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Bad news comes in threes
By ella | November 26, 2006
Last weekend Matthew received a phone call from his family, one of those phone calls which starts with ‘you’d better sit down, I’ve got bad news’. We are all still reeling from the call. He has spent this weekend visiting his family. It feels like he has been away every weekend for about two months and I’m feeling the fallout.
On Monday I took Ben to the hospital for further tests because the first round of results were inconclusive. More needles. Not much fun for either of us. He is also suffering a nasty stomach bug which has given him diarrhoea. The upside of this is that his bowel movements are at last normal!
On Tuesday my beloved springer spaniel Brin - the sh*t eating, wee drinking one - got up suddenly off the stairs, clearly unwell, with a stomach the size of a balloon. I rushed her to the vet, as much as you can rush anywhere when three children are in the middle of their supper and need a military operation to get them ready for even the shortest trip anywhere - where she had the fluid removed overnight and they investigated the cause. Apart from my obvious concern for her, I was also concerned that I would miss the inaugural meeting of our book club which had already been cancelled twice and would be going ahead no matter what and bugger if I was going to miss a much anticipated glass of wine and a good night out. So I made my mercy dash, rushed back, put the boys to bed, fed the baby to sleep, rocked him to a deep slumber and laid him down without breathing (me, not him) lest I woke him. Already late, I looked at my dog-hair covered clothes in despair, cursed the vet that made me lift the dog onto the table despite her obviously painful stomach and covering me in hairs, grabbed my bag and left. For two glorious hours I was able to forget about all these problems and enjoy some intelligent, adult conversation.
Since the dog got home she has been almost totally incontinent so the last few days have been spent washing dog beds - she likes to use all four dog beds but that has had to stop - preparing special hepatic food (she has advanced liver disease), mopping urine-covered floors and washing the dog repeatedly.
I feel exhausted, physically and emotionally. I need a break. I’d opt for an empty house, a bed and a great book but then I’m easily pleased.
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Categories: All Gone Wrong, Dog Days
6 Comments
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Just what you need - a fourth baby! The gods are once again being mean to you!! Why, Ella why? You deserve a break!!
oh, ugh, that just all sounds so miserable. I’m sorry…
Poor thing- that sounds awful!
Only the strongest people are tested in this way. Please know you’re not alone: we’re all thinking of you and hoping this cluster of sadness and stress eases off soon.
Oh, what a trial. But as you say, they come in threes. Not fours or fives or sixes so you are due for a bout of good news for a good long time.