Monday, October 10, 2011


I was having a really shitty day yesterday, the culmination of a really shitty week.

Monday I went to the doctor to get a fill (lap band), and learned I'd gained a couple of pounds. So they gave me a pretty good fill.

My husband went out of town Tuesday, thank goodness.  I also puked a lot on  Tuesday. So Wednesday I stayed home to puke in privacy. And also to take care of my seriously ill dog, who has chronic kidney failure.

I went to work Thursday morning until I puked 3 times in my trash can at my desk because I didn't have time to run down the hall to the bathroom. Then I went back home.

I stayed home Friday.

Saturday I had a hair appointment, and thank goodness I made it through without getting sick. And I didn't vomit anymore Saturday or Sunday, although I continued to have, shall we say, digestive problems throughout the weekend.

I woke up Sunday to the beautiful sound and smell of pouring rain. And I was happy. However, all of my cooler weather shoes, my boots, and my wellies were at the house in a couple of huge contractor plastic bags. All I had at the apartment, aside from trainers, were flipflops and 3 pairs of cheap suedeish material flats. My husband has said that we're not to remove anything from the house until we get the money for the contents. So I thought I'd just go buy a pair of ankle boots or something--couldn't buy wellies because I have fat calves. They're shaped nicely and all, but they're large. I have to buy boots that are higher than ankle height online because I have to order them from specialty shops. 

I went to Marshall's, and all of the ankle boots were either impractical (too high heeled or else made of suede), too ugly (there was one super cute pair but it didn't have any heel which made it look extremely stupid on my feet), or too expensive ($99.99, which in the greater scope of things isn't all that much, but was ridiculous when I have plenty of boots at home). So I called my husband and he finally agreed to let me go get my shoes.

I went to the house and started bawling as soon as I walked in the front door. It smells musty, and there's stuff strewn from one end of the house to the other. I got the 2 bags with my shoes and boots (and some handbags) and left. Then I decided to go to the video shop to get a copy of a movie I'd read about online (Agora--it looks really good). My route to the video shop passes by the stake center, which I flipped off 3 times as I drove past.

I didn't and do not want any contact with the church. But my husband still does. He called the bishop the day after our house burned down to tell him.  Not one person has contacted him. We've had more compassion from perfect strangers and co-workers than he got from teh mormons.  So much for their claims to be service oriented.  We paid the kids (early 20's, I guess) next door to rip out the shed in our back yard and haul ut and the contents off to the dump.

My dog is still very sick, and I'll be surprised if he lasts much longer. He won't eat anything. I've been force-feeding him Ensure, but my husband called me this morning to tell me to quit giving him the Ensure because it has too many vitamins. But if I can't give him that, he's just gonna die because he will not eat. I've tried everything. He just turns up his nose at it. Stuff he'd have been begging for he'll sit there and turn his head every way to avoid even having to look at it. He ate 2 tablespoons of baby food one night, but then when I offered him some more the next day he refused to eat it. I tried giving it to him in the syringe, the way I do the Ensure, but he just blew it back out of his mouth all over the blanket.

My husband's hoping to come back home tonight. I alternate between hoping he makes it home and hoping he stays out there another day or two. My dog seemed a little better this morning, and he did, with great resistance, drink quite a bit of ensure. Hubby told me to go get a pot roast from the market, and shred that up and see if he'll eat it. He won't, but I'll try.

So this last week has just been a real shitfest. If it weren't for my friends and family, I'd be ready to run away right about now. Let me rephrase that. I'm about ready to run away. The only reason I don't is because of my friends and family.

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