Unimaginative Update
Humph.
Most definitely not Addison's.
All the vets are stumped. Apparently all they discuss is my damned dog these days. Fame and Notoriety. The vet on the night shift last night even shared part of his dinner with her. She did condescend to eat some of his pork roast. Not as much of the dog food, though. Now they are back to wondering if she ate some toxin but we can't come up with anything after an extensive brainstorming session over the phone this afternoon.
So tonight, I will be driving myself crazy going over everything of the week before last. Nothing like fruitless, obsessive thoughts to soothe oneself. I spent an hour with a 5" human medical book on my stomach, mindlessly searching for a human equivalent, instead of napping this afternoon.
Good thing I have Johnny to bounce things off of. (Thank you, angel.)
Good thing I have all of you to vent to.
Wouldn't blame you if you took a week or maybe a month off from this blog. Just a feckin' rollercoaster.
Still, she is slightly better. But not good enough to come home, mind you.
Oh, and her bladder has stopped functioning and is just laying there like a stuporous bum. And she has a tender place at the back of her cervical spine.
Go team!
Most definitely not Addison's.
All the vets are stumped. Apparently all they discuss is my damned dog these days. Fame and Notoriety. The vet on the night shift last night even shared part of his dinner with her. She did condescend to eat some of his pork roast. Not as much of the dog food, though. Now they are back to wondering if she ate some toxin but we can't come up with anything after an extensive brainstorming session over the phone this afternoon.
So tonight, I will be driving myself crazy going over everything of the week before last. Nothing like fruitless, obsessive thoughts to soothe oneself. I spent an hour with a 5" human medical book on my stomach, mindlessly searching for a human equivalent, instead of napping this afternoon.
Good thing I have Johnny to bounce things off of. (Thank you, angel.)
Good thing I have all of you to vent to.
Wouldn't blame you if you took a week or maybe a month off from this blog. Just a feckin' rollercoaster.
Still, she is slightly better. But not good enough to come home, mind you.
Oh, and her bladder has stopped functioning and is just laying there like a stuporous bum. And she has a tender place at the back of her cervical spine.
Go team!
Labels: The Furry Ones
posted by Diana at 8:02 PM
4 Comments:
Well, you know what I think abt the L, penicillin and penicillin and then some more penicillin, and re-hydration, loads of it.
The very stupid dog! Dog, get better already and once and for all, this is not The Done Thing at all. We are not amused.
I hope you've rested, I truly do. No way to help Emma if you yourself become ill bcs your immune system crashed - oh wait, HASN'T IT ALREADY?? Sleep some, buy prepared Thanksgiving munchies, it's only food you know, SLEEP.
[By "stuporous bum" you mean "stuporous vagrant" right? Bcs I translated it as "stuporous arse" and it makes sense as well, I know mine feels that way at times. But then I remembered you are Americo and therefore you must be referring to a person, not a person's hanging bits. This intercultural living will kill me yet!]
Oh dear. I'm now holding my breath and hoping and hoping and hoping they figure the poor pup out soon, and that she gets better.
How old is she? I know you must have told us all, but I don't remember.
Everyone knows that sick animals eat grass. Give her a handful from Grandpa.
Yes, it will be a happy Thanksgiving, abeit a little late this year.
First Colin, then Emma. Let's call a halt to the "excitement" and get back to normal. Absolutely no need for a third problem. There, Dad has spoken
Love, RFer
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