three things thursday
1. I'm not sure how to say this without sounding like a total asshole (for once, a time where I'm not trying to sound like a total asshole), so please bear with me. We've been hit hard financially this year for quite a few reasons. I've spent most of my life generally being a frugal miser, but after a tax mix-up led to a five-figure bill in April, just moments before losing my job, we've had to turn to our savings - and that's why they are there. But it left us more unprepared than we normally would have been to support Graham's medical bills.
When Amy and Liz asked me if they could ask for help for us, my intent was not to have his entire bill covered so I could go back to buying neon shoes, but rather to help us bridge the gap between what we were able to provide and the care that he needed. I am happy to say with sincere gratitude and more than a little disbelief, that gap has been bridged. This community has stepped in and considerably lightened our load, but I wouldn't be a good mama to my pups if I didn't want to carry some of the load myself.
I guess what I'm not doing a very good job of saying is, please continue to send your love and prayers and support to Graham, but please use your financial resources to help out others that are more in need than we are as of today. We needed, and you stepped in and helped and I am overwhelmed by it, but I feel that it would be selfish of us to continue to accept assistance when our burden has been reduced to something manageable. The checks that I write every month as we pay off the rest will remind me of the help we received but also that I was able to keep my baby alive. Thom and I independently came to the same conclusion before he wrote his blog post on Tuesday - Graham is no longer just our dog, he is everyone's dog. But he is also our dog, and in a severely twisted way, I want to spend the next few months pinching and budgeting and figuring out how to pay off the remainder of his medical bills before we begin paying it forward. This isn't a passive-aggressive plea from a martyr, this is truth.
It may sound ungracious, or stubborn, or just like I have a lot of pride, but what I am trying to say above all else, what I will say over and over until you tell me to shut up, is thank you. Thank you for making it possible for Graham to be laying on the floor at my feet right now, drooling on his tennis ball and thumping his tail. Thank you for sending love and prayers and all of your emails about your pets eating shoelaces and towels and beanbags and fishing wire and rubber bands. Thank you.
2. As of this morning, Graham is seven days post-surgery, which is about six days longer than we all thought he was going to live. There was a terrifying post-surgery window of 4-7 days where the likelihood of serious complications was extremely high. The biggest likely complication was that his intestines had been damaged in a way that wasn't visible during surgery due to the inflammation, infection, and dehydration, but that as he rehydrated, they would perforate. There's still a possibility that this could happen, but seven days was a bit of a magic number. He has made huge strides over the past two days and if he makes it through this weekend, his chances of surviving will go through the roof. I feel like I have remembered how to breathe.
3. I wrote about 80% of my ironman race reports on the plane last Tuesday. They mostly just need editing to drop in some extra f-bombs and add the pictures of my mom on the media moto (so many good stories to tell you guys), but for obvious reasons, I haven't been up to finishing them up since the race. However, I hope it isn't crass to hop back on the triathlon blogging wagon at this point. I'll likely start posting them (clearly I'm going to stretch it out over multiple posts with tons of annoying pictures) tomorrow or Monday for your snarking enjoyment.
Until then, let's talk about what the hell else has been going on in your world for the past two weeks. And apparently it's July?
When Amy and Liz asked me if they could ask for help for us, my intent was not to have his entire bill covered so I could go back to buying neon shoes, but rather to help us bridge the gap between what we were able to provide and the care that he needed. I am happy to say with sincere gratitude and more than a little disbelief, that gap has been bridged. This community has stepped in and considerably lightened our load, but I wouldn't be a good mama to my pups if I didn't want to carry some of the load myself.
I guess what I'm not doing a very good job of saying is, please continue to send your love and prayers and support to Graham, but please use your financial resources to help out others that are more in need than we are as of today. We needed, and you stepped in and helped and I am overwhelmed by it, but I feel that it would be selfish of us to continue to accept assistance when our burden has been reduced to something manageable. The checks that I write every month as we pay off the rest will remind me of the help we received but also that I was able to keep my baby alive. Thom and I independently came to the same conclusion before he wrote his blog post on Tuesday - Graham is no longer just our dog, he is everyone's dog. But he is also our dog, and in a severely twisted way, I want to spend the next few months pinching and budgeting and figuring out how to pay off the remainder of his medical bills before we begin paying it forward. This isn't a passive-aggressive plea from a martyr, this is truth.
It may sound ungracious, or stubborn, or just like I have a lot of pride, but what I am trying to say above all else, what I will say over and over until you tell me to shut up, is thank you. Thank you for making it possible for Graham to be laying on the floor at my feet right now, drooling on his tennis ball and thumping his tail. Thank you for sending love and prayers and all of your emails about your pets eating shoelaces and towels and beanbags and fishing wire and rubber bands. Thank you.
2. As of this morning, Graham is seven days post-surgery, which is about six days longer than we all thought he was going to live. There was a terrifying post-surgery window of 4-7 days where the likelihood of serious complications was extremely high. The biggest likely complication was that his intestines had been damaged in a way that wasn't visible during surgery due to the inflammation, infection, and dehydration, but that as he rehydrated, they would perforate. There's still a possibility that this could happen, but seven days was a bit of a magic number. He has made huge strides over the past two days and if he makes it through this weekend, his chances of surviving will go through the roof. I feel like I have remembered how to breathe.
3. I wrote about 80% of my ironman race reports on the plane last Tuesday. They mostly just need editing to drop in some extra f-bombs and add the pictures of my mom on the media moto (so many good stories to tell you guys), but for obvious reasons, I haven't been up to finishing them up since the race. However, I hope it isn't crass to hop back on the triathlon blogging wagon at this point. I'll likely start posting them (clearly I'm going to stretch it out over multiple posts with tons of annoying pictures) tomorrow or Monday for your snarking enjoyment.
