Anterior Cruciate Ligament

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Reggi goes in for surgery next Wednesday - she tore her ACL!

She was so good at the vet today. She still acts pretty timid but not like she used to. They even had an emergency while we were there - a very distraught man called ahead that something was wrong with his dog. When he arrived he ran into the office asking someone to please help him because his dog was having seizures. One of the vets went out, very calmly, and the guy and his friend and the vet carried a golden retriever in to one of the back rooms, hammocked in a sheet. I couldn't see, hear or know anything, which was fine with me because I was afraid it was going to be bad and then I'd cry. Or the owners would cry which would make me cry. It was mostly invisible to us, which is just how I like my emergencies.

I love this place we go to, Walworth Animal Hospital. All the vets are great. We had the one male vet today and he's always so upbeat and friendly. He calls Reggi, "Kid". He probably calls all animals Kid but it's cute. He explained everything thoroughly, using a model of a dog's knee, pulled out a book to show us pictures. By us I mean Simon and me. We took two cars because Simon had to leave for work while I was still paying but he's very helpful to have along because he lifts Reggi up on the table (and in and out of the car, with her bum leg). He also takes her out to the car while I'm paying so I don't have to keep an eye on her (on the leash) with the other animals and pay and talk. I'm the queen of multi-tasking but not at the vet's. I also wanted Simon along this time in case there was stuff to remember that the vet said. I guess I was afraid I'd be distraught if there was bad news, but it wasn't really bad news, it was just news.

So this isn't uncommon, it can happen when they are just doing their normal dog thing. Beagles are not prone to it. They don't repair the torn ACL, they do this wiring thing with really strong fishing line type stuff that will serve the same purpose. The vet who will do the surgery has done three of these this week. Reggi will be fine.

She'll have to stay overnight which I'm not happy about, only because it makes her so sad. We boarded her at this place for 4 days once and she was so heartbroken while we were gone, she wouldn't eat. She cried a lot, even more so when we picked her up. It tore me, Steve and Simon up to learn that. She was a pitiful pup. Hopefully next week she'll be so doped up she won't care. It has to be done. She'll be fine.

So check this out. The vet told me it might be about $1000 for this surgery, maybe less. I didn't bat an eye and said, "Great, let's get it scheduled." He left the room to get his schedule book and other things Reggi was there for today. Simon said to me, "Mom! You're going to pay $1000 to get Reggi fixed?"

I said, "Yeah, why?"

Simon: "You freak at spending $10 at McDonald's."

Stefani: "This is Reggi."

Simon: "Where are you going to get the money? I can't believe you're not freaking out."

Stefani: "This is Reggi."

Simon: "$1000?"

Stefani: "There is some number that's not okay, but I can't imagine what that would be. This is Reggi."

It's not that he thought $1000 was a lot of money, he just couldn't believe my calm reaction because it's true, I'm usually quite freakish about spending money. But I've already given this subject a lot of thought since we've had Reggi and the two cats. We love these guys to pieces. There is some number and some quality of life issue ratio but I don't think I'll know that until I get to it. Hope I never do.

In fact, here's something I realized just a few weeks ago and it kind of creeped me out. It's not really a bad thing though, just kind of pathetic in theory. The reality is fine. Steve and I have been together for 13 years. We have no kids together. We don't parent each other's kid. We're almost empty nesters. You see this coming, don't you - or you've known it for a long time, haven't you? We love these pets together like they are our kids. I've always known we're both equally nauseatingly goofy about them, which is nice, the equal part. I just didn't realize why until recently.

So that's Reggi's story.

My story is - duh - it's my "hormonal" week. And I also realized this morning that I forgot to take my Effexor yesterday, something I think I've only done one other time. That explains my why I am not handling this stress well. I had a huge crying jag this morning.

I dreamed about my Marine nephew Nick coming home next week before he ships out overseas. That part is true - but in my dream, Simon and Paul go to the airport to pick up Nick - and when they walk into this restaurant where Gretchen and I are waiting, all three boys are young. Nick is 12, Simon is 10 and Paul is 9. You don't have to be Kreskin to see that what this is about. In reality Paul turned 17 on Wednesday, Simon will be 19 in November which in my mind keeps getting rounded up to 20 somehow - maybe because I'm 50 and it's another round number. And most importantly Nick is too young to fight in a real live war. Yeah. Everyone is.

I remembered all this in the shower this morning and burst into tears. I worry about Nick; I worry about Gretchen worrying about Nick. I'm sick of feeling sooo many feelings this week. But I know crying is good so I really pushed to get it all out. I sobbed. I did that I-need-a-hug-from-my-mom cry.

Just a short while later I make this discovery that I forgot the Effexor and my hormones are wacked out this week. Whew! That means I'll feel great again on Saturday, if history is any indicator. Because really, no point in getting all knotted up over something happening to Nick. He'll be fine. And stressed about work? Pulleeeease! It's just work - it don't mean squat in the big scheme of things.

So see? I'm pretty much better already. I told Steve I've always had a 3-day tolerance for anything negative - from a cold to a broken heart, whatever. By day 3 I'm bored with my own behavior and am ready to move on.

Next entry - I'm planning on getting back to craft talk. Paper! Now that's a real mood enhancer!

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