Feb 26

 Athena was worse again yesterday.

We went for a tiny walk, because she was bored and eager to go out.

It was the shortest of walks. She struggled limping along. By the time we got to turn around, 50 yards at the most she was kind of done. Just. Stopped. Looked around. Didn't really want to move.

I took that as a sign. Picked her up. And walked home with her.

A neighbour several doors down who I have never met before waited for us.

She ok she said ?

She's ok I said. Old. Multiple injuries.

Is it ok if I say hello she said ?

Of course.

Athena got cooed over in my arms.

It's a good job you're strong the neighbour said.

Ha. So am not anymore. Call this. Adrenaline strength. I didn't say this though.

I can remember you running around the meadow years ago the neighbour said. This old age thing is rubbish.

It is. It sucks I said.

We went on our way. You don't realise how many people know you, or your dogs.

For the rest of the day Athena was not great. Hazel came to tell me she was shaking and wobbling during dinner. And was it ok to give her a bit of paracetamol.

I had many tears. Yes. Ok to give her a bit of paracetamol. My mood wiped hardcore. And stayed there.

Athena improved after the paracetamol. It helps. It's not ideal for doggos. It's not ideal for humans. That's the problem. All the painkillers are not ideal for doggos. They take a toll on either liver or kidneys ( new fangled librella is the exception, one of the reasons why its so good ). But. Vets will prescribe paracetamol - or its doggo branded equivalent. Ares was on it for sometime. And this time around. The vet last week said the paracetamol response was "perfect" and it's what they would have done, and it was important to get an anti inflammatory in them asap if they are hurting. Having pain meds to hand was important.

So Athena is still on the line. Yesterday I was in bits again about the knowledge that I had to let her go. That it would not be easy. There would be moments when she was better. And then it would be so hard. How can you let a dog go that's content. So I have to watch and monitor and judge. I don't want her to suffer. 

Today I have woke up with a stone in my stomach that wont shift. My hearing is fucked on the left hand side. Probably blocked. Perhaps an ear infection - I feel dizzier than usual. My mood and the stone is a very clear signal to me. I have breached proper, bad, depression status. I know what this is. I have been here many many times. And this in me is my first major no arguing about it road sign. If it gets to this point, it's too late. You're in for a ride. There are many other signs along the way, and many factors that indicate that you're already depressed. But they can come and go. And I live in a state of some form of depression anyway ( Dysthymia ). But this road sign is the proper screaming nut house version of the problem. The things are going to get weird. I know it. I've already experienced it a few times in the last few days. Losing my grip on reality, context, perspective. It becomes like a rat in a trap. Sweaty. Crazy. Suicidal. It's hard to describe beyond saying.. mad.

I have slowly been stepping my mental meds up in recent weeks. I think as of today I need to put them back up to full strength.

I am tired, ill, very sad, hopeless.

Sometimes I feel like I am racing Athena to an end point. We are neither of us in great form.

If I were a dog, you'd probably put me to sleep at this point.

Sleep.

I didn't want to wake up today. Leave me alone. Go back to sleep. There is nothing here in the waking world I want. Everything hurts out here. Let me go back to sleep.

Slowly. Begrudgingly. I woke up. With that stone. And a sense of doom.

I have booked an ear appointment for tomorrow. He can, if nothing else, clean out my ears. Wednesday I have an appointment with the respiratory specialist. I also need to see if I can fix the remaining banging of the heating.

I have zero wellness, energy, or mentalry to do the above.

Once more unto the breach Johnny. Someone has to guard the hole in the wall.