when I came across Aging Booth in the App Store, I was well curious. What would I look like as an old lady? Well the answer is this..
The one asian stereotype that I hope I do fall under is that I will look 20 forever and the above photo does not happen.
I love food and it’s a big part of my social life. I literally have made friends at school because we shared meals together or conversed with them about foods. I love burgers, bacon, poutine, cupcakes, anything healthy/unhealthy that is delicious.
Continue reading ➞ Eat Happy