Trading One Job for Another

What I would give to be one of those career-committed folk who have worked in a profession for over 25 or 30 years. I had somewhat of a long-term job as a personal trainer for 20 years back in the day, flowing in and out of various roles within the fitness industry. It never felt like a career but it was about the most fun I ever had. I found my niche in coaching clients on eating right, performance training with vigor based on their sport or lifestyle, and balancing home life with recovery and stretching. It probably ranks as one of the most satisfying 'jobs' I had from my mid-30s into my early 50s.

Then I burned out. I remember having crying fits on the track with my first husband on how I couldn't physically sustain waking up at the crack of dawn, grabbing a quick bagel and sip of coffee, and showing up with an enthusiastic smile for over 10 clients per day, 6 days per week. But I did it and I loved it for as long as I can remember, even though my body and mental state were burned to the core. Once I retired from that job, a three-month sabbatical in Kauai solved my drama like a beautiful puzzle with pieces that fit together to a tee.

And I discovered the art of writing.

I had always written lengthy letters, articles on different topics for gyms and fitness centers, and workout plans with special attention to each client who became their book with professional binding. However, the mere craft of writing as a 'job' had genuine allure. I sat at my computer every evening in my airy room in Kauai and created the beginnings of my first novel titled "Ripple Effects." I chose the title and cover art based on how my life was a series of one launching pad into another, from ocean to wide open skies, a veritable adventure that never seemed to stop. I wrote and wrote and wrote for hours in my tiny Kauai room.

I met so many wonderful souls in Kauai, it was as if I was meant to be there during that time, find a part-time gig as a checker at the island's health food store called Harvest Market, run on the beach every morning, take the bus or hitchhike to my various destinations of choice, spend quality time practicing yoga, finding bananas on the ground and eating them right there, walking everywhere, crying and breathing deeply that the island had accepted me and taken me in, and write write write before bedtime. I must have churned out 10 typed pages each night. It was pure heaven.

That became my job--writing/authoring books and self-publishing. I dubbed my world as an independent author and soon met other like-minded writers and authors who also spent countless hours, days, weeks, months, and years toiling away to create words that meant something. Storytellers. The idea of making money as a writer never crossed my mind until years after publishing my second book called "A Big Piece of Driftwood."

I started by submitting blogs to small journals and independent presses. I built a profile on marketing platforms and secured one client after another. Of course, I had to prove my worth. I was never comfortable setting a price for my services (including my years as a personal trainer), but to afford my simple life, I had to place a monetary tag on what I created as an artist. I was struck with the writing bug and it never let go nor did I ever abandon the craft. Still to this day, I pick up writing contracts here and there, submit pieces to different work platforms, and accept invitations to help old and new clients needing a fresh perspective on storytelling or copywriting. I was hired recently to ghostwrite a series of children's sports books for a fashion guru out of Israel. Magic and fun, I tell you what. Not to mention lucrative, thank you, God.

Yet today, I have officially traded the 4-6 hour writing job for another, more involved passion project. Wizard, our beloved Border Terrier. It wasn't planned, it wasn't something I would have expected, and it wasn't something I would get paid for. Instead, being Wizard's provider, wellness mama, childlike-hearted adventure partner, and overall keeper of his health, my job is secure for life. Some might think my new 'job' is no different than my previous livelihood with Scout, the last beautiful fur babe soul I shared my home and heart with for almost 10 years.

Once Scout passed away so suddenly in March of 2023, I vowed to step up my game with every inch of wellness care for our new pawed wonder. Granted, I was EVERYTHING to Scout and he was EVERYTHING to me. He was silly, joyful, unabashedly curious, confident, easy to be around, and fun beyond belief. Now, Wizard is all that and maybe more. Being such a youngster, he hasn't yet matured into his full expression of doghood due to one slight glitch in his health, a hiccup we never saw coming and never thought would happen to him and our lives as a mid-60s aging couple.

Around the middle part of April, I was sitting outside on a gorgeous sunny day admiring my garden. Wizard slowly sauntered out the kitchen doggie door to join me. But something was off. Something in the way he turned his head to the side as he stood there staring at me. His eyes glossed over. He looked confused and disoriented. Drool began to emerge from his mouth as if poisoned by a toxic plant or some other food item left on the streets or in the bushes for dogs to sniff and eventually eat. Then his mouth began to twitch as if he was biting at flies or chewing gum. I watched it all like one frightened mama.

What was happening? The episode was over in a matter of 20 seconds. Wizard then ran to me, tail wagging happily, sidling up to me and acting as if all was good and he was good. I called our local vet and made an appointment for a thorough checkup. My new job at that juncture was beginning.

After blood tests, x-rays, an MRI by a vet neurologist in Ventura, CA, liver tests, and fecal tests, it was determined that Wizard has idiopathic epilepsy, a lifelong condition of unknown origin. We took many trips to the vet and much money has been spent, with his sweet and soft fur shaved a few different times to collect blood samples and monitor his heart rate. Wizard's test results showed he has a badass tumor-free brain, the healthiest liver, and an awesome heart, and the only thing left to account for his seizures was idiopathic epilepsy.

I went into swift action. Researching every possible angle on how to mitigate his seizures, how to protect his 15 lb. body throughout, and how to understand more by remaining calm and not freaking out. Witnessing your fur baby during an episode is like nothing I've ever seen. The seizures would happen after he was resting for a long while, not during any action or running or play. Greg took a video of his first seizure so the vet would be able to pinpoint his condition, alongside a journal I kept of his triggered episodes. The details I wrote down on the specific days they occurred gave me a new sense of awareness.

I'm not a micromanaging pup mama, or even a helicopter mama (as it's been called), but I am mindful and highly attuned to when Wizard is about to seize. The violent twitching only happens when his head gets weird, thus nothing with the rest of his body. But it is jarring and it is tough to watch. As it's happening, I make certain I stroke his fur, remain calm and peaceful, and allow him to return to his puppy state after about 15 to 20 seconds. It's now my job to ensure Wizard has all the necessary protocols to manage his epilepsy and reduce the damage that pharmaceuticals can do to his liver.

We know that the many pills he takes on a schedule, coupled with keeping his blood sugar at optimal levels and his environmental stress low are the elixir. We performed a food intolerance test to have him on a perfect diet that adheres to his lifestyle and condition and keeps inflammation at bay. He had somewhat of a sensitive stomach from the onset, so his eating the purest and freshest foods with no preservatives or fillers was my mission.

I have to put my needs aside to take care of him first. He's not a sick dog at all. Wizard is merely a wonderful pup who happens to have a lifelong condition that requires special attention and special care. That's my job and I LOVE IT.

I had also contacted a holistic practitioner who came to our house and gave Wizard an acupuncture treatment and new herbal supplements to protect his liver and minimize any potential seizures. Coupled with the regular pharmaceuticals prescribed by our primary vet, the holistic path is the way for us. This vet guy (originally from Sedona, AZ) has an incredibly compassionate bedside manner, and we refer to him along with our regular local vet for any health updates. It's working like a charm. Thank the stars.

As much as this wasn't the easiest part of our lives to divulge, it's also the most freeing and cathartic. Holding in what our little magical Wizard has experienced for the past few months has gripped my soul. Running into neighbors who comment how chill Wizard is for a 13-month-old puppy has not known what Greg and I have been through to ensure Wizard's well-being is always first. It's a new moon and the 8/8/8 (the year 2024 added up) Lion's Gate portal, too, so as attuned as I try to be with the planetary actions, letting you catch a glimpse of our internal lives when it comes to my preoccupation with Wizard and his young self's health, I have also been respectful about our home base and how to let others in.

I'm long-winded here, but I have a job that is probably the most satisfying I've ever known. Wizard's daily health is my job. Wizard and his care is my job. Giving Wizard the best life from here on out is my job. Sure, I'll continue to write for others and myself as it arises, but my 100% focus is our Border Terrier pup and the interwovenness of our barefoot and pawed family.

I guess you could say I have the best job in the world right now.

Much love from us to you... Gerry Ellen and Wizard xoxo