A Lifetime

FRIDAY  "You'll never what I'm doing!!" I exclaimed to my mom over the phone as I taped an envelope.  This particular envelope was special because it was our last payment to the hospital.  We'd been paying on this bill, $50 per months so long that I cannot even remember what it was for.  Previously, we paid $50 per month on an ER visit I'd had after a bout with pneumonia.  I didn't have insurance & it wound up costing us over $3000.  As soon as it was paid, Shawn went into for something and left us with the current three year gig of paying that same $50 per month.

"I've just accepted that we'll pay $50 for the rest of our lives," I said to my mom.  "I'm sure as soon as this in the mail, something will happen."  I was joking.  I was not inviting bad karma.  I was totally and completely joking.  Period.

SATURDAY  I dropped the envelope into a mailbox and drove down the street for Zoe's yearly shots.  We'd known for a long time something had been wrong with her hind legs but I hadn't mentioned that yet.  Dr. Gosney rotated Zoe's legs and said she needed surgery on her knees.  Zoe had luxating patella, a condition in which the ligaments stretch and the knee slides across instead of settling in where it needs to be.  Eventually, the ligaments could stretch too much, causing great pain.  Or the ACL could rupture, causing lameness in the legs. 

Shawn and I thought our dog was a little fat & simply needed to walk her more to fix her odd walk.  I was emotional.  I spoke to the woman at the desk and after being quoted a price of $2350.00 for the surgery, I began to cry, right there in the veterinary clinic.

I took Zoe to the car and cried a few minuets to try & get it out of my system before hitting the interstate.  I pulled into our drive way and sobbed hard before getting out of the car.  My shoulders shook and I wheezed.  Where would we get this money!  Shawn's self-employed now, it's not like we have steady cash coming in.

I broke the news to Shawn & we headed to bank, figuring we could get a loan payment for around $50 or close to what the hospital bill was.  Then, I decided, it would be as if nothing changed.

The payment turned out to be more around the figure of $77 per month.  I also decided I would work Saturdays to try to get the loan paid down as quickly as possible.  Now is not the time to have extra payments floating about. 

I cried all weekend.  I was exhausted.  We lost two pets int he last year and I could not bear the thought of something bad happening.  The recovery would surely prove to be stressful.  I'll be eaten alive with guilt being at work all day as Zoe will lie in her bed, unable to walk.

MONDAY  After speaking with my dad, I decided to get Zoe a second opinion.  I didn't feel right about it all.  Dr. Gosney announced, "Surgery!" and dumbfounded, I said, "OK!"  The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.  The second opinion confirmed what had to be done, only this doctor spent a helluva lot more time with me, explaining everything in great detail. 

Apparently this is very common in small dogs, particularly Chihuahuas.  Zoe's extra weight isn't helping the knee problem, even though we've been walking her everyday.  The surgery is now scheduled for Thursday.  I figure Zoe will be on pain meds for Friday so I can feel it out over the weekend. 

I asked my parents to pray about all this because I don't have as close a relationship with The Big Guy as they do.  I did pray on Sunday though.  I literally dropped to my knees on the kitchen floor and prayed and begged and wept over my dog.

"I know she's not your child, but you treat her like one.  We'll do whatever needs to be done," Shawn said.  I only wished I had not yet used up my week's vacation.  I feel desperate to have it back.  Zoe feels about me much in the same way I feel about her.  If I leave the room, she comes and finds me and waits very patiently until I am done and we can finally play together.  This has to go well.  After the last year, I beleive I'd just about break in two if something happened.  It has to go well.