“Stress is nothing more than a socially acceptable form of mental illness.” ― Richard Carlson
I took my 10 year old Husky/Shepherd mix, Bronco, to the vet last Thursday for a dental cleaning/surgery. He did great. His nickname is the grumpy old man because he would have to go out back and be muzzled whenever I would take him to the vet…such a goof. He is always sweet and loving at home. He had two badly infected back molars and a third had a huge cavity.
I picked him up around 4:30 Thursday. The techs said he was sweet and didn’t even need to be muzzled or anything! He was wonderful and sweet! They got to see OUR Bronco. He was happy and alert as I drove home, albeit in a bit of pain.
That night, he seemed ‘off’. I had to force his meds down (antibiotics and pain killer). He wouldn’t take a treat – but hey, he did JUST have three big teeth out.
By 3 am I was calling the emergency line and my vets cell phone. No one answered. I left 4 messages – two on each phone. Bronco’s belly was rock hard and huge, he vomited fluid and white foam.
By 5:45 the vet called – upset that she had missed my call, we rushed Bronco in. He couldn’t walk by this time. We got him up on the x-ray table, the vet snapped two x-rays. His heart looked amazing, his belly…
By 6:30 by big baby boy was dead. It was too late. The vet didn’t even have time to give him anything. He died right on the x-ray table.
My vet is wonderful. She’s doing a post-mortem to find out what happened and hopefully prevent someone else from losing their pet.
We drove over 9 hours up north and back home later that day to see my 98 year old grandmother (mémère). She looks amazing. But she is 98. Her hearing is going, her eyes too. She now needs a cane to walk.
My bearded dragon Evee is still struggling with her jaw issues.
My husband has been diagnosed Parkinson’s (he’s 45).
I had to put down my 10 year old Pompoo little baby first week of June due to his health and increased aggression.
I lost my 18 year old cat just a few months before.
My MS symptoms have been flaring off and on.
I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.
I wake up in the morning – breathless. It’s as though someone has been punching me in the stomach, I can’t breath.
I try to practice my breathing techniques and gratitude. We were able to afford a new van when ours broke a few weeks ago (well, sort of). I have three amazing, healthy, beautiful children. We have a home. I can pay our bills.
I’m so broken.
21 Pilots – Stressed Out