does it ever stop?
The good news? My body decided to just heal its damn self without physical therapy. It took so long to get in to see the therapist that, by the time it was time, I was off pain meds for about 5 days and was walking with barely a limp. The pain seemed to come and go as quickly as it went, though it did debilitate me for a good week. Part of me wonders if I was too hasty in canceling. Because surely, there was something that caused it that probably needs to be addressed. But the idea of going through all that whatever and paying for it, too, just wasn’t appealing. I’ll go if the pain comes back, even a little bit. For now, though, I’m just grateful to almost be normal.
The first real test of this came this past week when Fogg went down the rabbit hole again. We ended up going to the ER because she’d stopped eating and drinking–likely due to upset tummy crap due to a hairball. She’d been barfing hairballs for days, every day, which is unusual. But for her to not drink anything, I was super worried. We got her eating at the vet’s office. Turns out, she was just not feeling the foods I have here–since she’s eaten all of them during times of crap, and now she associates all the food with being ill. Not good. The food she ate? Not the best for diabetics. But there’s literally nothing else she will eat, so it’s going to have to be okay.
I wonder if more is going on with her and fear we haven’t seen the last of this round of whatever. Her appetite stimulant wore off a bit today, and she wasn’t too interested again. So, I gave her more, and she’s eating well. But eventually, she has to live without it. I suspect we’ll have future IBD problems just because of that thickening they noted on her ultrasound. Diabetes seems to bring sleeping issues to the surface in often unpredictable ways. That makes me cringe. IBD does not play well with diabetes and neither does its treatment. Since the hairballs seem to be causing the tummy woes–or at least–triggering them–we’re going to cut her hair and give her a lion’s cut.
Finding a groomer on short notice was so annoying, but Thursday, we take the plunge. It’s–of course–expensive. And I really don’t want to do it. I love her furry belly and her sweet fluffy tail. I’ll miss snuggling with her. But it will stop her from overgrooming and make injections so much easier. Sigh. My poor beauty.
I’ve also been having some major issues with her insulin. I’ve been handling it perfectly, but it’s still getting contaminated or going bad after 1 month. It’s $300 a pop–which pisses me off so much. So I just don’t want to deal with this. I think I figured out what’s going on. Either our fridge is too cold or the lubricant in the syringes is contaminating the vial.
I’m feeling more and more stressed about finances for the future. Work is a pain right now, and I feel like it’s impossible to meet this month’s goal–no matter what I do. Which is fine, but I really need that bonus.
I’m just…UGH. I feel like my ptsd is flaring, too–which sucks, btw.
It all connects in this shitshow that’s 2016. Full of all the things you really never want and a big FU sign to just deal with it. I’m not happy about any of it, but I feel like I’m doing all that I can. Still, people are often bullies for no reason. And the Universe is often such a colossal bitch. I need an extended vacation from life.