7 days of literal no sleep is not a recommendation I would ever have for anyone. On the third night I composed many songs but only in my head, this is the only one I captured.
It was a trip but also not something I want to be stuck in. On Tuesday last week at my ostomy appointment I was clocked at a fever of 102 and was sent to the ER. It's really challenging for me to be in the Emergency Room because the doctors always think they are catching something new, ha! I explain I am complicated but no one believes me until the results get in. They didn't find an infection and I was sent home.
Next day my oncologist tells me that they have not ruled out sepsis, that they were waiting for a blood culture by the next day (the day I was supposed to go to the beach.) "You have lived for 4 years with this, don't be stupid and die from something we can fix" I got the point but my body and all of the fuckery was making me a little crazy and I still couldn't sleep.
I got a call from my clinical trial nurse who stated my blood and urine cultures were not full of sepsis and I was cleared for the beach, except....My dog Cooper, my last pug standing was dying. My buddy who kept vigil over my body after Fiona passed was preparing to leave his almost 17 year old decrepit, beat up form....Until he wasn't. Cooper seemed to be doing the death breathing, sinking into his body and then pow! Cooper jumped out of the bed shaking and swallowing air, at times seeming kinda normal but falling over...He wasn't right but was he ready? Such a hard decision.
Years ago I found a vet who could work with my feisty asshole of an Ewok presenting dog and we wanted her to just confirm that we were doing the right thing. She confirmed it. Cooper tried one last time to bite her, she smiled, my vet is so kind and loves even the shit heads. She sedated him before the first injection and we told stories of our Coop. The rest was easy, I guess. I knew my Cooper was physically ready to go but that dog was like a honey badger and a slowing down Energizer bunny combined, Cooper just didn't give a fuck and he would have kept going until he couldn't. We still are asking ourselves if we did the right thing.
We are now at the beach and I actually slept a lot finally, I am working my way out of the sludge and sadness. It's going to take a bit to fully recover but I feel a little better as I see the sunshine and hear the happy birds chirping away. I will miss my last pug standing.
Until next time ❤️