Be still the heart

We just had a huge scare. My shih tzu Chewbacca, who is a spoiled 15 year old fur monster, started not feeling well last week. He has a very severe heart condition so we thought that was the issue. He was shivering and had a fever. I slept with him downstairs on the futon and cuddled him. Chewie whimpered in his sleep. 

After two days, I decided I have to take him in. His vet recently moved his practice to Santa Monica but he is in Glendora on Tuesdays. Because I couldn't reach him, I decided to try the emergency vet. 

Adrian drove me to the emergency. Chewie shivered and cried little yelps the whole way. When we got there, I advised them of his heart condition and they said his breathing was labored and they were going to get the oxygen tent ready. I said okay and put down a hefty deposit. Then they said they needed X-Rays and were going to an IV of Lasix to treat his heart.

The "beginning" estimate was a thousand dollars and they said they were going to keep him there over night and I could come back later. Something told me to leave. I just didn't feel right leaving him there. Plus, Adrian had said he thought it was an infection. Despite their warnings, I went with my gut  and checked Chewie out against their advice. Basically, I ran out of there with Chewie in my arms after paying their hefty exam fee.

The next morning, I took him to see his long time vet. It turns out, Adrian was right. It was an infection, a severe urinary tract one. After taking the liquid antibiotics, Chewbacca apparently perked up immediately. It was as if he had escaped death's door. My vet allowed to do a drop off before work And when I picked him up, I knew he was going to be okay.

So be still my heart, Chewbacca lives on. It's a happy ending to this story my friends. 

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Asleep

Life is poignant. Things are going good and then of course, a hiccup. Chewbacca is struggling health wise again and I am struggling emotionally. Where do I go from here? How do I know when to let him go? I'm selfish I admit. I love him very much.  

But I don't want Chewie to be in pain or watch him suffer. He's fifteen years old. He's been spoiled, snuggled and loved beyond measure his whole life. I'm happy we have had him this long. He adds a lot of joy to my life. When I come home and see his fluffy face and his tongue hanging out, and he runs up to me, it makes me happy no matter how bad my day's been. 

They say dogs teach us how to grieve because their life spans are shorter than ours. Losing Frodo was hard, but I know losing Chewbacca will be unbearably harder. It will be like losing a piece of myself. But I just hope I'm strong enough to make the right decision when it's time. 

I have to take Chewie to the groomer today and should get him up. He looks so peaceful as he snores and I don't want to wake up him yet. So I pat his head, kiss his little brown nose and watch him sleep. 

Epiphany epiphanies

So I'm having some epiphanies. Work has been a little overwhelming of late and I've realized a few things. I'm basically a happy person. I love writing, reading, and helping people. Plus, I'm a natural scholar and I'm enthusiastic. 

I met with my professor for my Shakespeare class at lunch a few days ago to talk about my final paper, and she was so encouraging and kind. She told me I was a joy to have in class and she loved my perspective on law and literature. She encouraged me to continue writing about law and literature. 

The interaction was so markedly different than what I am used to as a lawyer. It made me realize that I'm a bit stunted and don't always feel encouraged to be me. And look, I'm a tough girl, I am. I don't need someone to hold my hand or give me positive affirmations but sometimes I just wish I was appreciated for everything and all I am. And that people saw me. 

But you can't make that happen. Another epiphany. I can't control how others see me. People see me through their own lens which can be distorted by their own biases and perceptions. As Ru Paul says, what others think of me is none of my business. So I've realized that I just need to do me. As my friend told me recently, "do you boo." 

So I shall. 

The light

I met with my advisor last night for my MFA creative nonfiction program at the University of New Orleans. Finally, I can see the finish line. It's been a long road. After all these years, I finally have an anticipated graduation date. I have been going very part time for almost 4 years and it looks like I will graduate in Fall 2025. That's a year and a half away, but I started this process so long ago. It feels like eons, so to realize that graduation can happen in the foreseeable future, well it is a big relief. After having my surgeries a few years ago, I thought if I don't finish and graduate, that's okay too. 

This graduation date assumes that I will take a class this summer and do my thesis hours (for my play adaption of my memoir if they allow it). I also have to stay on track next year. But I am gonna graduate, hopefully with my 4.0 GPA intact. 

I'm going to travel to New Orleans (with hubby) to walk in my cap and gown because this degree is really all for me. Just for me. It isn't practical like my USC Law degree. It is my dream, and I just keep thinking, New Orleans baby. Of all places. It seems fitting. 

Having a MFA won't make me a writer because this I know, I'm already one. Yet, I'm over the moon. I can see it happening. I am almost there.