Thursday, July 10, 2014


Because trust me... I totally wanted to die for I just can't beLIEVE how sick I've been, off and on, since May. And as of a week ago, I thought I was pretty much on my last legs. This is the craziest story ever.

So as it happens... ever since May I have been to the doctors umpteen times. My sinuses were infected, my allergies were knocking me out, my breathing was difficult, the coughing alone was this far from doing me in. God only KNOWS what else was going on. 

I had even been to two doctors about five times in total in the past eight weeks, I'll bet. Not counting the trip to Urgent Care one Sunday morning about a couple of weeks ago. I was on all kinds of meds, inhalers and treatments and although I was perfectly fine in Miami, before and after the trip I was simply miserable and oh so sick.

In fact, I was all prepared to go my son's graduation at the end of this month and then immediately high tail it to some sort of specialist after my return, so they could run major tests on me given I was SURE I was sporting some sort of deadly disease. Besides... I've been losing weight out of the blue and the other day I even decided that once I got the bad news of something really bad going on with me... I was not even going to put myself through hard ass treatments and instead would just call it a day without prolonging things.

On the other hand however... today, FINALLY... I think I'm going to be okay afterall which means I can probably forego the horrible diagnosis and/or treatments. Hallefuckinglujah. So what's the secret to my recovery after these past two and a half months? Oh man.. you'll so never believe it.

It began with Ollie and I being out on my deck late last week and he had his paws up upon my knees while we were chit chatting as I was petting his face, etc. Then... when he got down, I noticed there were a couple of dog hairs on my skirt, so I whisked them away and then, right then and there BINGO.


Sitting down?? I WAS ALLERGIC TO OLLIE!! His fur. His dander. His EVERYthing! OMG. I've been trying to get well all this time yet it was all for naught since the dog was making me... what else... SICK AS A DOG!! I was STUNNED at my realization. I could not beLIEVE what was going on; how I didn't even figure it out earlier, I'll never know. IT WAS A NO BRAINER.

Which only means: Ollie was in fact the best alltime pet ever BUT... not so fantastic that I was willing to die for him. I simply had to wrap my head around everything and then I just had to face the music: Ollie had to go. I just couldn't live like that anymore. Bottom line??

I am sad to say... Ollie is now back at the Humane Society where I pray some really nice family will adopt him all over again. I felt horrible about having to do this, for I am sure I fucked him up but plenty by his being given up by his first owner, then living at the Humane Society, then living at home with me, then whammo. Bringing him back to the Humane Society all over again. But I just had no choice. I can't die for a dog.

So the moral of this story: GUESS WHAT? I'M ALIVE ONCE AGAIN! I CAN BREATH ONCE AGAIN. MY SINUSES ARE NON INFECTED ONCE AGAIN. I AM COUGH FREE ONCE AGAIN. And... I AM MED FREE ONCE AGAIN, TOO. The difference in my health is like night and day. Even Teresa said this morning she can't get over how much better I look and sound! Granted... I weigh less now than I have in the past five years so for all I know maybe I AM suffering from some sort of ridiculous disease. Although I'm not as convinced as I surely was before I returned Ollie.

In the meantime... yes returning Ollie was a difficult decision to make but man am I thrilled to be alive again. And hopefully... disease free. I will say this however. If I lose another five pounds lets say, then for sure I'm running to some sort of specialist afterall. I'll feel terrific true, but seriously... since when does weight just decide to fall off of me? Uh... think: never! Dear God... please take good care of Ollie and oh yeah. Thanks for taking good care of me, too. Amen. 

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