Riley update

Riley is feeling MUCH better. I called the vet on Tuesday morning and left several messages until I got to speak with one Riley saw. They are really good, but super busy. He listened to all my concerns and asked questions- I didn't feel rushed at all. He prescribed another couple medications, and I called back on Thursday with a status report. She seems back to her old self and I am very happy. She does not understand why I keep carrying her up and down the stairs, but the vet said one month, so tough. I put out puppy pads and she finally used them starting Friday, and several times since. I'm sure once she's back on her regular schedule and not on pain pills, we'll both be happy to have her do that outside, but I'll keep one out in case.

Looking at her now, I see why the vet wasn't talking about putting her down. She's ok- just old. A friend told me about a scale that exists to measure a dog's quality of life- you rate things like appetite and energy level and so on and put the number on the calendar so you have a measurable way to see trends. She said her vet told her you'd rather be a week too early than a minute too late. That is a scary, scary thought. Sunday through Tuesday were awful days, and several times I thought about calling someone to help me, especially when I had to do something that hurt her. I would have had help in a minute had I asked, but each time, I just closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I'd ask if it was for her or for me, and then I'd let that breath out and proceed. Thanks to the mindfulness class and Kate's reminders, I worked hard to try to stay present and minimize the hurt- to think about my state of mind and what I was projecting to her. And we got through it. Kate said she thought this was good preparation for what is to come, and I do feel a little more confident. I know where my line is, I know what's too much for her, and nobody is going to be able to make that call but me. Now I know that I can, and I have an idea of how hard that will be.

This kind of thing always happens at 2am

Now it's 2:45 am and I'm holding a bowl of chicken and rice at an angle. Riley is happily nosing through the rice for the chicken bits. She's been whining on and off through the night but I woke up at 2 to her panting. Google said call the vet, so I called Reno's godsend, Animal Emergency Center, and asked if Riley could have another pain pill. Nik strongly recommended pill pockets last night, and I am singing her praises. Who knew I would desperately need them 6 hours later. I got Riley up and got the pain pill down, and she limped to the other side of my room, sat down, and smelled the air, so I brought her the other half of the pill pocket. She ate it right up, interested and whuffling at every piece I held out, so I went and grabbed a chicken and rice container, threw it into a bowl and warmed it up. She ate most of the chicken bits with gusto and then stopped a couple times, looking at me with the expression that said the medicine just hit. She quieted down and is now lying with her head on my socks. I thought a headrest might help her get up easier.

I knew this first day or two would be the worst, the absolute worst, and so far it is awful. It was suggested to me that I take Tylenol PM because I would likely be both sore and restless, and I do think that was sound advice. I just didn't feel last night that she was entirely good, and wanted to keep an ear out. It made for a shitty 4 hours, but I'm glad I heard it when the panting started.

I'll call the vet in the morning and see if we can't increase the dosage to keep her comfortable. If this kind of pain continues, and she doesn't improve, of course we can't keep going. I wonder if my Facebook post will prove to be ill timing- if we don't have that long at all. I feel like I can anticipate some people's reactions, like they're already judging and feeling like it's already been over and they know what I should do.

In those moments, I think about mindfulness and noticing what thoughts are occurring. I think about what Kate said about being present in the moment. I am asking myself to stay with what's happening no matter how upsetting or uncomfortable- not thinking about the past or anticipating the future- and to be open to the signs she sends to let me know when she is ok or not. So far, my rule in this is not in pain. If that means rest and meds and a happy dog, ok. If it means the end, I will be ok.

Send good juju

I'm lying on the floor next to my dog rubbing her head. I am having to use the voice command so please forgive the mistakes. I spent 2 hours at the vet today curled around Riley. She was lying on one of my towels wrapped up in it on the table. They assured me right in when I came in with her wrapped in my towel. It took the towel to be able to pick her up because she hurt so bad she was trying to well trying not to bite me. At the vet the vet tech game to check her vital signs and see how much of an emergency it was because the vet was in surgery. I had to lay Riley on the table so the vet tech could check her out and I did not want to move her again so I spent 2 hours petting her and talking to her while we waited. The table is metal and I was glad I wasn't able to find the beach towel and instead grabbed one of the thick extra large bathroom towels because half of it kept her body insulated from the cold table and the other kept out the cold air and dried my tears. When the vet came in and checked her out I told him all about the diarrhea the chicken and rice the vet visit on Saturday the antibiotics and her growl cries all day Sunday. I told him about her back legs giving out and how stiff she was walking how her back was hunched. I told him it was extremely unlike her to lie on the table any table but especially at the vet. He asked to see her walk and told me he thought it was either a bulged disc or perhaps cancer. He kept her for tests and I went back to work. I picked her up this evening and found out it is compressed vertebrae. There are two spots where there should be space. I have no idea what could have caused this recently and he said there's no telling. If I think of all her acrobatics through the years I can easily think of many potential causes but I do not know what could have triggered it and I certainly saw no injuries at the time. Now in addition to antibiotics she is on steroids and pain medicine. He does not think this is the end for her. He says she'll be fine once the swelling goes down. Because of her age she is not a candidate for surgery of course but he says medication in this case usually works quite well. He gave me instructions for the medication and vet she has to have restricted movement for a month. No running no jumping no playing all of which is no problem but also no stairs which means I will be her elevator. He told me they had given her an injection of pain medicine and that it would wear off in 3 to 4 hours. It has worn off. I gave her the other medications hours ago because I did not want her to run out of pain medicine but she hurts. I am to call the vet on Wednesday with an update and I'm glad he told me the medication will wear off because she was lying on the floor whining. Eventually she got up and stiffly paced the apartment wandering back and forth. She settled down in my room in her usual sleeping corner but kept crying softly so here I am an hour past my bedtime emotionally drained and sore and tired but she has quieted down. I will go to bed soon and sleep but I will get up and come lie down next to her again if she asks me to. The next couple days will be hard. I think she got moved around a lot today and it's going to take some time for the medicine to kick in. If the vet had suggested putting her down today I would have done it. He did not though he knew her age and mentioned it often instead told me she would be back to her regular old self as soon as the swelling went down so I am trusting him. Please send warm comforting thoughts to her as she heals.

Endorphins- those tricky bastards

There's an athlete under here. It's neat to see her again. I'm starting to understand why my crazy flailing attempts to hit balls that are out of reach often succeed. It's interesting to find myself stopping short when I want to say "Oh, I can't do that" and instead think, Can I figure out how to do that? My coach was super excited today about what I picked up. There are some days where you can't miss, and this wasn't one of those, but with his individual focus and immediate corrections, I was able to incorporate his instructions a lot better. He'd teach, I'd hit, he'd call out corrections, and then I could hit the same shot over and over. He'd stop to celebrate and make me acknowledge it. He said he taught six lessons today, and mine... then he just shook his head and said I did awesome.

Tomorrow I'll go to the drill with another coach, and he's good for different reasons. They have different ways of explaining it, and my Tuesday coach has these funny reminders, like "Stand your ground! Don't you let that 1 ounce ball intimidate you!" or calling somebody a dolphin because they ran up too far and got caught in the net.

In a year, I've worn through my shoes. That's not impressive for a pro, but it is for me, taking classes and practicing just a few hours a week. As my Tuesday coach said when commending my decision to favor my knee instead racing for a really short ball, "I know you wanted to go for it. Thats not something you can teach people."

Someone said to me recently that they feel this point happens when people start something new, especially some kind of exercise. Things are fun and great for a while, then your body starts protesting. My right side is, in the words of my massage therapist, "jacked up," but she informed me that the orthotics and plantar fasciitis stretches are working, as my feet no longer feel like bricks. I am feeling better. I hurt, but I feel like I'm just challenging the way my body has adapted to move, and I'm working on getting it in the direction of how it's supposed to move. I'm still carrying weight, and I think I still look the same, but I am suddenly feeling a lot less apologetic about my body. I'm gonna go ahead and be a giraffe now and trust that I can both reach the tall branches and outrun the lions.

Working on it

I must remind myself that it’s been less than a year since I’ve been on the pump, and this will ALWAYS be a process. The endocrinologist changed my basal rates, and I have been crashing left and right ever since. What I need to do is upload my data and send him the results. He’ll see it and give me new rates to plug in. I’ve got to calm down and pay attention enough to find a pattern, which coincidentally works with what I’m doing in another area. I’m tracking my total carbs, and circling which carbs are for covering lows. That ought to give me a pretty clear picture.

 

This has turned into a stay the hell home and rest week. I canceled tennis on Monday and Tuesday to rest my right side, and on Wednesday I came home to my AC blowing hot air and the smoke detector chirping its low battery warning. It was 87 degrees in there, and Jackson and Riley were panting. I called maintenance and opened up all the windows. Thankfully, the wind was picking up, moving some air through the apartment for the cat, but I took the dogs outside and we sat in the breezy shade until they stopped panting. I replaced the battery to the relief of all the animals. The maintenance guy came and fixed the AC and gave me a very gentle reminder to change out the air filter a little more often. By the time all that was done, I would have been an hour late to my mindfulness class, so I stayed home and took a nap. Last night, Ant and Kirsten were supposed to come for dinner, but Ant has a new job at a Subway, and is working a new schedule.

 

Tonight I’m doing a review with my class, then meeting a friend to proofread some work for her graduate level classes. I’m also supposed to help edit the final draft for a med school applicant. This weekend is filling up fast, and I intend to have fun and get stuff done, but also get some more damn rest.

The lights come on at 10:30

All I really want to do right now is write and process all these wonderful things I was just discussing with Dad, but why is it always time to get ready for bed?

Jackson is here- the impish wonder that is Amanda and Natalia's dog, and Riley has gotten used to him. Solo is busy hiding. Yesterday I spent all day rearranging furniture- sometimes the same piece 10 or 12 times because I can't picture what it looks like or if it will work until I see it. Thank god for those little plastic slider discs with the foam on one side- I was sliding furniture all over the place. I was too sore to sleep last night.

I like it better now- or for now, anyway. I think it will work better for my purposes, and Mini got a new cat shelf situation that she LOVES without costing me any more money or holes in the wall. When I did my lease renewal, I found out my security deposit was only $200. Hahahahaha.

I have to edit a paper before I can go to bed, and I am hoping to sleep tonight, but I wanted to put something down because I am busy accomplishing shit over here, and I want to document that. My wonderfully vague yet relevant horoscope says I am to balance valid greed and obligatory sharing, and I think those terms are timely, interesting, and laughably Jenny.

I am feeling stress, and I am trying to translate it to good things. I do feel good things around me, but I want this time- the time I need to write and think and produce. I am learning how to use my strengths to my advantage, and those things are neat- when I hit on one, it's like being catapulted ahead. I'm also learning to stop berating myself, when there are so many other people who can do that for me.

Thanks for the talk, Dad.

Hanging out to dry

Apartment living is usually fine, but sometimes poopy. Today it's annoying because there are 11 people and one washer and dryer, and everybody in the free world has to work the same stupid schedule. I am also frustrated because the price on that stupid washer and dryer just went up AGAIN and I suspect somebody here smokes inside their apartment because this year when I turn on my AC, it smells like cigarettes in here. Big heaving sigh...

All the more reason to keep making hefty progress on the stupid debt. I'm on track and it's funny- I keep thinking I can't make these hefty extra payments because what if something happens... but then I point out to myself that part of my goal is to have the credit card available for such emergencies and I do have money in savings. It's just a foreign idea to me to have access to those things, because I have lived so long without them. For the past few years, I was just too close to the bone, and before that, well... you know.

I'm very proud of myself for getting to this point. It is a slow process, to be sure. I expect to actually be able to move next year, and my plan has a lot more shape and seems very realistic now. Getting tired of apartment living is part of the process, and I've been pretty patient. I do love a lot about this place, and it is still my cozy home, but I am looking forward to taking my next step.