So it has been a rough week again, or should I say year already....got over the strep thang, but still have water in the ear that makes me want to vomit if I turn too quickly to the right or the left. Ups and downs are scary, but then I tore or partially tore my meniscus. Totally acceptable for a middle age women as myself, since I partially tore my right one a year and a half ago...but shit...really...give me a break would you. And then the break happened....a shitty death filled week at BEVS, and to top it off a suicide at the school Sydney and Berkeley will attend.

First of all we all have dealt with death...I happen to deal with it more then the normal human being as do my co-workers...but to come into work and immediately have to euthanize three animals in a span of 30 minutes, tends to put a damper on the night. Yes, these animals were suffering, and so were their owners, and "we" did the only humane thing possible, but it sucks...really sucks. I had to cling onto something, and that something was a dog. A dog named Max, who not only survived a surgery that pulled an object from his large intestine that was unidentifiable. But a second surgery were he was leaking poisonous fluid from his incision into his abdominal cavity, causing severe infection and blood loss. Max was stoic, god like if you will, his little stub tail that had at one time been surgically amputated wagged even as we put yet another needle into his already painful and swollen belly. It was amazing and wonderful and every technician who dealt with him pulled for his recovery. His folks had just had some trouble themselves in life, and yet their stoic behavior to do all they could do for their "child" was astonishing. I dreamed about Max, and had to call in the morning to make sure he was alive...a dog I have never known until last week, and I was committed. As of late he is still doing well, a surgeon whom invested his work into a client he'd never met, donated his time, and his tech's time to a dog he believed in...it was a shining moment, in a week of cloudiness.

After leaving Max at midnight in the hands of my devoted co-workers, I drove home, satisfied or relieved that he was going to make it, and the news came on. It brought me back to reality and the loss of a human being. So young and vibrant, sporty and friendly. It was hard to face, and I still am in shock. There are a million questions running in my head, a gun : in school: why didn't anyone know? Why ? Sadness and empathy. Anger for the kids who were left in the dark, and had to concentrate on their exams, after the gunshot rang from the school. I didn't know Conner, and I am sure everybody is looking into the reasons why he did what he did. But it was hard to deal with.

At 15, I had no boyfriends, I was a loner, I was a C student and hung out with the popular crowd, the sports crowd, and the geeks...it was my life to fit in. 15 sucked, hormones, being malested by the people I babysat for, trying to deal with being an awkward teenager, do I smoke pot, drink beer, pay attention to my parents, who do I go for, for help...well the answer was my peers. At that age highschool was everything, it made you who you were, if you were not accepted, you didn't succeed. That was your life. I entrusted friends with my deepest secrets, and they told everybody. I relied on friendships that lasted a year. I told mothers and fathers that their child was having a sleep over at my house, when they were out partying at Middlebury College...it was survival, painful and ugly. I hated my early years at high school.

It took awhile and then I realized that I didn't want to be that person who lied to parents, or friends. I didn't care if you were on the smoking side of the school or on the sports teams. If you were pretty, cute or scum...it was a perfect Fuck you moment, and I decided, if you don't like who I am, I don't care. It worked...I made friends I would have looked over, I lived experiences I would not have and I survived what I thought was the worst part of my life ever. I guess this all ties into the will to conquer, or defeat your demons ...etc...I just look at Max and think, wow, that was me a long time ago, all odds against me and I worked it out, and then I look at Conner and wish I had known him, to tell him this is not your life. It is high school. A stressful, most painful accomplishment, that can be about you or about how you fit in to society....and you need to make it about you. My heart goes out to Conners family and friends and I only hope in the next 6 years that my daughter has to grow, that she is strong and full of self esteem. Because these were things her mother was not, and I could have been in Conners place.