Deuce of Gears
A cog in the machine. Pawn of powers beyond your control.
(Yes, Jedao was being snarkastic when he chose it for his emblem.)
Also, I love my catten but...she's not very bright? She likes to sit on the ping pong table and will remain sprawled on it when the Dragon and I start up a game. The ball hits her in the leg, she remains sprawled. It took the next ball hitting her in the snout for her to skitter-kitter off the table. *facepalm*
That's not the part where she's not very bright. The part where she's not very bright is that she was on the ping pong table during a game yesterday and got hit in the snout by a ball then, causing her to skitter-kitter off the table. You would think she'd figure out that ping pong game in progress = don't sprawl on the table waiting to be hit in the snout?
Back to work...
Afterwards they trotted out cupcakes and candles and sang "Happy Birthday", for this is the conceit, that all our group of patients has just been reborn. Karen-people, we are adding October 21st to her commonplace birthday of March 21st: it's not quite a half-birthday, but close enough and readily remembered.
Now we're back in the apartment, and Karen is resting in her room, sipping a ginger ale and nibbling a Ritz cracker or two. Me, I am drinking wine. We may be establishing a pattern here.
Still'n'all, we can hope that was the worst of it. Eleven o'clock this morning, she'll be transfused with a billion stem cells of her own making, and they will leap into action to restore her murdered immune system. This will be a process of months - boosted along the way by a repeat of all her childhood vaccinations, which weirdly delights me - but little by little, we can rebuild her. We have the technology. Etc.
Meanwhile, the tradition of Thursday dinners continues at our house in our absence, which delights me. Also I suspect the boys of being pampered rotten, which kinda delights me also. We have already seen photos of their new fluffy snuggly beds.
It's funny--I adore this show but declined to request it for Yuletide. Besides it being a highly jossable canon, what I really want is bona fide philosophy neepery, and I'm pretty sure 99% of the fandom wants to write about relationships. There's plenty of shipfic I would read for this fandom, but I really really want philosophy neepery. And, I mean, 2.5 was basically my Platonic ideal in terms of episode content.
We lead a temperate life, those of us who go down to Mexico in search of healing. Karen had her last round of chemo today (yay!) and we've just been quietly in the apartment since. She went to bed not long after nine o'clock; now it's barely an hour later and I am prone to follow. Not all the way, for we are obliged to occupy separate beds for the next couple of weeks, until she has at least the semblance of a normal immune system again; even my poor teddy bear has been exiled from her company, despite his sterling work in keeping her safe from demons of the night.
Karen ate most of a bowl of soup for dinner, but I'm not sure how much she's actually kept down. Tomorrow she gets all her billion stem cells back again, which is Day Zero and the start of her whole new life (hereinafter she gets to celebrate two birthdays a year, and who could deny her that?), but mostly she's just going to be feeling dreadful and not at all like partying.
Indeed, there's not going to be any partying for a while. She'll be in neutropenia, where she hasn't enough white blood cells to fight off infection; she stays in the apartment and eats astronaut food, wears a mask, doesn't get to kiss me. People say that Netflix is her friend, but tonight she was too tired to watch TV, and the fatigue is likely to get worse rather than the other thing. I have no idea; we'll find out. And my own prospects likewise: I don't know how I'll get through these next weeks, for it all depends on her. But at least the worst of the treatment days are behind us. I'm seeking comfort in that. And going to bed as soon as I finish this bottle. My doctor was rather shocked to be told that I drank half a bottle of wine a day; let nobody tell her that these days it's a bottle and a half at least. At least. It's easier to be accurate, when Karen's not drinking at all; but it's harder to be abstemious, when there really isn't that much else to do. Wine helps, y'know? Of course you know. Who do I imagine I'm talking to?
I have a friend coming from out-of-town – from one of those more landlocked places – who would like to go out for seafood. I'm abashed to admit, my answer to the question of where I go for seafood around here is "New Hampshire", which is not compatable with our plans. I am nursing a grudge against Legal, and just about all the places I used to go are out of business.
They're a foodie, will be staying in Somerville, and will be getting around on the T.
Where should we go?
Still at Discovery Cove, this was my first time interacting with a dolphin (well, porpoise). As I mentioned yesterday, I am generally in favor of zoos. I know they are not perfect and the non-accredited zoos are often quite awful. One of the places where my personal ethics make me a bit uncomfortable is when “intelligent” species are kept in zoos. As we have been trying to define “intelligent” for generations and seem to be unable to do, I am going to clarify by saying that I am referring to species of a significantly higher than average level of neural complexity that appear to live rich social lives and require constant interaction with their environment to be psychologically healthy. It’s not a great definition, but it does draw a line between octopuses which seem like good problem solvers and dolphins which seem genuinely intelligent. That said, I must admit to a likely human-centric view here.
Anyway, I get a bit uncomfortable when I see great apes and cetaceans in zoos. I tell myself that they wouldn’t necessarily be better off in the wild – great ape habitat is almost entirely gone, and the shallow oceans are far from healthy places to live. Physically, the dolphins are a lot better off in captivity. As for their mental well being, I always had a problem seeing dolphins in huge sterile tanks.
This is where I think that Discovery Cove has made great strides. Yes, the dolphins are taught to perform a routine and interact with guests. This can elicit memories (for those of us old enough to remember) of dancing bears at the circus. However, in talking with the trainers, I was impressed at how much effort was put into first, making the experience safe for the animals and second, designing the entire program around consent.
Discovery Cove has at least one pod of dolphins that live in a bay-like environment. It’s clean, but not sterile in the way that an aquarium is. The dolphins are trained to volunteer to come and play with the humans. They’re allowed to have their preferred trainers and if they don’t want to “work” that day, they don’t. Sure, they’re rewarded for performing with fish and fish-flavored jello, but that’s not all that different from humans being rewarded with money and occasional pizza parties.
While I, personally, did not enjoy the sameness and controlled experience that Discovery Cove offered – mostly because I’ve had experiences much closer to the wild – for the first time, I did not feel sorry for the dolphins. I think this is a big step in the right direction. I am also pleased to note that SeaWorld is reworking their older parks to build this newer understanding of cetacean psychology into the life experiences of all of their animals.
(And before you mention that movie, know that it was as misleading as the anti-Planned Parenthood “baby parts” video. People can edit footage to tell whatever story they want. SeaWorld isn’t perfect, but they’re not monsters either.)
Originally posted at stories.starmind.org.