You know it's time to write a blog when you wake up and realize you were dreaming about writing a blog.
Not to depress you, but things are serious in the Addiverse. Well, not ALL serious--after all, it IS the Addiverse. There is always a good time to be had somewhere in the Universe. I'm getting ready for yet another wedding ceremony (this time wearing camouflage), a preying mantis was hanging out on our front door (a sure sign of good luck), I successfully survived a semi-technology free weekend while with friends at the Love Loft. (I got smacked when I reached for my phone to check the weather. My excuses fell on deaf ears--the wife exclaimed, "If you want to know the weather, look out the window!") I have a whole pile of brownies in the freezer. You cannot have a bad day when you know you have a stockpile of brownies in the freezer....even better when you know there is ice cream right beside them.
But, not everything can be peachy. With that, I speak of my dying client and of Freckles. Let's start with the dog, as it is the less depressing of the two. As you know, our elderly canine gets more elderly every day. Forget the deaf and blind nonsense--that's a given. She smells terrible--even worse than usual--she's got all these sores and now she has started biting at people when startled or, I'm guessing, when you touch somewhere she is in pain. She keeps us up into the wee hours with all the licking of her wounds--I'm so tired, I can't even see straight anymore. (Bandaging the more obvious wounds did no good--she just licks the bandages, which is still licking.) She can still get around for her morning walk, she still eats like a champ, still asks to go outside (no accidents in the house, knock on wood) and, her brain seems to be working just fine. I'm taking her to the vet on Monday to see what we can do about possible pain issues. I have no problem drugging the dog if it gives her quality of life. (Heck, I have no problem drugging myself if it improves my quality of life.) Even the wife admits I am not exaggerating any more. Over the past week, she's asked me, "Do you think Freckles is dying?" and "Do you think she's rotting from the inside out?" (I told you she smells really bad.) The wife has always been steadfast about the dog being fine, so this teetering on the topic is disturbing to me. Freckles is even fighting with me about the eye drops--which is something she has never done. I'm guessing her eye hurts terribly. I wish they could just take her eye out and sew her eyelids shut. I bet it would feel a lot better than having that blind orb. .
Last night, while I was dreaming about writing a blog, I also dreamed that Freckles' "time" had come and I was at the vet doing what you do at the end of a pet's life. I've never seen that procedure (only read about it and heard about it from friends), so I'm surprised how detailed the dream was. I woke up and decided I was dreaming about that because Freckles was licking and smelling up the room.
Monday will be telling. It is what it is. Maybe it's just more expensive pills and eyeball surgery. If it's "time," that dog is going to have the best week of her life. McDonalds every night, peanut butter by the jar, shopping cart rides at local pet stores.
You know the damn dog is gonna live five more years now that I've written this.
As for my dying client, well he's dying. I know--he's dying, so why am I saying he's dying? It's because he's arrived at the end. We went to the oncologist the other day and were left in a room for about an hour. AN HOUR! Nary a person came near that room, which was super-weird because the doctor is an on-time kind of guy. The only time he was running behind schedule, they told the entire waiting room. The nurses are usually zipping around, smiles and warmth oozing out of them. People call out to you and say hi. My client got up and looked around and didn't see anyone. After about 45 minutes, I started to worry--shit, they are saving us for last. This is not good. I could tell that the client also realized something was up, as nothing like this had ever transpired. Sure enough, we were the last client right before lunch.
When an oncologist comes in and says, "we've got to talk," you know it's not about the weather. The chemo didn't work, the cancer has grown, it's time for hospice. This doctor has always said he doesn't prescribe hospice until there are 30 days left, so that means we're looking at 30 days. The doctor offered a different type of chemo (which I thought sounded absolutely awful) but I don't think my client heard him. It was my job to get the details. That's why you take someone with you when you go to the doctor--as the patient, you can't comprehend all this news. I listened while he cried. I moved chairs and sat next to him as the doctor talked about options and test results. He then turned to me and asked me, "What should I do?"
Dear god, do not be asking me questions like that. I softly responded that he needs to answer that question, make that big decision. He then grabbed me and started bawling.
I did not cry. It's my job not to cry. It's my job to listen. I can cry later. I knew this was coming and knew what I was getting into. This is what I am here to do. It is an honor to do it. I can cry much later.
The oncologist kept saying he was sorry. He shook my hand and told me he was sorry. I'm sorry, too. There was nothing to say but "thank you."
It was a very quiet ride home.
I am going to visit with him tomorrow--yes, on a Sunday. Weekends don't matter when you have 30 days to live. We are going to talk about his options and about what hospice "does." His biggest concern is pain. I called the nurse yesterday to ask about this--she assured me he won't be in pain. I will make sure he knows this and I, too will make sure he is not in pain. Hospice nurses are angels. He will be in the hands of angels and will not feel pain.
This morning, when I awoke after my blog writing and dog-dying dream, I had a morbid thought--what if they both die on the same day? I pondered this for a millisecond.....then, I realized I was just being a drama queen, so I stopped such silly thoughts.
I got up and ate some brownies for breakfast. I felt much better. Brownies can soothe what ails you.
I did not have ice cream with my brownies, as it seemed wrong to have brownies with ice cream for breakfast. I can have that for lunch.
If you have a hankerin' to make some brownies, please feel free to send some my way. I'm going to need brownies. I'll buy the ice cream if you bring the brownies. Frosted, plain, powder-sugared, caramel infused, chocolate-chip filled.....a brownie is a brownie is a brownie. I prefer NOT to have nuts in my brownies but I'll take what I get. I also prefer you don't put anything weird in my brownies, but if you'd like to do that for my client, who am I to say anything? Heh heh.
Now that you are all somber and depressed, be assured that all really is well in the Addiverse. Don't be getting all maudlin on me. Make brownies, not tears. We have lots of fun things planned for today. The dog is very much alive. The weather is warmer than it's supposed to be. We have our house, our friends, our family, our love, our jobs, our smart phones. We have access to brownies. We have more than most. We have much for which to be grateful. Those are things to celebrate. So, celebrate with us. We have so much happiness and life......
....I can always use more brownies, though. Just sayin'.
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