Christmas Is Canceled Fa-La-La-La-Freaking-Da

It's been a while. Wish I had some excitement, some great news to share, memories to write out, general good times to recall. There has been lots of tv watching and online stress shopping. Christmas is canceled in the Happy Wife House and I'm okay with that. Last week, it was 80 frickin' degrees, so it doesn't feel all that festive anyway. I don't have one tree out, not one string of lights, not one ornament or wreath.

No dates since the last post. Ha! Romance. Dates. Ha ha hahahahahahah. At this point, I'd just like to see my husband sometime like in the house. Around the living room or something. Heh. The hubby has been working 7 days a week, gone before I get up and back after I'm asleep, and I stopped nagging about it pretty quickly after I realized how exhausted and overworked he was getting. Then I flipped over for a while to a "there's lots of meals for you in the fridge!" and "something broke but I'm taking care of it" mentality. The washer died and I was all, "Not today, B*tch" and I went to Sears and bought a washer/dryer in about 5 minutes and called it a day.

Side note: 5 minutes is not long enough to make an informed decision about that. I unknowingly bought not only a high efficiency washing machine but a steam dryer. Hopefully we will be laughing about this for many years to come (in that hopefully they will not break and/or I will not kill them out of anger at their he and steam-y goodness).

Taking care of things and the husband ended the longer Maverick-the-dog's saga wore on. I haven't been to the store in a month and I'm not using things long enough to even know if they are breaking. She's has been so sick that I A) no longer have any cuticles because I bit them all off and B) discovered that Xanax does nothing in my body. I might as well just eat a cracker. Which, along with jello and cereal, is all I've been able to eat for the past, what, 3 weeks now? I mean, I attempt to eat other things, but then I am violently sick. Sometimes some rice and chicken are worth it; other times, more jello for me.

At one point, I puked 12 times in 8 hours, having to stay on the floor of the bathroom when I wasn't puking during that time since any move farther just led to a faster recourse of more puking. I actually said to my husband (since I did see him at 2 am since half of this was at night, he stood over me concerned as I stayed still under a couple towels for warmth on the bathroom floor), "I am enjoying the puking." Which is how he knew I was sick. That isn't like me. But I felt so horrible that every time I puked, I had like a reprieve for about 20 minutes, so therefore, I enjoyed the puking. My husband asked, "Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

He's been so busy that I drove myself to the doctor that week. I am proud of myself for that. I hate going to the doctor, but I needed her to tell me that this wasn't an illness made entirely from my mind and from my stress. She assured me what I was experiencing was some sort of bug. Sure. Let's go with that versus I have totally lost my sh*t.

Mav has had more than her share of the medical world this fall and winter. She's had blood tests and UAs and ultrasounds and all day in-house tests and admittance to the emergency vet to the point that for a while there, she was gone more than she was home. That was horrible to say the least. There is nothing worse than coming home to a Mav-free house. She was finally diagnosed with Adrenal-Dependent Cushing's Disease, which meant there was a tumor on one or both of her adrenal glands. A tumor that needed to be removed. Did you know CT scans alone cost $1,000? We didn't even get to the part where they would draw up an estimate for surgery. Holy hell.

Of course, Mav's "tumor" wasn't able to be located (hence no surgery right now), which led to more tests and then a new conclusion last week that maybe it isn't Adrenal-Dependent Cushing's Disease. Please shoot me. There is a specialist I am trying not to piss off who likes to say things like "I'm totally at a loss right now" and "I have no idea what's happening. It makes no sense." She also likes to say things like "We've never seen anything present like this" and "It's just a mess. Mav's just a big mess."

IT IS REALLY HARD NOT TO YELL AT THIS PERSON.

But we need her and I need her to not like spit in Mav's open cavity during surgery or whatever.

Anyway, I decorated for fall like a boss but by the time Thanksgiving came and went, I didn't want to spend any extra energy on Christmas. Actually, "want" isn't the correct word. I couldn't. Basically anything that isn't necessary right now is out the window. I have no ability for anything else. I am trying to be present and enjoy having Mav next to me, and I'm not doing anything that takes me out of that state of mind. Right now, she is in the middle of "7 days of stress-free life" before she can have yet another test. Stress-free life for a Weimaraner is hilarious and means I have an excellent excuse to not use the vacuum. Also, the kids across the street aren't allowed on their bikes and the UPS man needs to stop ringing the bell. Heh. It also means I can't take her on car rides or even to pick up stuff at the vet office since that gets her all excited. Poor Mav.

After one particularly horrible week where she had spent most of her time in a tiny cage in an animal hospital, I picked her up and had to bring her back the next day. Now, she had been so stressed out and had such an array of awful medical things happen to her that I thought it might be difficult to even get her back in the building. I mean, they really had done a (necessary) number on her.

We got there, and she ran to the door, got in the building, and, as always, wanted to get at every other dog, person in the waiting area, lady behind the counter, and vet tech in the place. Super speed wags, big drool-y smile, heavy happy panting. They took her to the back as she followed beyond thrilled, and when they returned her to me, they said she had kissed the vet and vet tech throughout the blood draw and visit. And something about that just broke me in about a million pieces and it took everything I had not to cry. She just bounded up my legs and planted some good kisses square on my face and was just as ready to go as she had been to stay.

That's where we're at and hopefully things will calm down soon and I'll have happier posts in the future. At the very least, I can dig out the late but still impressive fall decoration photos from the camera. We've had our good moments. I'm caught up on White Collar, have discovered the Macy's website, and am functioning at a level where I actually get dressed in real clothing on a daily basis. Mav still dances for every meal, grabs her plush toys and makes a beeline for the spot next to where I'll be on the couch, and lets the cats pay her more attention than usual. The hubby, well, he's employed still, and his Christmas break is coming sooner than later, and he has at least 6 soccer games on the DVR. We're still pretty damn blessed this holiday season.