The Old Man is doing well. I am sure that he is sore and very tired. Healing is hard work! His incision is long, but seriously - what they took out of him was HUGE (maybe comparable to the size of two softballs, and he is not a large dog). But he looks happy to be home. He's eating, drinking, using the bathroom (though it looks like it pains him with the incision, but he's doing it) and even chewing a bone. But mostly he's napping, which is great because he needs his rest.
I really believe that the timing of his surgery couldn't have been more perfect. By yesterday, there was no longer a doubt in my mind that something more than Myositis was getting him down. I called the clinic at 7, they said to have him there at 8, and the surgery was done and over with around 9. Dr. Long was willing to work on him right then and I very much appreciate that. I am convinced that him not scheduling us some other time for surgery is a big part of why my Scoot is still here.
Since Scooter's home I assume that I will sleep tonight. For now I think I'm going to get started on some housework. Since my boy wasn't doing well and I had a test coming up I mostly felt petrified, but I did manage to study a bit (still don't know how that test went, but hopefully I will soon). But yeah, that's all. Everything else was just not important. Thankfully, I'm off work at SCM this week, so I'm going to be here to keep a close eye on my man. Like I said, great timing!
So yeah - vacation started out in a panic, but I'm hoping that my buddy has a smooth and speedy recovery and that I can also get some rest. This summer semester hasn't been nearly as bad as last semester was, but it has been far from easy. At this point I feel like I am just tripping and stumbling through my life and barely making it from one thing to another. That is not a great feeling, but barely making it is still making it, I suppose.
Thank you to everyone who wrote to me while I was going through this. I hit a point where I was not ok. It really screws with my head when my life hurts so bad, yet I can still think about it and know that so many would be lucky to be us and have what we have. There is just no way for me to reconcile that. Not to sound morbid, but I think about death a lot these days - especially as my dogs age. I know that the thought of an afterlife or reincarnation comforts a lot of people, but it haunts me. Shaun had to come over and assure me that once I died I was dead - never to return. That sounds like the definition of true peace to me. Thankfully, I'm not too big on making decisions that I can't change my mind about, so... I have no tattoos and I'm still here. 😛 Anyway, thank you for being a friend. ❤