Yeah, they call me Grace

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Uh oh. I think I’ve really done a number now. Yeah, I went almost all winter without a problem. In fact, I think the last time I saw a doctor was my check-up after George was born. But I’m guessing I’ll be heading in soon.

I can’t lift my left arm. As in, it hurts to put on my jacket. Lifting George is almost impossible. Typing is OK, but only because I use my fingers, and don’t move my arm.

You see, it’s winter here in North Dakota. And with winter comes snow…and ice. With ice comes quick trips to meet the ground. But the problem was that I didn’t let myself fall gracefully. Nope, I had to go “Val” it up and make it painful. I somehow jammed my shoulder. The silver lining? It’s my left arm, not my right. (You see? There’s a silver lining in EVERY situation, you just have to look a little harder sometimes.)

I’m guessing I have some tears in there. I’m guessing it’ll be a bit before it feels better. And I’m guessing that this is going to be a long spring.

Maybe, if I’m lucky enough, I’ll fall again and knock it back to normal? Hey, a gal can dream, can’t she?

It’s time to go out again and check cows. My wishes are that 1) #70 hasn’t calved and I can actually get her to the barn this time, 2) if I DO fall, that I don’t break anything, and 3) it’s 70 degrees outside. (Hey, as long as I’m wishing here, I might as well throw in one big one, just to make the others seem more plausible.)

Good night! And if I don’t wave to you tomorrow, it’s not because I don’t want to, it’s because I can’t! 😉

The doctor is in

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It has been a little over a month since we were finally clued in to what was going on with George. It’s been a few weeks of trying to find our groove, feeling our way along and doing lots, and lots, and lots of research.

What I found hasn’t been all that encouraging, but if you are prepared for the worst, than anything above that is excellent…right? And either way, having some idea as to what is going on is WAY better than fighting some unknown. Trust me on that one.

I have spent countless hours on the phone, trying to figure out the logistics of George’s “medical food” (which has been an absolute nightmare), arranging for our emergency care plan (hopefully it will get old and dusty and never need to be used!),  and educating quite a few medical personnel on a rare condition called ornithine transcarbamylase deficiency. (If I had a nickel for every time I was asked to spell that this week…)

But, with the bad comes the good. George has had a GREAT week…and we’ve added another word to his vocabulary!  He now says, “More,” while signing it. It’s GREAT!

Because I’ve been asked a lot about it, I’m going to give you a quick run-down on OTC. Here are the facts:

  • OTC is a rare metabolic disorder, usually genetically inherited through the mother
  • OTC affects the body’s ability to get rid of ammonia, which is a by-product of breaking down protein. Since the body can’t get rid of the ammonia, the levels increase in the blood, causing the most damage to the brain.
  • High-stress episodes can cause the ammonia level to spike, things that we need to watch for, and seek immediate treatment for, are: fever of 101 or higher, vomitting, lethargy, hyperactivity, etc.
  • Treatment includes immediate IV fluids during episodes to lower the ammonia levels, low-protein diet, and sometimes medications. (The low-protein diet will be life-long. Although, as he grows, we should be able to add in more protein. Right now we are at only 9-10 grams of protein per day. The “medical food” provides the rest of the essential amino acids that are needed to grow and sustain life.)
  • The only “cure” is a liver transplant, which is a drastic step, to say the least.

If we follow the diet, make sure George takes his supplement, and are very diligent during times of illness, George should have a very normal life, sans meat. So that’s what we’ll do. (You can read more here.)

I will admit, though, that this week has not been easy for me. I’ve been in a bit of a dark place these last few days. The weather, lack of sleep, lack of interaction with others, fear, anxiety, anger…you name it, it’s hit me. But I promise this week will be better.

It’s up to me to make it so.

Looking to the future

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Maybe I should actually title this post, “Looking FOR the future.” What do I mean? Well, once again, I was reading in a farm publication. (I think I need to quit doing that.) It was a very, very, very small brief. It was buried back in the regional news section on page 36 of AgWeek. And it stated that North Dakota is down 100 farms last year from the year before. (Statistics from the USDA’s Agricultural Statistics Service.)

Now, 100 farms doesn’t seem like a whole lot, but since agriculture IS North Dakota’s No. 1 industry, it should mean something to someone…and it should mean a lot more than a three-sentence blip in the back of a publication.

Again, I get that statistics get skewed in the whole picture. Some of the farms could have been non-existent for years, but were missed in the whole red-tape, paper-shuffle mess that we call government. But 100 farms is 100 farms. (To be fair, percentage-wise, that’s less than 1/2 of 1%.)

If you aren’t aware of the problem facing our world, we are gaining more and more people, and losing more and more farms and farmers. Any good statistician will tell you that those statistics don’t factor well for the future.

Perhaps the story of farm numbers dwindling should rank a little higher than page 36.

Only if you like to eat.

We have a ways to go

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Well, once again my blog stats have amazed me. Today one of the search terms that directed someone to my blog was, “Where does ground beef come from?”

Really?

Well, this is where they were led, but I’m hoping they followed a long a bit and maybe learned a thing or two about raising beef. Although, I’m OK with them knowing where I stand on Taco Bell as well! 😉

To me, this just goes to prove that we have a long ways to go yet, before we can consider our jobs successful. Yes, social media is reaching the consumer, and yes, we are finally opening up the communication between the plate and the pasture, but we can improve.

And I can’t wait!

Oh, and to answer the question…this is where ground beef comes from:

The source of some of the world's best ground beef!

Post of destruction

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I’m not sure that words are necessary…so just watch the slide show.

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I didn’t take the picture of the Game and Fish official who stopped and had picked up a pick-up load of the carcasses. (He did give me permission to take a photo.) These were just the ones left behind, or the ones not picked up yet. It makes me sad, frustrated and wondering.

To quote the Game and Fish website, the department’s mission statement is:

“The mission of the North Dakota Game and Fish Department is to protect, conserve and enhance fish and wildlife populations and their habitat for sustained public consumptive and appreciative use.”

Well, they’re failing.

Come along on a calf check!

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So, I thought maybe today you would like to go on a little walk with me, and check out some cows, to see if any calved.

Here we go!

Unfortunately, it was a pretty uneventful check, but my next round out was a little more eventful…


I’ll take some pics of the new calf tomorrow, and post an update.

A new twist

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So, I’ve written quite a bit about our deer problems. But now they’ve taken a whole different turn. Now the deer are dying.

I don’t mean that one or two has met its maker in a peaceful ceremony performed by the deer-healer. No, we’re talking more than a dozen of them, all lying in our feed. I actually believe that there are at least two dozen carcasses, but I’m not interested in actually going out and counting. Here, see for yourself.

So, yeah, it’s a problem. And here’s the kicker…why are they dying? There’s plenty of feed (although, truth be told, deer aren’t meant to eat dairy-quality alfalfa, so that could be part of the problem), they’ve made nice little burrows in our haystacks, which should be providing excellent cover. Do they have diseases? Are they sick?

Next comes, what will happen to our feed? Is our herd at risk?

The master-minds at Game and Fish are supposed to be here in the morning. One of our neighbors called them this evening. It seems that one of the deer decided to die next to his house. Even kicked the house as it was taking its last breaths. I’m very sorry that the deer caused such a commotion, but I’m grateful that our neighbor called Game and Fish to complain. Perhaps if we’re not the only ones calling, they’ll start paying more attention.

Well, I better head to bed. There’ll be a long night of checking cows, since it’s so cold tonight. Plus today was a very stressful, crazy day. I’ll tell you more about it later.

If I remember.

Blame game

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I’ve been trying to catch up on some reading, which isn’t an easy task with little ones suffering from cabin fever. But an article that ran on the front page of last week’s AgWeek really got me to thinking.

You see, I’ve been repeatedly told on numerous websites, blogs, article comments, etc., that part of the blame for our country becoming increasingly obese is the amount of meat that is consumed…namely, beef.

Yet, according to the cover article (and facts, stats from the USDA), beef consumption in the U.S. is down by almost 20 pounds per person since 1985. That’s right, our country may be becoming more obese, but the amount of beef consumed can’t possibly be the cause.

This is how our beef gets from pasture to plate.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not shocked by this information. I never bought into the argument that consuming beef is the issue with an ever-growing America. But it was interesting to actually see the numbers, right there, in black and white.

So, the next time someone tries to tell me that my family’s herd is part of the problem, not a solution, I’ll just kindly remind them of all the great-tasting, quickly-prepared cuts of lean meats available, and merrily go about my way.

You just can’t argue with ignorance.

On the calving front

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We have about 40 cows that have calved now, with about 135 or so to go. Since we calve in February and March, in the great warm state of North Dakota, I thought I should explain how all this works.

You see, the state of North Dakota tends to get kinda cold in the winter. And since we prefer our calves to be the living, breathing kind, we try to make sure that each calf is born in the barn. Since that is almost impossible, we at least try to get the calf into the barn as quickly as possible, so that frostbite damage is minimal.

How do we do this?

Boss Man and I take turns checking the cows, constantly. As in every 2 hours. Unless it’s really cold or storming, then we check more often. Yep, that’s right, every 2 hours max. This means that every 2 hours someone is bundling up, heading outside and checking each and every cow behind the house. Right now there’s about 80 that we’re watching. (Cows cycle, just like humans, so we use ultrasound technology to date the development of the calf in the fall, which gives us a pretty good idea as to when they may be born in the spring.)

I’ve been pretty lucky so far, I haven’t had to chase any cows in during my checks, just call Mark a time or two when a calf was born outside. Until tonight. As we speak, a heifer is in the barn, ready to have her calf any minute. I will check on her in a few minutes, and if she hasn’t had her calf, then I will need to wake up my husband and have him use his expertise to help her. Hopefully I will go down to the barn, be greeted with a fresh pair of eyes and all will be well, and my hubby will be able to enjoy another few minutes of sleep.

And then I’ll be able to catch a few winks myself…at least that’s the plan.

The storm within

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After a week or so of really great weather, Mother Nature decided to remind us once again that she is definitely in charge. I’m sitting at my computer at 11 p.m., already knowing that school has been delayed by two hours tomorrow morning.

What does the bad weather mean to someone calving? Well, it means no sleep.

Since we are in a full-scale blizzard, Mark and I are checking the cows every hour. So, I’ve been taking the first few hours of checks. And, to tell you the truth, I’m exhausted. Going out and checking cows is tiring. Doing so every two hours is tiring. Doing it every hour…well, you can about imagine.

The worst part isn’t going out and checking. The worst part is knowing that you’re nice and toasty warm inside. Then bundling up in multiple layers, getting nice and warm and sweaty while doing so. Then, once everything is on (my attire: two pairs of pants, double socks, two sweatshirts, heavy jacket, gloves, hat, hood, scarf, Muck boots), grabbing the spotlight and heading out behind the house.

Our lot that we have the cows that are calving in is behind the house, at the bottom of the hill, which is great when going out. Unless it’s icy. Then, after walking through snow (sometimes knee-deep or more) and checking out 80-some cow-butts (Boss Man says that a cow just “looks off,” but I need to see physical proof that something is going on, like a balloon-looking bag of blood and water hanging out her rear, or toes sticking out, or a calf laying on the ground next to her!), I tredge back up the hill to the house.

It’s while out there, in -10 or colder weather, with the snowing freezing my eyelashes to my scarf, checking out some beautiful bovine behinds, that my mind starts to wander. And I’ve been hit lately with a storm inside me, which is part of the reason why my blog has been quiet.

With George’s potential diagnosis, and all that it entails, I’ve been contemplating the future…and fighting the battles within. I know that worrying doesn’t help any, but guess what, I’m a mom…how can I not? And I think it would be pretty ignorant of me to not be prepared for things to be rough at times. I know they will be.

I know that we’ll have hospitalizations. I know that I’ll have to deal with physicians that don’t have a clue as to what I’m talking about, and may not even take me seriously. I know that I’ll even have family that won’t understand what I’m going through, or where I’m coming from.

And then there will be the school system. The insurance company. The state. The pharmacies.

But for tonight, there’s a storm brewing outside…and that out-trumps the one in.