Since my blog is titled "Struggles", Iwill describe my struggle du jour...clipping my cats claws. Vash is my baby, my companion, and today, my nemisis. His claws have grown so long and sharp, snuggling has become painful, playfull antics out of the question, and leaves the carpet and bed comfortor covered in snags.

I admire Vashes ability to instintively know when "toe clipping" time has arrived. He only barely tolerates me picking him up, but when its toe clipping time, he is always out of reach.

So it's time for me to become smarter than him (fat chance). My past tactics that have worked include:

1. faking a nap to lure him close to cuddle so I can snatch him up and clip away.

2. grabbing him when he visits me while I'm using the tolliet.

3. luring him close with treats.

But he learns quickly....

#1 worked for a while, but now he has figured out, that if I lay on my beg while it's still daylight, somethings up, go hide.

#2 worked, but to clip his claws with my pants down and thighs exposed, wasn't pleasant.

#3 never worked very well, he learned to take the treat and run.

I've even tried reason...lecturing him on the vertues of well groomed claws, telling him he is making a moutain out of a mole hill, that his toes will feel so much better. He listens, then in his cat way, immediately and unpassionately, dismisses me.

I love cats, their indifference to everything but their pleasure is inspiring. Humans can learn so much about living well if they just look to cats for wisdom. They do nothing unless it makes them feel good. If it doesn't feel good...take a nap.

They are masters at entertaining themselves, any every day object left within reach becomes prey. At night Vash zooms back and forth through the hall upstairs, as if chasing a herd of gazelle. He brings his toys to bed so I can throw them across the room for him to chase and bring back to me for more. He perches on the stairs to swipe at my head as I walk by.

He takes care of me. He tells me when he thinks its time for me to turn off the TV and go to bed by coming downstairs and staring at me from his perch on the couch. He gives me ticklely, gentle kisses on my eylids (not ruff cat licks reserved only for bathing).

Most of all, he listens to me without judgement. Not that he doesn't vocalize his opinion, after all, he's a Siamese.

I have to come up with a new strategy to the toe clipping situation, I have to be sneeky, I have to use drugs... cloud his senses in euphoria; get Vash stoned on catnip!

The bait is set. Catnip embedded in his toy, sprinkled on his scratching post, an aluring trap.

Here he comes, cautiously sniffing. I ignor him. The sratching and rolling begin. He starts rubbing his face in the drug impregnated toy. I reach for him, he bolts. The effects haven't taken hold, I ignor him again. He goes back to rolling with his toy giving him another dose. My cooing at him relaxes him, I reach down to stoke his head, progress, he stretches up to meet my tickling fingers. I go for the grab....got him! Let the manicure begin!

Vash doesn't like to be held so he struggles, and is immediately rendered powerless by my secret weapon, the pinching of the scruff of his neck. Now gone limp, I can position him on my lap, and in short bursts, clip each needle sharp nail. Between clips, I must pinch his neck to keep him from struggling free. If I only can figure out how to pinch his neck while holding his foot and clipping at the same time, but somehow the job gets done.

I gloat, I fooled you this time Vashy! Now doesn't that feel better? He stares at me with distain, flips his tail and goes upstairs.... for a nap.

Blogging: Is it the technological wave of the future to give people the reassuring sense of connectedness with the world, an avenue to say, "Hey, I'm here"? Or is it really a way to disconnect, to only reveal yourself in an unsubstantial way, to share what is only perceived as acceptable?

During my over half century life, I've never felt very connected, usually ignored or dismissed. But only rarely do I feel the need to connect. Maybe it's easier that way, maybe it keeps rejection at bay, Maybe its simply just what I've gotten used to.

I don't revel in isolation, more times than not, it's just a quiet place. A place to recharge, to recoup.

My life basically revolves around my work. An ever challenging, usually stressful, profession that has seemed to fulfill my need to say, "hey, I'm here. I'm a Blood Bank Specialist, that is my identity. Most people wouldn't even know what it is I do, most would think I simply draw blood, Vampire! They would also be very unaware of the education behind my profession. It's not a very high profile profession, even those in the medical community have only a slight clue.

A nurse once told me she knew what I did, I hand out blood so that she could give a life saving transfusion. I asked her, how do you know this blood is safe? How do you know what I "hand out" won't kill your patient? Her reply, "Because the blood is tested for HIV...." You're right, I said, it is tested for HIV, and HepatitisB &C, HTLV, syphilus, and West Nile virus. Diseases that statiscally could be transmitted via a blood transfusion, 1 out of 50,000 -1,000,000 times, depending on the disease. The most important test I perform is the blood type and a screen for red blood cell antibodies. That determines what type of blood may be transfused without harm. "Oh, I know all about blood types, she said, type A, B, O, and AB. AB is most rare and so its the most difficalt to find blood for." Yes, AB is most most rare, but the easiest to find compatible blood for transfusion. (If you are a fan of medical show TV, they are always wrong when it comes to blood transfusion!) I then asked if the nurse knew there are actually over 300 blood "types", we just really worry routinely about ABORh. I really lost her at that point and said, don't worry, I've only been schooled 8 years in the basics, and studied just 6 years in this speciality, you don't really have to know, I got your back and will make sure your chances of killing someone with a tranfusion are minimized. Obstenant of me, wasn't it....?

So, what will the theme of my blogSpot be? Enlightening the ignorant on the vertues and complicated science behind transfusion medicine? Maybe.