First question: Can I get out of bed?
Second question: Can I get downstairs?
Third question: Can I get some food?
These are some pretty intense questions for someone who has pain radiating down their legs and can’t see well in the dark. What is with this daylight savings time BS? I have to stop driving at like 5 o’clock now. That’s some bull. I want dairy-free Crème Brule ice cream. What am I supposed to do just whip that up out of the cans of chicken soup in my pantry?
Growing up is realizing that there are some problems you just can’t solve with the snap of your fingers.
Like today for instance, my mom and I were at a farmer’s market in Delray. I had an apple jam filled pastry. Then we bought a pumpkin bone for Happy. As we were leaving, one booth had a cage full of puppies—just the cutest, crawly, cuddly little German Shepherds you’ve ever seen. And I thanked god that I was there with my mom and not R.J because I don’t think there would have been any stopping him from getting one, had he actually laid his eyes on those teeny-tiny little snuggle-bugs.
Except for the main thing that’s stopping him from getting one—mainly, ME and my dog allergies.
I know I talk about Happy a lot on here and how he’s the love of my life, but I actually have terrible allergies to dogs (and cats and horses and birds, if you can believe it.) Happy is a poodle, and like the dog I grew up with, he’s hypo-allergenic (or as hypoallergenic as dogs get.) And that’s really upsetting for poor R.J who has always wanted a German Shepard or a husky—and can’t get one because it would throw my allergies out of whack.
He had one growing up that he had to leave when his family moved. I know it would mean the world to him to be able to have one again. I’d even deal with the fact that I don’t, in general, like big dogs because it would make him SO HAPPY every day to have a giant, slobbering dog like that.
Don’t get me wrong, he loves Happy—but I get it when he says he wants a dog of his own.
We’ve gone over the problem in a million different ways. We’ve looked at other large-breed hypo allergenic dogs, but he doesn’t like any of them. And I’m already maxed out on allergy and immune medication, it’s not worth testing it with a dog I know I’m allergic to if we’re just going to have to give him away. And we even researched a breed called the Alaskan Klee Klai—a type of miniature husky that can be hypo-allergenic if breed correctly…
Except that’s very hard to do…
And breeders rarely know if their litter is hypo-allergenic….
And there’s no easy way to tell for sure, because we can’t even see one unless we buy it and have it shipped to our state, since there are no breeders in Florida…
So we’ve kind of given up on the issue.
There are a lot of moments when it comes to chronic illness (or any illness) where you just feel hopeless and pissed because you know you’re screwing up somebody’s idea of a good time—and there’s just no solution for it.
Maybe I’ll buy Happy some stilts. Thoughts?
(Any un-solvable situations you’re dealing with because of your illness? Leave it in the comments!)
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