It’s time to make Eric cry again.

It’s time to make Eric cry again.

It’s getting a little heavy here. There are a lot of strong emotions and one of my most favorite coping mechanisms, when I start getting dragged down, is PINTEREST! The problem is when I start spending time on PINTEREST, I start getting ideas.

If you recall the nightmare that was Caleb’s room redesign then you know, you know, why me getting ideas is bad. But this time it will be different! This time we really are only talking 2 gallons of paint. Ahem. You can stop laughing now!

All I really need to do is narrow down my ideas a bit…

OK, maybe a lot…but, in my defense, I do have two different sets of stairs to do…

Yeah, he’s so going to cry…but I have to say, in the end, my ideas do turn out stunningly so it will be totally worth it. At least it was last time, right?

Nothing to see here.

I used up my very last brain cell yesterday coming up with a plan for C’s weekend story to share. Hurricane cleanup and preparation, fun!

Today we’re hanging out inside where it’s dry, listening to the wind whipping through the trees outside while we wait for Hurricane Sandy to arrive. Caleb always finds ways to amuse himself, we started with tickles, then TV, then lunch, then computer, then marbles and now a little more computer.

What is a Money to do when her little man is becoming so self-sufficient? How about look through lots of old pictures looking for photos of the little man’s epic curls? OK! I’m easily amused, clearly, but come on…how can anyone resist this?

At loose ends.

I don’t know how else to describe myself these days but to say that I am at loose ends. I’m not very good at grieving, I guess. I expected the tears. I expected to keep being brought up short when my Bubba wasn’t where I expected him to be. I expected the emptiness. I expected to be constantly tired. I expected to be revisited by my old friend insomnia. I didn’t expect this restlessness. This feeling that something is missing that stays at a low level in the background of my consciousness all day, everyday…even when I’m otherwise occupied, even when I’m happy.

Sometimes I look at Barley (aka, the other dog) and I get the feeling that he’s there with me, just as lost, and I feel awful that I don’t know what to do for him. I guess there is nothing to be done. This isn’t something fixable. I had hoped that having Copper back home would help but Eric picked up his ashes over the weekend and this is still there. I know time will help but, despite feeling like time is moving way too fast in every other way, it seems at be running at a snail’s pace in this regard.

On a happier note, Monkey is feeling mostly better and he returned to school yesterday! We were all very happy and when we got to school he had more cards from friends. They made me smile, there are a LOT of hearts and a LOT of love in these…click on each image to enlarge.

I laughed more than I cried today.

I call that a good day.

For those who are still unaware, we had to say goodbye to Copper last Friday. Even after everything we had been through with him, even knowing for weeks that our time together was limited, I was still surprised by how quickly it all happened at the end. At the beginning of last week I had said to Eric that I thought we might not leave the vet’s office with him after his Friday morning appointment and then my boy, a fighter to the very end, rallied and I allowed myself to hope for a little bit more…I am a greedy girl.

Unfortunately,  his rally was more based on his fighting spirit than actual improvement. Monkey was home sick and had accompanied us to the appointment. He was very upset and did not want to take Copper inside when we arrived. After I promised him that we would take Copper home with us, he settled down. Then Copper collapsed in the vet’s office during the exam. Eric took Monkey to the car to wait while the vet and I discussed how to proceed. She did not think it was time to euthanize him, she thought with an adjustment to his medication we would be OK.

She ran some simple blood tests while I waited just to be sure there wasn’t anything more going on. When she brought back the results, the printout was covered in red ink. His kidneys had failed. I was given 2 options, 24-48 hours on an IV in their emergency hospital or euthanasia. I had promised Caleb that Copper would be going home with us. I also just knew…his time was short even with the IV treatment. I didn’t want his last days to be spent with strangers in a hospital. So she gave him fluids under the skin and I told her I would call our regular vet for an appointment the next day.

When we got home around 11, I convinced Copper to eat a bit and we cuddled on the couch. By 2 he was too weak to move around and I moved our appointment to that afternoon at 4. It was utter torture to sit there with him, knowing the minutes were ticking away bringing us closer to our goodbye…mostly because they weren’t going fast enough. I know that sounds horrible but my love for him, this dog who was the only lifeline I could see when my depression had been at its worst, was such that I couldn’t bear his pain. I would take my heartache and grief gladly if only to spare him those painful hours.

Many years ago I promised Copper that I would never leave him. As hard as it was, I kept that promise until his last breath. I’m glad I was there, I know he was completely comfortable at the end. I heard his last breath and felt the last strong beats of his heart, he did not suffer. The suffering is left for us to bear. The only moment I feared I could not cope with was the moment when I had to finally break the promise and leave him there while I went home. It took a long time for me to do it but I did finally do it. I am counting the days until he comes home again for good. I won’t leave him again.

I know there is a good percentage of people who think I’m nuts, some might even be related to me…but he saved my life. When I had to make a promise to my doctor, all those years ago, when she wanted to admit me to the hospital to treat my depression, I promised I would not hurt myself because I couldn’t leave Copper. That promise that I had made to him when I adopted him was the promise I leaned on when I didn’t have anything else.

So today, when my son was spraying me with vomit, I laughed because, really what else can you do at a moment like that? And I suddenly realized that I had laughed a lot today. Even though there is ((and always will be)) a Copper-shaped hole in my heart he did more for me than I could ever hope to do for anyone else. He had been my reason to keep going and, because I did, I found a whole new world of reasons to keep going. I have Eric and Caleb and Holly and these awesome ((fucking)) Mamas I go out to eat with every month and the Cupcake ladies and CANADA and the Pinterest peeps and you…each one of you reading this and supporting us and loving us…it’s all a gift from him.

So if my love for him seems over the top it’s because his gift to me was so…wondrous.

Welcome to 2012! Nothing will change.

Welcome to 2012! Nothing will change.

No money fairy is going to swoop down and deposit $1,000,000 in my account. No job fairy is going to flit through and drop a raise, promotion or career change in my lap. FXS fairies are not going to swarm my friends and family and revise what FXS has changed or return what was taken from us. It’s not going to happen…and that sucks, eh?

This is why I don’t like New Years, there is all this hype because it’s a NEW YEAR! It’s a FRESH START! Life will be so much BETTER, just wait and see! But it doesn’t work like that…ever. It sounds a bit like my inner Pollyanna has a hangover, eh? I guess I better get to the point before someone ((Holly)) kicks my ass.

Welcome to 2012! Nothing will change…unless I change it. Yesterday, as I was moping around in my PJs, it suddenly hit me that the things that have changed for the better in my life, and there are a lot, are things that I changed. I made conscious decisions and put in the work even when I felt sick to my stomach over the idea of changing. I have only ever grown as a person when I’ve put myself out there on a limb, knowing that it might snap under my feet at any second.

Why is it that taking risks have that effect? I suspect because it reminds me of something I learned a long time ago but sometimes need to be reminded of…

Today, I’m stepping out on a limb that is feeling pretty shaky underfoot already but 2012 has so much potential…I just can’t waste it by standing still waiting for a fairy that won’t ever show ((Although, if there is a money fairy, she is welcome at any time!!)).

 

Saved by an Elf.

Saved by an Elf.

On the first Wednesday night of the month I was out to dinner with some of my most favorite ladies in the world and one of them had brought up this “elf thing.” Most of us had not heard of this phenomena. She described it in great detail and not terribly positively either, I might add. I decided the entire concept of having this “elf” creeping around your house was…creepy. I mean, really? “You never know know where the thing might turn up next!” that’s what I’m supposed to tell my anxious little, sleep challenged Monkey? Yeah, no. Definitely, no.

Then we got the confirmation that Copper’s health was about to take a serious downturn. The stress in our house ratcheted up a dozen notches with each subsequent phone call or vet appointment. I began reading reviews on books about breaking your child’s heart in one simple step. I was very concerned that I find just the right books to say what I could not seem to say on my own. It’s one thing to write it here, “Monkey, Copper is dying. Soon he won’t be here anymore and we are all going to be very, very sad.” but it’s a whole other ball of wax to look my little cherub in the eye and get those words to pass through my lips.

I needed a story, something to make it OK for me so I could try to make it OK for him. I also needed a story that did not end with, “And then his Mommy and Daddy got him a puppy and everyone was happy again!” Because…oh, fucking hell no. That isn’t the way our story is going to end ((At least, not until Mommy can get her mind around loving another dog and it not being a betrayal of the perfect, little beast who has held her heart for the last 13 years. That, my friends, will take some time I suspect.)). So, the only way to be sure that the “and they find a way to heal” portion didn’t involve anything furry was to go and look. I strolled through the book store and passed an endcap that looked a little something like this…

And I laughed, “Hahahaha!” with bitter undertones because I was there to look at books that would make me cry in public. I was not exactly shiny and happy at that moment. I read the books, I made a wise decision and I moved on.

But the crappy news did not stop, no it did not, so soon I was once again in the same bookstore looking at yet more books that would make me cry in public because 4 books was not enough to make me feel prepared ((Hey, quick interesting aside, I have discovered that no matter how many books I buy, I still do not feel prepared! Who knew?)). I had to walk past the endcap again and I found myself glancing at it out of the corner of my eye. Yes, he was still creepy but…no. I had other things to focus on, like death and dying and…*sigh*

I pulled out my phone to check an e-mail and it was a notice that I’d been tagged in a status on Facebook by the lovely Holly Roos that said “FINE. I’ll stop paying bills, get dressed and go to the damn store. Thanks Melissa Jackson Welin. ;-$” I’m not exactly sure how it all happened because we had both been pretty firmly on the “Sure it’s cute but who has time for that.” side of the Elf on a Shelf argument when I’d left my desk.

I turned on my heel ((Not stilettos, sadly)) grabbed one of the damned elves and just like that…I was suddenly one of “Them.” I would have been more embarrassed about my sudden change of heart except that Holly was right there with me, as your best friends always are. I’ve taken her excitement about it as permission to let my freak flag fly (as Paula would say). Every night since, instead of spending hours on the computer researching and counting down the days to the Day of Doom, I’ve been immersing myself in making magical moments come to life for my little Monkey.

So, fine, it is still a little creepy if you think about it too hard and, yes, everyone else is doing it too which immediately makes it uncool but, guess what? I’ve been uncool my whole life and if that’s what it takes to get my son’s face to light up each night as he wishes our little Sneak good night and then again in the morning as he calls out, “Would you look at that!” when he finds him, then so be it. He might just be a “lame” stuffed toy but there is magic in him…I’ve felt it every day since he joined us. He hasn’t worked a major miracle, I’m still sad and obsessed about what’s going on with Copper ((You may have noticed.)), but I consider it a minor miracle to feel any sort of true happiness right now…and the time I spend with Sneak, plotting, I’m truly happy. I’m going to miss the little dude when he’s gone.

 

Besties (or, A Photographic Examination of True Love)

Besties (or, A Photographic Examination of True Love)

Once upon a time there was a young girl living far, far away from home. She was lonely and unemployed, depending on another for food and shelter and companionship. That’s an awful lot of pressure to put on one single person, especially one who was often away from home on deployments. She was so lost and needy, a puppy seemed like the perfect solution. It would be a distraction, it would be someone to love, someone to talk to during the long days.

She found a group of amazingly dedicated dog people, people who treated their animals with the respect and kindness they deserve ((a few of them are still friends these many years later)), people who opened her eyes to the true cost of those pet store puppies. Armed with this new knowledge she drove to a nearby Humane Society to find the puppy of her dreams.

There were two maternity pens filled with little, wiggling, brindle-colored, lumps of love. She stood and looked at them but no one of them spoke to her heart. Sensing her hesitation, the shelter worker suggested that she look at the pens of adult animals in the rear. She told her that there was a young, female English Springer Spaniel in the back which was exactly what the girl had wanted!

They went out back and headed straight to see this little girl in need of a home but it wasn’t an English Springer Spaniel at all. It was a Brittany Spaniel, which are perfectly lovely dogs, but not what she had been hoping for. This particular young dog was a whirling, spinning, bouncing ball of energy and completely overwhelmed the young girl looking for her first dog. She would make someone a lovely pet but she would need a great deal of training.

The shelter worker encouraged her to look around and left her to walk from pen to pen. Each pen was full. There was so much excitement and happiness in those pens, they were all so thrilled to see her. She could hear them begging, “Pick me! Pick me!” What started out as a fun and exciting trip suddenly seemed so much harder. How could she pick?

She hit the next to last run in the hall and turned to retrace her steps, there was no excited, barking dog in that last pen…it was empty. On an impulse she peeked in the run, though, and saw the saddest, little red dog sitting in the back of the pen. He was pressed against the concrete wall, his ears laid back, his face turned away. He looked pretty sketchy, to be honest.

She turned and continued her trip through the rest of the shelter. The shelter worker pulled dog after dog from the pens and let her take them in the yard to play. After an hour, she was covered in dog hair, her arms were scratched from the over enthusiastic play attempts, she was exhausted and she still hadn’t found the one. Every time she returned to the kennel building she peeked at that sketchy little dog in the last run. He never once turned to look at her.

She felt guilty for writing him off, she finally asked the worker about him. He was new, he’d just been turned in that morning by his owner. They didn’t know his name or how old he was. They had just been handed his leash and his owner had left. Reluctantly, she asked the worker if they could take him outside.

When the worker unsnapped his leash in the fenced yard he took off as fast as his legs could carry him, much to the girl’s disappointment. All the other dogs had been eager for attention. She squatted there on the ground and watched him race to the furthest point of the yard where he squatted to pee and pee and pee and pee. He stopped long enough to poop twice and then he peed again. When he was finished, he kicked his feet out happily behind him, turning in a circle as he did it. He looked like he was dancing. Then he turned his smiling face toward her and raced straight to her with his astounding, gravity defying ears perfectly erect. He was the one, she knew it now. She never once doubted him again, he was hers, she was his…this was her heart dog.

It took a few days for Copper to reveal his name to me, I know it sounds silly but we tried on dozens of names until we hit on one he responded to immediately. He has been the keeper of my secrets for many, many years. One of those secrets was this…there were two things I wanted to give him more than anything…a yard to play in and a little boy of his own. I knew he would love them both. I was wrong on the yard, Copper would much rather lounge on the couch than play in a yard but I was right about the other…he loves his little boy.

 

An update on Copper.

An update on Copper.

We visited with the oncologist today and it seems that there’s more going on here than we had been told.

Copper’s white blood count really impressed her, she hasn’t ever seen it get so high before. He is an overachiever there. His liver and kidney values are a little wonky but she thinks he can handle the potential treatment options. His pancreas numbers were off and his urine sample was off too.  Basically, he’s an old dog with cancer and maybe more. Wouldn’t that just be ducky?

We still aren’t certain which type of cancer it is. Either I misheard or my vet wasn’t clear but it’s still possibly sarcoma. It will take up to 2 weeks for the additional tests to come back. Regardless, this is an aggressive cancer and it is widespread in his mouth.

We were given a bunch of different options ranging from surgery to remove up to 1/2 his lower jaw to simple pain management with a few other possibilities in between. We have eliminated the surgery, it’s too much for a dog his age. I can’t put him through that. We’ve also eliminated the simple pain management. I want more than a couple weeks to possibly 2 (messy, uncomfortable) months if I can get it.

SO, the plan, the plan, the plan. What is the plan?

  1. Copper is having his WBC checked again to be sure it’s dropping after a week and a half on the antibiotics. If not, we have even bigger problems than we thought.
  2. Copper is having an abdominal ultrasound to check for a possible bladder tumor.
  3. Copper is having his lymph nodes aspirated to be sure the cancer hasn’t spread. They feel OK but this is the only way to know for sure.
  4. Copper will stay on his pain medication, his antibiotics and we’ll add an anti-inflammatory.
  5. Copper will begin radiation next week.

Beyond that it’s just a bunch of “If”s.

None of what we are planning, though, is a cure. This is not fixable. We can keep him comfortable, we can buy him some time…maybe enough time for something *else* to get him. She is hoping we can get another 4-8 months. I’m holding out hope that I’ll see him become a 17 year old dog…

I added another book to our library of pain, I really like this one.

In spring, when City Dog runs free in the country for the first time, he spots Country Frog sitting on a rock, waiting for a friend. “You’ll do,” Frog says, and together they play Country Frog games. In summer, they meet again and play City Dog games. Through the seasons, whenever City Dog visits the country he runs straight for Country Frog’s rock. In winter, things change for City Dog and Country Frog. Come spring, friendship blooms again, a little different this time.

It’s about the loss of a friend and finding a new one.  It’s for Ages 3 and up. It made me cry. Everything makes me cry right now though.