There’s nothing like a good bit of stress to put me to the test.
Sam, my love, my little fur baby, has been sick. Honestly, as someone without children, he is really like my baby. I’ve never had a connection with an animal (or a human for that matter) like the one I have with him so when he is suffering and everything I try isn’t helping, it wrecks me.
Add to that sleepless nights listening to him struggle to breath—holding my breath while he strains to inhale, puffing his cheeks as he lets out an exhale—it makes for a fractured me. A me that starts losing the thread on taking care of myself or remembering why I should/need/want to take care of myself.
I’ve had moments of wanting to inhale comfort food and to be totally honest, the last two nights I have had a couple drinks. So I failed in that regard. Actually double failed because a rule I had in mind was that I would only drink on the weekends, if then—and this was wednesday and thursday. So fail. Failing on many counts it feels like because drinking hasn’t gotten Sam any better and I’m not sure it helped me much other than that very fleeting relaxation that comes with a cocktail.
I feel like there is a lot to be written but I lack the focus right now so will wait for another time.
Oh, and I hit the 50lb mark.
Things that weigh 50lbs: approximately 5 Sammies. I don’t want to lose any more sammies.
Week 15 (Sorry, no pic)
weight = 268.1
first week = 313.1lbs
blood pressure = 130/70
first week = 145/73
heart rate = 68
first week = 77
Mood: can’t remember.