So this time was going to be different. Every time I say I'm going to (somehow, magically) reduce stress while I'm on the medical weight loss plan (from hell).
The first thing that happened was we got a call from our vet, telling us our elderly and beloved Maggie (Labrador retriever) has severe anemia. The doctor wanted to do tons of expensive tests, that may accomplish nothing in the long run. A neighbor friend suggested we view it as a hospice situation and just make Maggie comfortable, and avoid all the further vet stuff (She's terrified of the vet, plus we don't have the discretionary income for big expensive tests). Good advice, I suppose, but it was enough to make me weepy and all the more worried. (Happily, she's been improving, more frisky and getting up way more since it was discovered she had an ear infection and we've been treating it; I don't know if it's connected to the anemia, but who knows? We're going to get her ear re-checked in two weeks with another vet and get a second opinion. But her increased vigor has done us all good!)
The next thing that happened was I got a call from a dear friend, who's been very ill, telling me she was admitted to the hospital with complications from her (serious) illness. (Happily, I saw her again at the hospital tonight and she's doing hugely better.)
Ok, super. So, hormoned-up, exhausted, in pain (detox from sugar), and starving, I was suddenly terrified of losing two in my life I love so much. Not cool! And no, I can't tell you how I managed to not abort the mission and dive headlong into a vat of ice cream followed by an alcohol chaser. I just didn't. Not that I didn't want to.
It reminds me of a scene from a very sweet movie, Letters to Juliet. I'm paraphrasing here, but at the end, the grandma finds her long lost love, 50 years later, and they get together. Her grandson said something like, Great! You get your happy ending without all the messy bits in between. She looked at him and said something like, Life IS the messy bits.
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