you live through something major, and for the immediate future after said survival you panic that it will happen again. or at least i do.
my pup is sick. he has a corneal abrasion/ulcer that popped up sunday night. he didn't do anything in particular to cause it and the vet said it's a pretty common occurrence with his breed, so she wasn't too shocked to see it.
he had to have his eye dilated (like a human--i know, it's weird to me, too), a funky light shined in it to see what was going on, and is on an aggressive treatment of dilation drops, antibiotic drops, and pain meds for the foreseeable future.
he's been so utterly listless the past couple days. he eats, drinks, and does his business, but otherwise he just sleeps--which is very peculiar for this particular little hellcat.
i'm filled with panic.
this has become the norm for me, unfortunately.
my mom gets the sniffles--i panic.
my best fried sneezes--i panic.
one of the dogs has the slightest ailment--i panic.
ever since my daddy passed i have lived in a fairly predictable state of panic. i've come to expect it, but it is certainly not welcome or healthy.
it's as if i'm just waiting to relive the
as if i'm eternally waiting for the other shoe to drop. for someone else to leave. for grief to take me under one more time, never to surface again.
but i take the fact that i recognize this panic as nonsensical as a good sign. at least i realize i'm being ridiculous even if i can't ebb the flow of panic welling within.
my little buddy's eye is all messed up right now. but he's okay. the vet thinks he will recover completely.
i am going to keep telling my panic-filled psyche that over and over again in the next few days, hoping that eventually it will stick.
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