The Best Girl Ever Crossed The Bridge

We said goodbye to our Bear-Bear this week. The hit to our heart was enormous. She was nearly twelve-- in Great Pyr years, that's really almost an eternity...for us, it was still too soon. Our very first Pyr puppy after having rescued three--we lived in her world. Sassy, brilliant, paw-giver, hug-giver, big kisses-giver plus best big Sissy ever to her brother. I am a Pyrenees mom through and through-- these brilliant dogs stole our hearts over twenty years ago and we've never looked back. 

I can barely type right now as my eyes are tearing up. Nothing prepares you for final moments. But every time we bring a new fur baby into our home, we know what we're signing up for. But it's always too soon. We said our farewell through a pet hospice center...one of the most beautiful send-offs we could have asked for. 

Her name was was derived from a combo of several favorites in my life: Francie from "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn", Frank Sinatra, Frankenstein and finally Pope Francis. She lived up to Frankenstein the most: our little monster. She was funny, bold, protective, loving and always right by my side--every night taking prime spot beside me for constant pets, hugs and basically overall support--especially given what we've been through. Godspeed baby girl.

 

The New Normal

 

We're heading into the fourth week post-stroke. It has not been easy. I have cried, had sleepless nights, bouts of emotional ping pong, lack of appetite and a few pity parties. My sweet sister, friends (forty years long)--family and neighbors have all been in constant contact, offering support, texting: How are you? I'm no saint. I want my life back. All the while celebrating the many mini victories Joseph has each day--focusing on what's right in front of me--not the future, definitely not the past (which allows despair to creep in...never a good thing) and just breathing.

The other day, we loaded up the car and visited a park to extend his walking space (we're so tired of the back and forth, back and forth in the house, or on our sidewalk). It was a beautiful day for a small stroll--plus gave us the opportunity to practice car rides. He did great. He's now using a cane as well as walker. Baby steps.

There's a saying: God never gives you more than you can handle. Um, yes she does. I'm a list, journal, notes and paper calendar woman, raised in the school of the Franklin Planner, The Seven Habits of Highly Successful People--the Covey principle of "first things first". Every day when Joseph wakes, there's an eraser board with the date, hour-by-hour activities and PT/OT visits, doctor appointments and goals for the day along with rest and his meds schedule. One of the things I've learned is that structure and schedules broken out for the stroke survivor are incredibly helpful. As a caregiver, this also helps me. These few minutes of quiet planning in the morning are precious. It's a lot.

When an unexpected dental emergency struck (because why not?!--remember, "never gives you more than blah, blah, blah"--whatever!) the anxiety I had over his ability to consume proper foods to help his brain heal went into overdrive. Lucky for me, I have a dear friend who contacted another dear friend whose son is a dentist. We had an appointment the very next day--omg! The news wasn't great, but at least there's someone trying to work out a plan to help. I had an ugly cry. Friends. I am so lucky. The goodness showered on me (right in lockstep with the grief) has lifted me.

At some point this will all be a "remember that damn stroke?" story. At another time, I'll address the elephant in the room: Hey, look at this, a vegetarian had a stroke...see it doesn't matter! Well, it DOES matter. Stroke does not care...but genetics and overall health DOES. And overall health going into a medical crisis is everything.