Dillierama

A girl and her dog

My dog, my friend

I got a the worst possible call this morning from Midnight's vet.  He's been to see the vet four different times over the last couple of months due to blood in his urine and has been on four different antibiotics, none of which have been of any help.  So, this morning, I dropped him off to have a urinalysis and bladder x-ray done.  I went to work thinking about how I was going to pay for surgery or other expensive treatments that may need to be done.  And then, a few hours later, The Call.

The first thing the vet said was "I have bad news."  He then proceeded to tell me that Midnight had a massive tumor in his bladder.  He couldn't do a urinalysis on him because his bladder was full of blood.  He went on to explain that tumors of this type are usually malignant and generally, when they get this large, it means they've likely begun to spread the cancer to other parts of the body.

"OK" I said, still not fully understanding the enormity of what the doctor was telling me.  "What do we do now?  What are the next steps to take"

"You need to start saying goodbye"

My heart stopped beating.

"He will be in a lot of pain, there are no treatment options for canine bladder cancer.  You need to start saying goodbye."

"How long are we talking about here?"

"Weeks. Maybe days."

I left work shortly after having a mini breakdown at my desk and crying into my keyboard.  I went straight to the vet to pick up my dog.  When I got there, I sat down with the doctor and he showed me the x-ray. It didn't look good.  This thing was enormous.  Taking up over half of Middie's bladder.  The doctor explained to me that this was definately advanced.  The tumor is massive. He said that even from the external examination he did this morning, he could tell the tumor had grown from last week when Middie was in last.  The x-ray didn't surprise him.  I spoke with him at length about what I can expect, what will happen to Midnight in the next few weeks.  He told me he'll loose weight (he's been loosing weight steadily for a couple of months now, that I was crediting to diet dog food, apparently it was this cancer), he'll stop eating, he'll stop socializing with the family. He'll get grumpy, he'll be reluctant to move around much.  He'll vomit.  In essence, he'll be miserable.

I was given a couple of medications to take home with me.  To manage the pain and make Midnight more comfortable.  On the way home, I bought him a cheesburger and fries at McDonald's, but he only ate 2 fries and half of one bun and then threw it all up.  I gave him his pain meds and after fidgeting around and panting, he's now snoozing next to the sofa. He wasn't acting this miserable this morning, so I'm betting he's just sore from all the poking and prodding that was done to him today.

But still, I'm left to make the hardest decision.  I have to decide when enough is enough.  I have to decide how miserable I'll let him get.  It won't get better.  He will only get worse.  How bad is bad enough to let him go?  When will I look into his big brown eyes and say "Yea, you're ready buddy.  I won't let you hurt any more."  Maybe tomorrow? Maybe next week? It's hard to say. In the mean time, I'm trying to say goodbye to my best buddy, and I feel like my heart is being ripped out.

Because I just can't stop talking about my boobs

So much so that I've actually added a new category just for posts about my boobs. 

Lefty just can't seem to get with the program.  I stopped nursing over two weeks ago and Righty, well, I think after all the nipple trauma Righty went through in the early months, she was more than happy to dry up immediately in fear that I'd change my mind and want to start up again.  Lefty on  the other hand, always the over achiever, has been running non stop like a leaky faucet.  In fact, Lefty's been soaking through breast pads like crazy.  Just 15 minutes ago I looked down to find my shirt had a wet spot 2 inches in diameter right on my left boob.  And, I'm at work people!  At work, apparently competing in a wet t-shirt contest.

Weekend update: Jamie Socializes!

Over the weekend I attended a neighborhood BBQ.  Being "socially challenged" as I am, my attendance at this event was quite the big-to-do for me.  Especially considering there was a soccer game that night and I chose to go to the BBQ instead. Alone.  Without my husband there to shield me from the social trauma that is my attempting to make small talk with people I barely know.  Well, I wasn't technically alone, I took Alex with me, but he wasn't much help, even if his conversational skills are somewhat better developed than mine.

Part of the reason I thought I should go to this shin-dig was because it was being held, literally, right in front of our house. John did not feel the responsibility to attend that I did, and he happily left for the game leaving me at home frantically slicing watermelon for the potluck.

The BBQ was to begin at 5:30, but I thought I'd be fashionably late, and walk out the door at 6:00.  Of course, I was ready for the BBQ at 5:00 and I spent the hour peeking out my front window blinds to see how many people were already arriving.  Finally I installed Alex in his stroller, packed his diaper bag with formula, baby food and diapers (because apparently I thought being way out there in my front yard is too far to walk to Alex's bedroom for a changing.)  I picked up my gargantuan platter of freshly sliced seedless watermelon and walked down my driveway and into the party, dropping slices of watermelon the whole way.

I had a surprisingly good time. My neighbors are fantastic.  Not like other neighbors we've had, who forever avoid eye contact after they find out we're not members of "The Church".  These neighbors genuinely like us and after the obligatory "are you Mormon" question we got from everyone when we first moved in, have continued to smile and wave and make small talk about the weather when we're out in our yards or taking the baby and dog for a walk.  There are also a couple other non-Mormon neighbors on the block, so we're not the only ones.  Given that we live within one block of two LDS churches, it's unusual that there are several of us in the area.

The highlight of the BBQ was getting to reconnect with a couple of old friends from grade school that I haven't seen since I was 13 years old.  I grew up in a neighborhood close by and went to the schools in our current neighborhood.  There are several families that still live there from when I was a kid, and their grown children came out for the party as well.  I found myself sitting around with these old friends, now women with families, reminiscing about our childhood and giggling about rumors of the boys we used to like and how some of the popular girls are now fat (I was always chubby, so I haven't changed much).  It amazes me how we all turned out.  One of them is a stay-at-home-mom with four kids and looking forward to having two or three more.  The other has two bi-racial boys with different fathers and only sees her current husband on the weekends because he works out of state.  Another is a recovering meth-addict and single mom.  My favorite quote from the evening "Oh yea, I remember your house had that huge painting of a naked lady" (my parents were hippie / artists who loved nudes.  Had them all over our house.  This was a point of much embarassment for me during my childhood, though now, I'm wishing I still had the nekkid lady painting, it would look fantastic in my bedroom.)

I enjoyed visiting with the other neighbors as well. Since I've become a mother myself, I find it surprisingly easy to hold long detailed conversations about breast feeding, episiotomies and funny poop stories.

In the end, the BBQ was a great sucess and I am very glad I skipped out on the soccer game to go. I made some new friends, and reconnected with old ones.  The only downside is that I think I've tapped out my social reserve and I'll be avoiding any future get togethers for at least another six months or so until I fully recover from all the socializing I did this weekend.

Speedy

Here he is demonstrating two of his tricks.  Speed crawling and standing up.

Download alex_9_months_001.mov

The big decision

"I'm going to do it"
"I think you should"
"Really, because I want to do it"
"Then do it"
"Are you sure?"
"Yep"
"Maybe I shouldn't"
"Do whatever you want"
"Then I'll do it"
"Ok"
"Are you sure I should do it?"
"Yes, I'm sure"
"You're just saying that because you don't think I'll do it"
"No I'm not"
"'cause I am. I'm going to do it"
"Do it"
"I don't know, should I really do it?"
"Just do it already"
"Ok, I'll do it...maybe"

...to be continued

Five reasons I can't take a conference call from home without a babysitter

1) eebee baby is only entertaining for 15 minutes

2) Alex likes to bang on the glass door at Midnight and scream.  Loud.

3) Mistakenly thinking I'd muted the phone, I said to Alex, "Did you just poopie?"

4) After making absolutely certain I've muted the phone, I promptly forget and launch into a 10 minute explaination of my progress on the project, which I have to repeat when I finally realize no one heard me.

5) Even though Alex is no longer watching eebee baby, I keep singing the theme song (again, forgetting to mute the phone) "eebee eebee eebee eebee baby.  eebee eebee eebee I love you..."

Breaking News!

Well, we may have Alex's first official word, and guess what?  It's Mama!  WOO HOO!!

Now, Alex has been saying "Daddy" and "Dada" for quite a while now.  But he's never really associated the word with John, he just calls everything "Dada".  He'll sit on the floor playing with his toys saying "dadadadadada" for hours.  So there have been times that he's called John Dada or Daddy, but it was never really clear that he knew what he was saying.

A couple of days ago, Alex was on the bed with John and I was getting ready in the bathroom.  Alex crawled to the foot of the bed and said, clear as day "MAMA!"  Both John and I figured it was a fluke, but last night, I left Alex upstairs with John while I went downstairs to switch the laundry and Alex was standing at the baby gate and yelled "MAMA!"  The rest of the evening and this morning, whenever Alex wanted me, he'd say "Mama". 

John, who is the judge and jury determining Alex's first words (because I'm inclined to believe "FFfffsssssbababappppsptttt" is actually Alex saying "Five more banana crunchies please") has declared Alex's first official word to be "Mama"  and I have to tell you, my heart is so full and big right now there's a visible bulge in my chest.

Ridiculous amounts of cuteness

"Monkey?  Where?"

"I have the bestest Daddy ever!"

I'm torn.  Who's cuter? Auntie or Nephew?

Unexpected side effects from breastfeeding

"Are you cold?"

"No"

"Are you sure? You look like you're cold."

"Oh that.  Apparently, they always look like that now."