Have you ever read that book? I did when I was younger. Not sure what made his day so bad, but I do know what my week so bad. Yes, this will be a poor me blog. To fully understand what I am talking about below here is a quick update on what has been going on. My husband and I foster rescued Great Danes. We have one of our own and then a foster dog. Our last foster dog came to us with an old injury, where he "impaled himself on a stick". His owners had the stick removed and him sown up. After we got him he went through 2 more surgeries to try to correct the area that kept swelling and busting open. Finally we thought it was fixed and he was adopted only to find out that it wasn't totally fixed. 12 days after being adopted the family turned him back over to rescue b/c they weren't prepared to deal with another surgery for the dog. He had major surgery with a foot long scar and two drainage tubes that leaked bloody fluid all over my house. The surgery was on Thursday and below starts with the following Monday.
Monday: Not too eventful. Buddy was still bleeding all over the place. I was doing several loads of laundry a day to clean the blankets he was bleeding on. My mom was available to watch him that day while I was in training down in norfolk to become a certified Instructor in CPR/First Aid/AED. (the class sucked and was boring and taught by two arrogant men)
Tuesday: Buddy got his drainage tubes out. Yay, no more blood all over the place. However, later on that night his leg was really swollen. I actually slept pretty good this night.
Wednesday: (this is when things got very bad) I wake up late, end up leaving late to go to work. Realize when I get in the car I am beyond empty on gas. I stop by the gas station to get just enough to get me to and from work. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I realize that my clothing choice that morning was not good (a flowy skirt on a breezy day). I basically flash the entire Construction community of Chesapeake. There I am holding my skirt with one hand, my check card is in my mouth, my keys are hooked around my pinky and I'm trying to pump gas. WhenI get to work I call the vet to tell them about the swollen leg on Buddy. Of course they want me to drop everything and miss more work to bring him in. I rush home change into shorts, b/c Lord knows I don't want to flash anymore people, grab Buddy and head to the vet. I get there right before he is supposed to go into surgery. He takes one look at Buddy and says a drainage tube must go back in him. Oh Boy! He wants me to leave him there. Of course I didn't bring my skirt with me, so I can't just head back to work. I must go home first. When I do go back to work after lunch, I bring the shorts with me and I am there for about an hour before they call me to come get him. I get there and for whatever stupid reason I don't put my shorts on. I go in and the doctor explains that the area of the inner thigh is hard to deal with b/c it is so close to Buddy's Penis and that when they wrap it they have to leave room for his penis. All the while he is pointing at his own penis, which of course I'm following his hand motions until I realize where they are headed. I am well aware of where the Penis is. Anyway, I get buddy and he won't walk on his newly wrapped leg, so the ver helps him out to my car. Once again, I am standing there with leash, purse and keys in hand and I'm opening the door when, whoosh, up goes my skirt. I'm frantically grabbing at it and avoiding eye contact with the vet. A lady inside must have seen b/c she came running out to help. I'm sure I was three shades of red. I struggle to get Buddy out of the car and into the house and then have an emotional breakdown. That night my husband and I sleep on the pull out sofa, aka the most uncomfortable bed ever, b/c Buddy can't make it up the stairs.
Thursday: Buddy finally peed (he hadn't gone in 24hrs). I had people lined up to be with him most of the day. I am totally exhausted at this point. Waking up to check on him and sleeping on the bad sofa bed is not going well for me. Unrelated to Buddy, I was at work and had to pee so bad. I went in the stall and sure enough after I started peeing I realized there was no TP. I politely asked the lady next to me if she would mind giving me some TP. All I heard back was silence except for the crinkle sound of the toilet seat protector she was sitting on. I ended up using a seat protector to wipe. I think I got a total of 2 hrs of sleep. I was up with the dogs way too much and became even more exhausted.
Friday: Buddy finally pooped (it had been 48hrs since the last bowel movement). Unfortunately it was when we weren't home and he did it in the crate. My house now smells like poo and I had to spend my lunch hour cleaning it out. Yippee! I feel so sorry for the poor dog. Tonight I am going to the Tides game with my husband and some friends (thanks Uncle Ray for free tickets). My dad is being oh so generous with his time and is watching the dogs. I get to go on a double date and be a normal 25 year old. YAY!!!
Plans for tomorrow: SLEEP!!!!! SLEEP!!!!! SLEEP!!!!! SLEEP!!!! Maybe I'll clean the house a little.
Summary of my week: Sick dog, blood splatter, no sleep, anatomy lesson 101-where the penis is, embarrassing moments, poop cleanup duties, total exhaustion
P.S. please let me know if you find a picture of my butt on the internet somewhere!
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