Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Sleeping with All His Friends
Look at him. He is sleeping on his favorite blankie, with his paw on
his pork chomp bone, one Kong in front of his face, and another Kong and
Mr. Pickle right behind his head. I think it's so cute when he sleeps
with his toys.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Therapy Dog's First Day
Yesterday was Isaac's first day as a therapy dog at a local nursing home.
Doesn't he look cute?
I didn't want him to wear his service dog vest because that means he's on duty. It means, to him, that he's not supposed to socialize and stuff. But I wanted something to mark him as a special dog. So I went with a purple bandana. I bought him a blue one, too. For several days before his first day as a therapy dog, I let him wear the bandana for short periods of time around the house, to get used to it. I had him perform various tasks and we played with toys and he got lots of treats.
Isaac did great and I think he had a really nice time. He was really calm and just enjoyed meeting all the people.
I was surprised at the number of people that didn't want to pet him. I expected a few wouldn't, for whatever reason, which of course is OK. But there were more than I expected that didn't want to.
Of course, many people did want to pet him. A couple people ended up following us down the hall because after they'd had a turn petting him, they still wanted more time with him.
The activity director took us around to see everyone and she was moving kind of fast. Hopefully in the future, either we will be able to go around ourselves or if she wants to take us around every time, I can get her to slow down a little. I think several of the residents would have really liked to spend more time with Isaac.
It was a really interesting experience. I viewed my job as just taking Isaac around, putting him in the right place, and then allowing him to do his thing. I wasn't doing any type of "therapy" with people. I was like Isaac's chauffeur or something. And Isaac's job, the "therapy" he was doing, was just being himself. It was a really beautiful thing to watch.
Several residents told me something about dogs they used to have. One elderly woman told me that when he late husband proposed to her, she had told him she would only marry him if he would allow her to have a dog after they got married. One man in the Alzheimer's unit seemed to think he recognized Isaac, that Isaac was a dog he'd known before. He looked quite surprised to see him and said, "Why, you've gotten a lot bigger, haven't you?" Another man in the Alzheimer's unit told the activity director, as he was petting Isaac's head, "This is the dog I've been telling you about!"
One woman in the Alzheimer's unit seemed unaware of anything that was going on around her. When I asked her if she wanted to pet the dog, she didn't respond at first. But then she moved her hand toward him, just a little. I gently placed her hand on Isaac's head. After a minute, she began to pet him. Then she said, "He's furry." I said, "Yes, he sure is furry." Several times, she repeated that he was furry. I told her his name and she repeated that. I asked her what her name was and she answered me. Then she said, "Do you think they would let me keep him?" I promised her we would come back again to visit.
One woman was lying back in a recliner. She really wanted to pet Isaac and he rested his head on the arm of the recliner so she could stroke his head. Then I had him put his paws up on the arm of the chair and she said, "Oh!" and seemed surprised that he could do that. Then she leaned over close to him and he gave her a little kiss on the nose. She was delighted. She kept touching her nose and saying, over and over again, "He kissed me! He kissed me right here! Right here, this is where he kissed me." I told her, "That means he really likes you."
Another woman was sitting in a wheelchair. Isaac sat right in front of her and she petted him for a few minutes, then he lay down across her feet. She was delighted. She told him it would be lunchtime soon and that the were having fried chicken and that if he stuck around, she would give him some of her chicken. Several times, she said things like, "He could just stay here with me all day. I'd be happy to keep him. He could stay here with me in my room." She was one of the residents that ended up following us down the hall so she could spend a little more time in his presence.
Another woman was so excited to see him heading across the room toward her that she jumped out of her chair and practically knocked some other chairs over in her hurry to get to him. I told her she could sit down and I would bring him over to her but she couldn't wait. She was just so thrilled to get to see him.
We are going to volunteer every Monday. I can't wait to see what happens next time.
Doesn't he look cute?
Isaac did great and I think he had a really nice time. He was really calm and just enjoyed meeting all the people.
I was surprised at the number of people that didn't want to pet him. I expected a few wouldn't, for whatever reason, which of course is OK. But there were more than I expected that didn't want to.
Of course, many people did want to pet him. A couple people ended up following us down the hall because after they'd had a turn petting him, they still wanted more time with him.
The activity director took us around to see everyone and she was moving kind of fast. Hopefully in the future, either we will be able to go around ourselves or if she wants to take us around every time, I can get her to slow down a little. I think several of the residents would have really liked to spend more time with Isaac.
It was a really interesting experience. I viewed my job as just taking Isaac around, putting him in the right place, and then allowing him to do his thing. I wasn't doing any type of "therapy" with people. I was like Isaac's chauffeur or something. And Isaac's job, the "therapy" he was doing, was just being himself. It was a really beautiful thing to watch.
Several residents told me something about dogs they used to have. One elderly woman told me that when he late husband proposed to her, she had told him she would only marry him if he would allow her to have a dog after they got married. One man in the Alzheimer's unit seemed to think he recognized Isaac, that Isaac was a dog he'd known before. He looked quite surprised to see him and said, "Why, you've gotten a lot bigger, haven't you?" Another man in the Alzheimer's unit told the activity director, as he was petting Isaac's head, "This is the dog I've been telling you about!"
One woman in the Alzheimer's unit seemed unaware of anything that was going on around her. When I asked her if she wanted to pet the dog, she didn't respond at first. But then she moved her hand toward him, just a little. I gently placed her hand on Isaac's head. After a minute, she began to pet him. Then she said, "He's furry." I said, "Yes, he sure is furry." Several times, she repeated that he was furry. I told her his name and she repeated that. I asked her what her name was and she answered me. Then she said, "Do you think they would let me keep him?" I promised her we would come back again to visit.
One woman was lying back in a recliner. She really wanted to pet Isaac and he rested his head on the arm of the recliner so she could stroke his head. Then I had him put his paws up on the arm of the chair and she said, "Oh!" and seemed surprised that he could do that. Then she leaned over close to him and he gave her a little kiss on the nose. She was delighted. She kept touching her nose and saying, over and over again, "He kissed me! He kissed me right here! Right here, this is where he kissed me." I told her, "That means he really likes you."
Another woman was sitting in a wheelchair. Isaac sat right in front of her and she petted him for a few minutes, then he lay down across her feet. She was delighted. She told him it would be lunchtime soon and that the were having fried chicken and that if he stuck around, she would give him some of her chicken. Several times, she said things like, "He could just stay here with me all day. I'd be happy to keep him. He could stay here with me in my room." She was one of the residents that ended up following us down the hall so she could spend a little more time in his presence.
Another woman was so excited to see him heading across the room toward her that she jumped out of her chair and practically knocked some other chairs over in her hurry to get to him. I told her she could sit down and I would bring him over to her but she couldn't wait. She was just so thrilled to get to see him.
We are going to volunteer every Monday. I can't wait to see what happens next time.
Monday, June 2, 2014
In the Right Place at the Right Time
Yesterday, on the way home from the park with Isaac, I came upon a car accident. I didn't actually see the accident but it had just happened when I arrived. A banged-up car was in a grassy area beside the country road on which I'd been traveling and two other cars had pulled over to help. I pulled over, too.
I used to be certified in first aid and CPR. It was a requirement of my job, both when I worked with children and when I worked in health care. Every year, I had to take a refresher course and then pass a test which involved performing CPR on a mannequin. My certification lapsed more than 10 years ago, but those annual refresher courses are stuck in my mind, apparently.
I jumped out of my car and hurried over to the people standing on the grass, calling, "I know first aid. Can I help?"
A young woman was standing over a man who was lying supine on the ground. "Yes!" she said, pointing at him. "Help him. He's hurt bad."
For a second, I thought I was going to have to perform CPR or something. Thankfully, that was not the case.
I dropped to my knees beside the man and asked him where he was hurt.
He said his lower back hurt and he looked like he was in pain.
I asked him if he could feel his hands and feet. He said yes. I asked him to stay as still as he could and asked if he could wiggle his fingers and toes. "Just your fingers and toes, just a little bit. Don't move anything else." He could.
He said, "I guess it's good that I'm in so much pain. At least I can feel everything. I guess that's a good sign."
I said, "It's sure a better sign than if you couldn't feel anything." Which I thought was true, plus I thought if he could interpret the pain as a positive thing, like a good sign, that would probably be helpful.
I told him to take some slow deep breaths and to try to picture the muscles in his back relaxing and stretching out. I told him I knew that it was uncomfortable, that the ambulance would be there soon, that pretty soon he'd be at the hospital and get some really good pain medication.
I asked him if he knew where he was, who he was, what day it was. He did. I asked him if he knew what had happened and he said he fell asleep at the wheel. I asked if he had been tired, if he was sure he'd just fallen asleep, hadn't passed out or had a seizure or anything like that. He felt sure he'd just fallen asleep.
I asked him if anything hurt other than his back and he said no. I started assessing him for other injuries. It looked like he'd hit his nose on something. There was a bloody scrape on the end of his nose. I mentioned that to him and asked if it hurt. He said no and seemed unaware that he'd even bumped his nose. He also had a cut on one hand that was bleeding and a really swollen lump on one arm, which was also bruised blue. I felt the lump gently. He said it didn't hurt but I thought it might be broken. I think his back just hurt so much that he wasn't even aware of anything else that might have hurt.
It took a while for the ambulance to arrive. We were in the middle of nowhere. Mostly I focused on keeping him as calm as possible and helping him manage the pain. There were no injuries that needed first aid. There was nothing else to do until the paramedics arrived.
He asked if anyone had some Tylenol. One of the other people that had stopped to help had some. I figured Tylenol wouldn't hurt him. I made sure it was acetaminophen, not ibuprofen, because if you're bleeding or might need surgery, you shouldn't take NSAIDS. I thought it was unlikely Tylenol would help much, as much pain as he was in, but I also figured it wouldn't hurt and that if he thought it might help, then it might help. Even if it was just a placebo effect kind of thing, if he thought it would help, it might help.
The paramedics finally arrived so I told him he was in good hands, wished him luck and left. As I drove away, several things occurred to me.
First, I dropped down to the grass beside him and had no memory of it being difficult to get down on the ground. Nor did I have any memory of it being difficult to get back up again, when the paramedics arrived and I needed to get out of their way.
Second, even though he wasn't really in need of much first aid, he just needed to stay calm and hold still until medical help arrived, I think I was helpful and I felt good about that. Even though he didn't need CPR or anything serious like that, I knew how to do it if he had needed it, and I think it helped him, and probably everyone else there, too, to have someone on the scene that knew first aid. I think it helped him stay calm and feel safe.
And I think I was able to help him stay calm and cope with the pain until the paramedics arrived. And I felt strong and capable and competent. And I don't feel that way very often.
Of course, I'm not glad he had an accident. But I'm glad I was there when it happened. I feel like I was in the right place at the right time, for him and for me.
I used to be certified in first aid and CPR. It was a requirement of my job, both when I worked with children and when I worked in health care. Every year, I had to take a refresher course and then pass a test which involved performing CPR on a mannequin. My certification lapsed more than 10 years ago, but those annual refresher courses are stuck in my mind, apparently.
I jumped out of my car and hurried over to the people standing on the grass, calling, "I know first aid. Can I help?"
A young woman was standing over a man who was lying supine on the ground. "Yes!" she said, pointing at him. "Help him. He's hurt bad."
For a second, I thought I was going to have to perform CPR or something. Thankfully, that was not the case.
I dropped to my knees beside the man and asked him where he was hurt.
He said his lower back hurt and he looked like he was in pain.
I asked him if he could feel his hands and feet. He said yes. I asked him to stay as still as he could and asked if he could wiggle his fingers and toes. "Just your fingers and toes, just a little bit. Don't move anything else." He could.
He said, "I guess it's good that I'm in so much pain. At least I can feel everything. I guess that's a good sign."
I said, "It's sure a better sign than if you couldn't feel anything." Which I thought was true, plus I thought if he could interpret the pain as a positive thing, like a good sign, that would probably be helpful.
I told him to take some slow deep breaths and to try to picture the muscles in his back relaxing and stretching out. I told him I knew that it was uncomfortable, that the ambulance would be there soon, that pretty soon he'd be at the hospital and get some really good pain medication.
I asked him if he knew where he was, who he was, what day it was. He did. I asked him if he knew what had happened and he said he fell asleep at the wheel. I asked if he had been tired, if he was sure he'd just fallen asleep, hadn't passed out or had a seizure or anything like that. He felt sure he'd just fallen asleep.
I asked him if anything hurt other than his back and he said no. I started assessing him for other injuries. It looked like he'd hit his nose on something. There was a bloody scrape on the end of his nose. I mentioned that to him and asked if it hurt. He said no and seemed unaware that he'd even bumped his nose. He also had a cut on one hand that was bleeding and a really swollen lump on one arm, which was also bruised blue. I felt the lump gently. He said it didn't hurt but I thought it might be broken. I think his back just hurt so much that he wasn't even aware of anything else that might have hurt.
It took a while for the ambulance to arrive. We were in the middle of nowhere. Mostly I focused on keeping him as calm as possible and helping him manage the pain. There were no injuries that needed first aid. There was nothing else to do until the paramedics arrived.
He asked if anyone had some Tylenol. One of the other people that had stopped to help had some. I figured Tylenol wouldn't hurt him. I made sure it was acetaminophen, not ibuprofen, because if you're bleeding or might need surgery, you shouldn't take NSAIDS. I thought it was unlikely Tylenol would help much, as much pain as he was in, but I also figured it wouldn't hurt and that if he thought it might help, then it might help. Even if it was just a placebo effect kind of thing, if he thought it would help, it might help.
The paramedics finally arrived so I told him he was in good hands, wished him luck and left. As I drove away, several things occurred to me.
First, I dropped down to the grass beside him and had no memory of it being difficult to get down on the ground. Nor did I have any memory of it being difficult to get back up again, when the paramedics arrived and I needed to get out of their way.
Second, even though he wasn't really in need of much first aid, he just needed to stay calm and hold still until medical help arrived, I think I was helpful and I felt good about that. Even though he didn't need CPR or anything serious like that, I knew how to do it if he had needed it, and I think it helped him, and probably everyone else there, too, to have someone on the scene that knew first aid. I think it helped him stay calm and feel safe.
And I think I was able to help him stay calm and cope with the pain until the paramedics arrived. And I felt strong and capable and competent. And I don't feel that way very often.
Of course, I'm not glad he had an accident. But I'm glad I was there when it happened. I feel like I was in the right place at the right time, for him and for me.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Visit to East Harbor State Park
Today Isaac and I took a little day trip to East Harbor State Park, which is on Lake Erie. It's about an hour and 40 minutes from where we live. I'm sure Isaac would have had just as much fun at the state park that is five minutes from our home but I wanted to go somewhere different.
Not only did I enjoy our 90-minute walk at the park, I enjoyed the drive there. Most of the drive is through farmland. I saw several farmers out in the fields on tractors or other equipment. They must be less Christian up that way than in my part of the state, because around here, you never see farmers out in the fields on Sundays. It was a pleasant drive and Isaac always loves to ride in the car.
I wanted to walk along the lake shore and we did that for a little while but not as much as I would have liked. It's a big park and if we go there again, I think I'll drive around a bit more and try to find a better area where we can do that. The part where we walked along the shore, it was very rocky and you couldn't get quite down to the water. Isaac was certainly willing to try but I was pretty sure I'd end up falling on my ass on steep, slippery rocks, and even if I somehow managed not to fall, I'd probably never get back up to the roadway again. Isaac was a bit disappointed that he didn't get to get in the lake.
A little further along was a beach area, with sand, where people are allowed to swim. Pets are not permitted on the sandy beach, however. I guess Isaac would be allowed if he was working, but he wasn't. And if he was working and had on his service dog vest and everything, then he wouldn't be able to wade in the water along the shore, which is what he would have wanted to do, anyway. But like I said, it's a large park and maybe there is an area further along that we didn't get to where he could wade.
After walking along the lake shore for a little bit, we then walked on this trail through the marshland. It was peaceful and pretty and fairly cool in the shade. We saw a turtle sunning itself on a log and a big white bird - an egret, maybe? Or a heron? - standing in the marsh. There was on spot along that trail where there was a pond and Isaac was able to wade into it just a little, to cool off his feet and get a drink. Apparently he was very thirsty because he gulped up quite a bit of pond water.
We were both hot and tired and thirsty when we got back to the car. We both drank a lot of water.
I didn't carry any water with us on our walk because I wasn't planning to walk far enough to need any. I figure if I don't need to drink, Isaac is OK without drinking, too. Now, if we are at the dog park and he is running around like a maniac and I am just standing still under a shade tree, that's different. I always take water for him when we go to the dog park. But if we are walking along at a leisurely pace, I figure he can go as long as I can without a drink. Plus, he did get a drink in the pond, and I had figured he'd probably get a drink somewhere during our walk, out of the lake or something. But the way he guzzled water when we got back to the car, he probably should have had a drink sooner. I think next time we go on a walk like that, I will carry some water for both of us.
It might seem like a long way to drive to go for a 90-minute walk, but I'm really glad I decided to go. I had a good time and Isaac did, too. Of course, he would have a good time if I just took him out behind the McDonald's down the street from out house to sniff around the dumpster. I would find that less-than-enjoyable myself, though.
I don't really do many fun things these days, though. Because the pain and fatigue of fibromyalgia, I often don't have the energy or I'm in too much pain. And when I do feel OK, I always have so much stuff to do, like all the stuff I can't get done on the days I don't feel well. It seems like there's never any free time to do fun stuff. And then, there is a lack of money for recreational activities.
But state parks are free. All it costs is gas money to get there.
And it was nice. I'm glad I went.
Isaac was disappointed that he didn't get to swim in the lake, but he did get to roll in some goose poop, so he had a good time, too.
Not only did I enjoy our 90-minute walk at the park, I enjoyed the drive there. Most of the drive is through farmland. I saw several farmers out in the fields on tractors or other equipment. They must be less Christian up that way than in my part of the state, because around here, you never see farmers out in the fields on Sundays. It was a pleasant drive and Isaac always loves to ride in the car.
I wanted to walk along the lake shore and we did that for a little while but not as much as I would have liked. It's a big park and if we go there again, I think I'll drive around a bit more and try to find a better area where we can do that. The part where we walked along the shore, it was very rocky and you couldn't get quite down to the water. Isaac was certainly willing to try but I was pretty sure I'd end up falling on my ass on steep, slippery rocks, and even if I somehow managed not to fall, I'd probably never get back up to the roadway again. Isaac was a bit disappointed that he didn't get to get in the lake.
After walking along the lake shore for a little bit, we then walked on this trail through the marshland. It was peaceful and pretty and fairly cool in the shade. We saw a turtle sunning itself on a log and a big white bird - an egret, maybe? Or a heron? - standing in the marsh. There was on spot along that trail where there was a pond and Isaac was able to wade into it just a little, to cool off his feet and get a drink. Apparently he was very thirsty because he gulped up quite a bit of pond water.
We were both hot and tired and thirsty when we got back to the car. We both drank a lot of water.
I didn't carry any water with us on our walk because I wasn't planning to walk far enough to need any. I figure if I don't need to drink, Isaac is OK without drinking, too. Now, if we are at the dog park and he is running around like a maniac and I am just standing still under a shade tree, that's different. I always take water for him when we go to the dog park. But if we are walking along at a leisurely pace, I figure he can go as long as I can without a drink. Plus, he did get a drink in the pond, and I had figured he'd probably get a drink somewhere during our walk, out of the lake or something. But the way he guzzled water when we got back to the car, he probably should have had a drink sooner. I think next time we go on a walk like that, I will carry some water for both of us.
It might seem like a long way to drive to go for a 90-minute walk, but I'm really glad I decided to go. I had a good time and Isaac did, too. Of course, he would have a good time if I just took him out behind the McDonald's down the street from out house to sniff around the dumpster. I would find that less-than-enjoyable myself, though.
I don't really do many fun things these days, though. Because the pain and fatigue of fibromyalgia, I often don't have the energy or I'm in too much pain. And when I do feel OK, I always have so much stuff to do, like all the stuff I can't get done on the days I don't feel well. It seems like there's never any free time to do fun stuff. And then, there is a lack of money for recreational activities.
But state parks are free. All it costs is gas money to get there.
And it was nice. I'm glad I went.
Isaac was disappointed that he didn't get to swim in the lake, but he did get to roll in some goose poop, so he had a good time, too.
Visit to the Rheumatologist
Friday I saw my rheumatologist. This was only my second appointment with her. The first time I saw her, I got a friend to go with me. This time, I took Isaac.
I usually don't take Isaac to medical appointments. When I first got him, we had a couple of not so good experiences at therapy appointments, when Isaac barked a lot and was generally disruptive. I don't know why, really. He was still young and didn't have enough experience doing lengthy down-stays, I think.
Back then, he could generally only handle a half hour under a table in a restaurant, and that was with repeated redirection from me. Now, he easily does an hour-long down-stay in a restaurant and can do longer, though he may need a bit of redirection from me to do longer. And that's probably only because we haven't really practiced longer down-stays.
Anyway. I've taken him to a couple of other appointments besides those ill-fated therapy appointments, including an appointment for a mammogram, but usually I leave him at home when I have medical appointments. I don't want to be distracted or worried about his behavior, or how he's going to behave, when I'm already anxious enough about the appointment. When I can, I generally take a friend to appointments with me. But that's not always possible. Often, I go alone.
But I decided to take him to my rheumatologist appointment Friday. I expected the appointment to be a pretty quick one and Isaac's been doing so incredibly well lately and I thought it would really be nice to have him with me.
He did great. Unless you count the fact that, as he seated himself in the very quiet waiting room, he farted. Really loudly. He looked quite dignified about it, though. And it didn't stink. It was just loud.
Well, when the rheumatologist came into the exam room, she seemed surprised to see Isaac. Which I guess is understandable. She probably does not have many patients with service dogs.
Isaac was in a down-stay beside my chair. The doctor sat at the desk on the other side of my chair. So I was between her and Isaac.
And she proceeded to tell me she is uncomfortable around dogs and asked if I could not bring him to future appointments.
I quickly pointed out that legally, I am allowed to bring him.
She said yes, she understands that, but she's not talking about legally. She said I can bring him if I need to. But she is afraid of dogs and is very uncomfortable with him there and would prefer I not bring him if possible.
I was taken aback. I wasn't sure how to respond.
I understand some people are really afraid of dogs. It may not be logical - Isaac could not have been any less threatening - but fear isn't always logical. Often it's not. I'm afraid of doctors. That's not logical, either, really. But it is what it is.
The rest of the appointment went OK. It was quick. She increased my gabapentin from 100 mg twice a day to 200 mg twice a day. I see her again in four months.
But what about her request that I not bring Isaac?
I'll write about that in another post.
I usually don't take Isaac to medical appointments. When I first got him, we had a couple of not so good experiences at therapy appointments, when Isaac barked a lot and was generally disruptive. I don't know why, really. He was still young and didn't have enough experience doing lengthy down-stays, I think.
Back then, he could generally only handle a half hour under a table in a restaurant, and that was with repeated redirection from me. Now, he easily does an hour-long down-stay in a restaurant and can do longer, though he may need a bit of redirection from me to do longer. And that's probably only because we haven't really practiced longer down-stays.
Anyway. I've taken him to a couple of other appointments besides those ill-fated therapy appointments, including an appointment for a mammogram, but usually I leave him at home when I have medical appointments. I don't want to be distracted or worried about his behavior, or how he's going to behave, when I'm already anxious enough about the appointment. When I can, I generally take a friend to appointments with me. But that's not always possible. Often, I go alone.
But I decided to take him to my rheumatologist appointment Friday. I expected the appointment to be a pretty quick one and Isaac's been doing so incredibly well lately and I thought it would really be nice to have him with me.
He did great. Unless you count the fact that, as he seated himself in the very quiet waiting room, he farted. Really loudly. He looked quite dignified about it, though. And it didn't stink. It was just loud.
Well, when the rheumatologist came into the exam room, she seemed surprised to see Isaac. Which I guess is understandable. She probably does not have many patients with service dogs.
Isaac was in a down-stay beside my chair. The doctor sat at the desk on the other side of my chair. So I was between her and Isaac.
And she proceeded to tell me she is uncomfortable around dogs and asked if I could not bring him to future appointments.
I quickly pointed out that legally, I am allowed to bring him.
She said yes, she understands that, but she's not talking about legally. She said I can bring him if I need to. But she is afraid of dogs and is very uncomfortable with him there and would prefer I not bring him if possible.
I was taken aback. I wasn't sure how to respond.
I understand some people are really afraid of dogs. It may not be logical - Isaac could not have been any less threatening - but fear isn't always logical. Often it's not. I'm afraid of doctors. That's not logical, either, really. But it is what it is.
The rest of the appointment went OK. It was quick. She increased my gabapentin from 100 mg twice a day to 200 mg twice a day. I see her again in four months.
But what about her request that I not bring Isaac?
I'll write about that in another post.
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