Crossing the bridges …
I have come to the conclusion that life isn’t supposed to be easy, and l am none too sure where the notion first sprung from that it is?
If it’s not one thing it’s another, obstacles on the journey, our journey’s are supposed to be there. That if not for those hurdles that life presents to us then our walking down the road to earning life experience points would not actually be lived. Our household is filled to the brim with one stress or another pretty much like everyone else’s homefront l should imagine.
I have my pinched nerve to try and live with not forgetting all the side effects of consuming pills like they are smarties and going out of fashion just so that l can stave off unwanted pain, but l am constantly feeling ill or suffering from headaches, nauseousness and stomach cramps never mind bloat and infrequent visits to the toilet.Being on tablets even if for pain awards a stress of its own, more so and especially if you are anti-chemical as l am, and prefer the organic approach but there is nothing on the market as an alternative that deals 100% effectiveness to actually strike pain a serious blow, and so l am left with no other option except to swallow countless pills to remedy the situation.
Whilst l am not ‘depressed’ per se, this is at my own concession a daily battle to keep the depression doors firmly closed. It is depressing to be in this much pain on a frequent and regular basis, to not have the control of my life anymore, to NOT be able to do the things l want to do, to not be able to offer assistance to my partner and the little l can do is minimalistic in comparison to say four months ago.
My Father is walking the path of the martyr and if he isn’t he certainly is giving the impression that he is. He is ignoring advice offered out of concern and kindness and misinterpreting them as devious acts of conspiracy and when not going through that is trying to avoid actually accepting he has cancer and trying to fight for life, and the living of that. No talk of ‘people live with cancer Dad’ is accepted and instead all the advisers are offered is a repetitive stream of ‘face the facts, l am dying!!’
Which brings a stress around of it own, whether you want it to or not.
My Sister has stopped conversations with me, and l am not too sure why. Trying to organise the trip down to see him next week is leaving me with questions of whether she simply doesn’t want to, can’t be bothered or simply cannot get the time off, but who knows? It is just becoming one big guessing game. Yet that still awards more stress.
Suze is unhappy with her job and is working for uncaring employers who have a very poor understanding of people that work for them and need training, and to boot has recently been diagnosed with Candida – the exact same thing as me. But in addition to all of that she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, nevermind the stresses she has of her own.
I know she is stressed, as today as she left to go out she told me to watch Scrappy, and to not get engrossed in doing things, and that annoyed and upset me somewhat, when do l ever NOT think about Scrappy or Suze. However l had to let that go and Suze is terribly upset at the bridges ahead of us.
New to the stress pot however, as of late last night and today is Scrappy. She was diagnosed with IVDD in January of 2017 and although she received laser treatment and recovered exceedingly well, we were always told that this would be a permanent feature in her life. Last night she started hobbling around, and with no immediate improvement this morning, we harried her down to the vets. many long words later, and l am too subdued to remember them all, she is booked infor x-rays next Tuesday.
She is to be 15 this coming November, and is an extremely hardy dog, but today bless her she is in pain, and now she is on Tramadol [unbelievably ironic don’t you think? I go to a doctor for serious pain and get an anti-depressant yet Scrappy is on direct pain relief?] Obviously we are very concerned for her. Suze and l made a vow to not put her through any more surgery considering her age, and if these x-rays prove correct the problem the vet thinks it might be, then a younger dog would be advised and guided for surgery. For Scrappy however, that is not the option. Suze and l will have to cross the bridge in so far as conservative and alternative treatment for her and sadly may have to start making decisions which could break us both.
However, Scrappy is not at that point yet and whilst oft accused of being naive to certain things, l am not willing to simply accept that there are no alternatives when the vet agreed with us that there were.
But it is still a horribly stressful time with this new addition to the pot. Will keep you all updated.