3W+4D

I think I’m going to temporarily wrap up this section for a couple of weeks.

I’m hoping that by moving on to something else, crazy things will stop happening.

*all my fingers are crossed*

But before I go, I have to share a couple of things.

First, remember when I was afraid that my dog would like my family better? One of those irrational fears I had before surgery? Well, it happened. It had been teetering on the edge ever since surgery. I couldn’t walk around the house, carry her in my arms, let her sleep on my shoulder while I drank coffee. All of that stopped. It had to.

My husband has fed her, played with her, and basically taken care of her. So what happens at night? She wants to lick his face and then go to sleep next to him. Logically, it makes sense.

At first, I told him he had to get me another dog since he “stole” mine. He laughed. Then, he picked her up and laid her next to me. She moved. To be next to him.

*sigh*

Today, I have launched, Operation Get My Dog Back. Since I am feeling better, I have spoiled her with hugs, kisses and treats. It’s actually going pretty good. She took her morning nap next to me in bed.

Success!

The second thing I want to share is about the nurse who told me to “suck it up.” Again. After thinking things over yesterday, and overthinking them some more, I came to a conclusion. This is my life, and if I want things to go better, I need to make them better!

I made some notes about key points I wanted to get across about our conversation. And then I called her. As usual, I got her answering machine, and left a message.

I told her I may have rambled in my first message and I wanted to clarify some things. I let her know I had been told to call her to keep her updated, especially if the medicine wasn’t working. I told her I didn’t appreciate being talked down to as if I was a child or druggie. I am neither.

I told her I thought that we were in this process together, trying to help me recover from surgery. Apparently, that is not the case. I was only trying to keep her informed, as I was told to do, but I will no longer be doing that.

I had wanted someone to stand up for me and yell at her. Or yell at her superiors. Something! Because this is not the first time she has talked down to me. In the end, I had to stand up for myself.

Surprisingly, it worked. She called back and apologized.

Missy for the win!