Wednesday, April 04, 2007

My Dog Edison



Edison's vet is great. I totally love her. She cant tell me anything, but she tells me nothing knowledgeably and with great kindness. She called me at home, after hours to give me best/worst case scenarios and financial estimates. They have found nothing in the bones but Edison has an enlarged sub-lumbar lymphnode. This is not a common site for a tumor but is commonly cancer meaning the primary tumor is somewhere-else, about $800 dollars away. Best case scenario with aggressive treatment is 2-3mos, sometimes up to 2 or 3 years. We dont even have a guess for the cost of treatment yet.



I am totally ashamed of my priorities. None of this is my money. The entire wedding is being paid for by other people and even I dont have the power to rein in its momentum. I cant believe I even give a shit about ambient lighting or sunflowers.



This evening I thought I would take the time to write about what is going on with Edison because this is first of all my diary. So I was looking at old pictures and it started to really hit me. Like, catering is all business and flat tires are all business and taxes are all business and dog cancer is all business... something to be filed and paid for and it all goes away.



But my dog is sick. He is really really sick and I love him so so so so so so so so so so so much. And after looking at all these pictures I can see how gaunt and gray he has become. He is so tired and weak. Sometimes he stumbles. He is going to die and it really sucks.



Now he gets to sleep on the bed. I dont know if he is too hot or too cold so I try to cover him halfway. In the middle of the night, either because he is too hot or because he is too cold he jumps before I can wake up and lift him down so he stumbles and falls (heartbreaks) and goes off to some cooler or warmer spot.



Now I wish I hadnt fucked off so much in my life and had writ a fancy book and made a gazillion dollars so someone could tell me when Edison needs an aspirin, or how to make him most comfortable or when to call the doctor for his angel wings. But I just have to guess.

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s.o.s. send beaver puppets as soon as you are able

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