Really need a break

It's been bad lately. Like, really bad. As in, why am I even fighting anymore, bad.

Hot on the tails of losing Ron, I had a doctor's appointment with a new endocrinologist. I had thyroid cancer when I was 17 which resulted in a total thyroidectomy. It also destroyed my parathyroids, so I take a lot of medication to stay alive. If that was the worst of it, it wouldn't be such a huge deal. Unfortunately, my body seems to be fighting me at every step of the way. For years my levels have been off, and playing around with my medication to try to fix it (without knowing what the problem actually is) has caused havoc. The problem is that I haven't been able to find a decent doctor who is willing to listen to me and to try to figure out what's going on. They just want the easy fix- which just makes things worse for me.

This new doctor is no different. The only difference is that she increased my medication so drastically that it really angered and upset me, and set me on a quest to find out for myself what the problem could be. I found out that it's very likely my pituitary gland is on overdrive (a common issue that's fairly easy to fix by all reports), but the endocrinologist is uninterested in exploring that option, and so is my GP. It feels like I'm fighting for my life against a well armed enemy with nothing but a bowl of jello and a teaspoon. It's exhausting.

I've also begun homeschooling my son, and had a sudden realization that either he has learned nothing in his years of school or is so beyond lazy that I'm not sure I can pull him out of it. "Using the map, what was the most recent area settled?" I don't understand the question. ACK! Maybe try? And every subject is the same. I hear "I dunno" and see more shrugs every day than Macy's in Fall. And every time I try to ask for help, I'm totally shot down. "It'll come," "There's nothing you can do," "You should probably rethink your curriculum," "No idea, have you seen this picture of a chicken?" Really not helpful or encouraging.

I attempted to make a new doll, a little shelf sitter. Total failure. I mean, total! I had to hand sew the whole thing because I have no idea where my sewing machine is after the move, and even if I did, I have nowhere to set it up; so it took me way too long to sew the pieces together. And it didn't work. I can't get the pieces to fit. Chalk up another disaster.

That's all I feel like at the moment: a disaster.

I can't get any of my big plans to work. I can't get any of my small plans to work. All around me, I watch people succeeding. Some of them have worked long and hard, others seem to get success without effort. Me? Failure. Every fucking time.

I'm so tired of this. I have no idea how to keep fighting. I don't know if it's even worth it. But I don't really know how to give up either. I've already lost everything I can give up without dying. I'm just so angry now I can't even think.

Sad Face

Last Saturday, as Steve and I were about to climb into the spa for some relaxation time, there was a tiny squeaking cry under the back porch. Steve crouched down and saw the little orange face peeping back at him.

Seriously, how could I not fall in love?

We'd seen a little grey tabby cat going under the house, and had suspected that there may be kittens, which is why we didn't block it up yet. However, we hadn't seen her for a while. The day before, we saw a fox running down the road, and there was a lot of excited yipping overnight, which usually means the foxes or coyotes have found food. The fear is that the mama cat was on the menu.

I crouch down and called to the little orange face until he finally got close enough to grab. We went to the neighbors, asking if they knew of anyone with a grey tabby- maybe she was locked inside and they didn't know about the kittens? But no. The only cat she knew that matched that description was a stray that no one could get close to. So we had a new kitten! A half starved and very hungry kitten.

It was late, and in our little town, nothing is open late. He'd have to last through the night. We went first thing the next morning and got him some formula. He turned out to be a very good eater! And he seemed to perk up. He started playing, and was putting on weight. On Sunday, he weighed 6 and 5/8 ounces. By Wednesday, he weighed 7 and 1/2 ounces. Things were looking good. We named him Ron Weasley, after the character in Harry Potter.

He needed a bath. He was so infested with fleas, I was afraid he'd be anemic. It was stressful for him, but he got lots of love and came through feeling better for having less bugs on him.

I ordered a pet play pen so that he could have a safe area out in the living room with us, and slowly introduce him to Asha, our cat. Toby, one of the dogs, already seemed smitten with him, and Zack was curious. He was living in our bath tub, using the cat carrier for his den. I was really looking forward to having him out in the lounge where we could enjoy his company all the time.

Turns out, kitty kisses are a bit painful, but so worth it!

Thursday, things started to turn. He seemed really sleepy and didn't play as much as he had been. Friday morning was worse. He didn't try to fight me when I cleaned him up after his morning feed- that he didn't eat much of. We gave him some water, and that seemed to perk him up a bit, but he wasn't really reacting to our voices. We ran to the store to pick up a baby gate so we could leave the bathroom door open and keep the dogs out. When we got home he was dead.

I cried so hard on Friday, I pulled a muscle in my throat. Everyone keeps telling me that I did everything I could, I did everything I could, but really, I'll never know for sure. Yes, he was far undersized- we estimated his age at 4-5 weeks, at which point kittens should weigh around a pound, he was less than half that size. But I really believed he would pull through. I thought there must be a reason I was given this opportunity. And maybe this is that reason, but in that case, it sucks!

How something so small wiggled his way into my heart so fast, I'll never know. He's left a hole there, one I'll treasure, even though right now it still hurts a lot. He was incredibly special, my little Toa- a brave warrior. I couldn't save him.