Ten weeks is without question the longest time the blog has ever been silent. It's not because I have had nothing to say, but because everything I've had to say has bottled up in a mass of confusion, internal shouting, and ugliness.
It's taken a while to get things in my head to quiet down enough to where I don't lose arguments with myself, know what I mean?
It's been a long, tough year, and I've been waiting for any sign, however small, that things could turn for the better.
Three days ago I noticed that Simon, my sweet old dog, was more winded than usual walking. Then next day he threw up a couple of times. Then he threw up some more, and by Saturday he was throwing up stuff he hadn't even eaten yet.
We're not floating in cash right now. My last annual review resulted in a pay cut (for the fifth consecutive year). I'm sitting on the last $500 of Babygirl's hospital bills from the spring plus a few hundred from my colonoscopy during the summer, and for God alone only knows what reason Hubby's last visit to the endocrinologist appears to not have been covered. And (in case you hadn't realized it) Christmas IS coming, and I just put on Thanksgiving dinner not once, but twice. Hiking into a Doggie Walk-In with a desperately ill elderly dog was a recipe for either emotional or financial disaster, if not both.
The vet, thank the Lord, was a practical young woman. She clearly couldn't say for sure what was wrong with him without testing, but agreed that giving a trial of IV fluids and anti-emetics was a reasonable and cost-effective thing to do, leaving open the option of the million-dollar workup if symptomatic treatment failed. It cost $134 and two hours of my Saturday. By this morning Simon was up and running (okay, okay, waddling. He's never run a day in his life) and is back entirely to normal.
I paid the vet, Babygirl's docs, my docs, and I'm going to fight the insurance company on Hubby's bill (I always do. It saves us thousands of dollars every year). Temporarily, at least, we are at break-even broke, which beats being behind.
And silly as it seems, the goofy snaggle-toothed grin that belongs to Simon is still smiling at me from across the room, and I feel better than I have in months.