Wow, the crap comes in multiples, doesn’t it?
First, we STILL don’t have a paved driveway. It was supposed to have happened two weeks ago, but the rain postponed it three times since then and now we’re shooting for next Tuesday and Wednesday. Weather depending. We just experienced one of the driest summers on record and nobody was available to do it. Now that we’ve found a contractor who is willing, we can’t get two dry days in a row when the cement and pumper trucks are available. It’s just one roadblock after another. Beyond frustrating.
Then, my eye. Since my tear duct surgery the end of June, it’s been GREAT. No excess tearing whatsoever, and I’ve been over the moon. Last week I went to the eye doctor and he removed the stent. [Explanation: The surgery created a new channel, or tear duct, and they inserted a stent to keep the tissue from growing back together and closing it up. Once it’s fully healed, the stent is removed and the new tear duct is good to go. Supposedly.] Anyway, having the stent removed was no big deal and the doctor did warn me that I may experience some tearing for a little while. (I should have asked “Why?” And also “How long is a little while?”) I swear, the instant that stent was removed, my eye has been a raging river. It’s back to how it was before the surgery. Again, beyond frustrating. But I keep thinking that he warned me, so I figure I should give it some time and wait and see before getting my panties too much in a wad. Tomorrow it’ll have been a week and if it’s not improved by then (and it hasn’t improved one bit so far) I will call and find out what the the hell is going on.
And then. The worst thing of all.
Since we’ve owned this property here on Harstine—fifteen years!—whenever we’d turn onto the private gravel road (from the county road) about a mile from our place, both Peanut and Bailey would KNOW it was time to hang out the open window from John’s lap and bark at the deer and feel the breeze in their ears. The road is narrow and gravelly, and then later it’s paved but still very narrow and curvy in spots, so you always drive slowly (partly because there’s always a chance you’ll encounter another car coming from the opposite direction which means moving over to make room). After Peanut died, John has been taking Bailey with him to drive to the mail box, which is at the county road. She LOVES it. She gets to go for a ride in the truck and hang out the window at 5-10 mph and maybe bark at a deer! On Friday they did just that, John jangling his truck keys that Bailey can’t hear but she sees just fine and knows exactly what they signify, and off they went. And then shortly returned with John carrying Bailey with a stricken look on his face.
She’d tumbled out the window. The high-up truck window. Never, ever, in the past 15 years did this even come close to happening.
She was bleeding a little from the nose and mouth, and she was obviously in shock. She didn’t exhibit obvious pain when we gently touched her all over, no obvious broken bones. We suspected internal injuries, so John whisked her off to the emergency vet in Olympia, an hour away. Long story short, she had an issue with high blood pressure and a low pulse rate, which was indicative of head trauma. X-rays were fine. They kept her for two days and administered meds through an IV for the blood pressure/pulse issue, and she responded to that. Sunday, we drove in to see her and assess whether we could bring her home. It was discouraging because she was NOT herself. Part of it was pain meds, but she was lethargic and spacey. Also, her hind legs were all floppy and paralyzed, likely from spinal swelling. We brought her home because if she’s going to improve, it’ll take some time and being in familiar surroundings seemed like it would be good for her. She has definitely improved, from not being able to use her hind legs at all, to being able to stand (with help) and take a few steps before collapsing, to actually walking quite well today! She even used the pet door! But she runs out of oomph quickly, her appetite isn’t great, and then there is the issue of incontinence…
And so, the kicker.
This Friday we were to fly to San Diego to attend Quinn’s first birthday party on Saturday. John had made arrangements with his good friend at the Hydroplane Museum who has three dachshunds to watch Bailey while we were gone. (There was even a meet-and-greet a few weeks ago at the Museum for Bailey and their female dachshund to meet and get to know each other, and all went well). But now we feel that’s not a workable solution, and we considered that John would stay home with Bailey and I would fly down alone. The problem is I’m unwilling to DRIVE in San Diego. Call me a wuss, I’ll accept that! Every time we’ve been down there, I’ve been petrified to even be a passenger on all of those myriad webs of freeways where everybody drives a minimum of 80 mph. That is honestly not an exaggeration. So, in an unfamiliar rental car, in unfamiliar territory (I never could figure out where the hell I was when we were there), just strikes me with daggers of anxiety. The kids have house guests, so I would need to stay in the hotel and rely on Nate—during a very hectic time for them—to ferry me around. So, we’ve decided to cancel the trip and hopefully aim for another time down the road, maybe Thanksgiving. It makes me sad, but it is what it is. And I’m OK about it. The birthday party is a shared party for both Quinn and Sandra’s friend’s daughter, located at a park about 20 miles away. There will be ponies. And lots of people. So…a quieter time when both John and I can go would be best. I’ve implored them to take millions of pictures and videos.
Sigh.