This is a hard place to be. I don't like to complain, yeah I do, I just thought I'd say that so I didn't sound like the bitch and moan artist I really am.
Let's do the good new first and then that way if you want to quit reading, at least you got the good stuff. I'm alive. I can still get myself around, most of the time. I have my family close by. I have just about everything I could possibly want.....well that's a bit much, but I have most of what I need. There ya go. I am grateful for being who I am, where I am, how I am and how I can love other people. I am grateful that most of the time my sense of humor and smart aleck nature get me by.
The grandkids and daughter are making progress in their counseling. The flip side of counseling....if you haven't ever been good to yourself and gone....is that sometimes like a rubber band, if you stretch one way (growth, positive) then you snap back (processing and acting out, negative). Well our rubber bands are popping like mad. Good/Bad. Uncomforable sometimes but well worth the effort. Yeah our team.
Sweet Man has had a lot of interviews for jobs. Keep you fingers crossed, hell cross your eyes, legs whatever you can.
I got some of my captured mermaids listed on Etsy. http://omalinda.etsy.com/ Got some stuff listed for Ebay which will begin on Wednesday.
All good stuff.
Willow started another series or clusters of seizures. These are different. She now walks "dumb footed". That means she hits the top of her front feet on the ground before she flips it and hits the pads. Her personality is changing with everyone of these gawd awful things. It is taking longer for her to recognize us. These are all indicators of a brain disorder.
The answer may be closer than I want it to be. I clean up oceans of pee every morning from the tile floor, have cleaned the carpet in the computer room too many times to be good for the carpet, me or the wood floor underneath. She is huge, I can't move her or comfort her by getting down on the floor anymore. And she demanding (you should hear her talk to me all growly and vocal and addicted to her meds). Honest, she can tell time now and let's you know when it is time for her next dose. But she is still my baby dog and I love my furry baby with all my heart.
I had to put down a perfectly healthy male St. Bernard less than 2 years ago because he was aggresive to a nut case who screamed when she saw him and he bit her out of protection for me and fright on his part. He and Willow were like fric and frac. I still can't look at pictures of my Murphy because I feel so incredibly guilty and sad. And now???? Again???? Really?????
I don't have any right to bitch when there are those of you out there who have lost parents, friends, mobility, jobs, housing but I am so not able to make the decision I know is coming and just had to vent. Forgive my self centered rant. Grant me just a bit of slack in the rope I need to hang myself.