We still don’t have a diagnosis on Blotch’s condition, but expect it this week. He’s not been doing very well and I’ve very sad for him, watching his discomfort day after day. I had to rush him to the vet on Saturday because he got dehydrated again. They’ve let me start doing his sub-Q injections at home now. Poor Blotch. Everytime I walk in the room, he thinks he’s gonna get poked. I’ve spent a lot more time loving on him so he won’t think I’ve turned into the big mommy torture machine. He did finally start purring again on Sunday. That was a relief.
Ali’s doing pretty good this week…much better than I am, in my opinion. I’m getting tired of crying myself to sleep with worry. I hardly ever cry and have always been that way. But I’m making up for it now. I’ve cried more in the past two weeks than I’ve cried in the past 20 years. I’m not exaggerating! Poor Richard can only hug and comfort me, which is about all we can do for Blotch until we know exactly what’s wrong with him.
Wanting to keep busy over the weekend (to keep my mind off my worries), we reorganized our bedroom and Max’s bedroom. That was fun…for me anyway. Richard and the children didn’t look too happy about following my instructions for where to put boxes going into storage and where to move the heavy furniture.
I had to secretly make room in our bedroom for Richard’s birthday present, which is being delivered on his birthday, but I couldn’t tell him that. He just thinks I’m on some kind of maternal fall-cleaning craze. Heh…
Hugs to all!
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