But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Because We are Sick I hate it. Watching the clock. Another sleepless night. Filled with darkness and food. At 7:30am I had to drop my dog off at the pet hospital to have a massive growth removed from his gums, and some teeth pulled. He is a miniature dachsund, and never has he spent one night away from home, or even a few hours without someone he knows. Before we left he hid from me under my brother's blankets. He never hides from me. I felt terrible. He knew something was wrong. I wrapped him up in the Sponge Bob fleece blanket that he curls up under on my bed. He shook the whole way to the hospital, and even harder inside. He tried not to cry, but a few escaped his lips. I wanted to cry as well, imagining a knife being dug around his gums, him unconcious, and those little teeth pulled out of that tiny body. He was so depressed the week before the surgery. I called the animal hospital at 4:00pm to see how he was doing. The doctor said the surgery was very hard. That he would have to spend the night. That the growth most definentilly had to be biopsied, because it looked to be something more... And I asked what. "It could be cancer of the gums, or of the bone. If it is, we will have to consider other options." "What does 'other options' mean?" "Well, we could go on all day about that," says the doctor. "Yes, but my family keeps on talking about putting him to sleep. They discussed it all over Christmas, and I spent the entire Christmas crying." "It made you that upset huh," says the doctor, "Well, you may have to consider that as a possibility in the near future. But wait until the biopsy comes back. It will take five to seven days, I will call you as soon as I know." And how am I supposed to deal with all this? I love my dog. He is my baby. He saved my life when I was so sick. And in this house he is my only friend 100% of the time. So I do the one thing I know how to. We go to K-Mart, and I load up the cart with junk food. More than I have in a long time. A big box of Fudge Rounds, another of Nutty Buddies, two huge bags of Milky Ways and Butterfingers.... And then I wonder why... She has tried to be so kind to me today, at least about my dog. Usually she complains about the money on him, but today she refrained.... mostly. And she took me shopping. I bought five shirts and two sweaters, and a purse I have been wanting for a very long time. And I wanted that pink purse, shaped like a corset so bad, oddly enough. And my mom said, "You want it so bad? Get it." And the saleslady said, "Ooh, Get it while mom is feeling generous!" And that made me feel so terrible. Because I look much younger than I am. And it shows what a dependent I am. Most think I look 15, 16 at the most. Maybe it is a good thing, considering how long it will take me to get up on my feet and become something if I survive that long... And in response to all the guestbook entries, thank you. I know dialysis would be terrible. It frightens me beyond belief. So much I want to scratch my skin off, scream, cry... Consider going back into treatment even, but then I look in the mirror... And it shatters like my soul and my thoughts... 4:11 a.m. - 2004-02-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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