The Healing Process

It's been a tough week for us, from beginning to end. Having to put Charlie down left a hole in all our hearts. I received literally over a hundred condolences from here, from back home to from across the pond. Anyone who knows me at all knows how much our pups mean to us.

I've had to stop myself more than once from filling up three bowls of food instead of two. I still look directly at the love seat when coming home from work, expecting to see Charlie sprawled out as soon as I walk through the door.

Both our other dogs have paced the house and yard, sniffing around every spot where ole Chas hung out.

People at work have been very nice and given me many hugs and condolences as well.



By mid week, things changed again.

My brother had major surgery scheduled on his ankle. It had been hurting him for quite a while and ended up being from an old fracture when he was a teenager. They had to basically saw his ankle in two, make repairs and reattach it. Massey spent the night at his house the night before and took him to the hospital in the early morning hours of Wednesday. A two hour surgery turned into four and makes you think about a lot. Anesthesia is always risky, along with complications after. We were much relieved to finally get the call that he was out of surgery and in recovery.

These two are all that's left of my immediate family and both mean the world to me. We are different yet also very similar. We all love our pups and all love each other.

It made me realize that while losing Charlie was a huge heartache, losing one of my sibs would be a devastation I'm not sure I could recover from.

He had a lot of pain after the surgery and if anyone knows my brother, knows he isn't one to complain or have to rely on others.

He was a zombie for twenty four hours, with his worried pups by his side, pacing back and forth.

Day two brought the real pain, after the anesthesia had worn off and the healing began. When you get our age (and he is three years older than me) healing is never as easy as it was when you were a kid.

Massey has been an excellent Florence Nightingale to her uncle. She doesn't get on his nerves the way I do so I let her take the reigns.

Although I am  a pretty good Docta.

                         My possum innards poultice is legendary in Bugtussle and Hooterville.


Day three of his recovery his next door neighbor and close friend got married at the park in their neighborhood, right around the corner. My brother lives in a nature preserve and is an absolutely beautiful place to live or visit.

Chris had been planning on delivering the groom to the ceremony in his boat via the dock at the park but pain just didn't cooperate. His friend drove the boat over for him and did the honors.

                                                               It was still pretty cool.

                                      Once the groom arrived, the bride came down the aisle.

                              It's been a week of loss, worry, healing and even  a new beginning.


Seems in a few short days I've been through the circle of life...literally. Tim had to leave after the ceremony, one of his drivers at work had been in an accident. Chris simply couldn't make it because of his pain, but the groom totally understood.

No worries, Massey and I ate and drank and had a grand ole time. Afterwards we stopped by my brother's house and checked on him. He was feeling better and had two of his friends visiting him.


                               In the grand scheme of things I got pretty lucky this week.

I had to lose someone dear to me but was able to give him release from a painful life. My brother survived surgery is on the mend. We got to celebrate friends starting a new life together.


                                       When it all goes crazy, just remember I love you.

Till next time...COTTON

Slowly But Surely

WOW!

 Number one, how do battered women hide their scars long enough for them to heal? And number two, boxing should be outlawed.

This is almost two weeks later AND with make up. I suppose it's a lot better than the first picture...

Although I looked beat up , my face was so swollen I looked at least ten pounds heavier (always look for the bright side) and that's a good thing.

The spins have finally pretty much gone away along with the dizzy feeling but find it hard to concentrate sometimes.

I was at work last night standing by the service bar. It was late and the owner was watching boxing on the big screen. Little Asian guy versus tall lanky Black dude. I would have bet on the tall guy thinking he had more reach. Third round and the little Asian hit him square in the jaw. The black dude hit the mat like I hit the kitchen floor. You could tell from his eyes he wasn't getting up anytime soon. (even the announcer said so)

It almost made me sick to think people do this for a living. My former brother in law started boxing when he was five and a Golden Gloves Champ by the age of seventeen. He died from Alzheimer's by the time he was in his early fifties. You can't tell me all those blows to his head helped.

I've been pretty lucky over the years. Ear infections, sinus infections, Strep throat...just the usual illnesses.

These past few years I've suffered from old waitress pain. Bad knees, bum shoulders and aching back. Nothing a hot bath or beer or two couldn't temporarily fix.

This knock to the noggin has thrown me for a loop. I used to come home from work and stay up til two in the morning putzing around the house or blogging. I'd wake up around nine and feel fine.

Since my head injury I can't wait to get home and simply go horizontal.

My brother in law laughed at me when I told him I had consulted a retired professional wrestler at work about my concussion. He comes in several times a week with his wife and is one of our regulars. I figured he knew as much about concussions as anybody...and seems he did.

He told me I'd be tired and sometimes confused, even after the dizzy spells started to subside for up to a month or more. He told me I may have migraines later on. So far his diagnosis has been Spot On.

Not looking forward to a migraine but at least feel like I'll live now.

It reminds me of when my daughter was about four and Santa brought her a medical kit for Christmas. She was all excited and wanted to use it so I volunteered as a patient. I lay on the couch as she crammed the plastic thermometer in my mouth and gave me a fake shot in the arm. She asked me how I felt to which I replied "Not so good Doctor. Will I live?"

She looked me straight in the eye as she took my pulse and solemnly said "Yes, you will live. You will live with your family."

I guess my daughter AND the former wrestler were right.

Patience isn't my forte but guess it needs to be for a while.

I actually cooked dinner tonight, something I haven't done since my fall.

As The Beatles sang, "It's getting better all the time."

Til next time...COTTON