Sometimes life is harder than I want it to be. Like it's been said " life happens when we make other plans" I was visited by a really good friend last night, and we laughed and giggled until 3am like little girls at a sleepover. She helped forget for a little while that I'm not the me I was when I met her 2 1/2 years ago. She doesn't treat me any differently and I know it's because she feels lucky that I'm still here. She's the one who took the pictures of my truck the next day after my accident. She was the main one to take me to appointments and help me get back to being even this shadow of me, and never gives me " that look". Anyone with a chronic illness knows the look I'm talking about. She's the main reason I can find my happy spot for a single moment and take this new version of my life in babysteps. Thank you my dearest Henchwoman! I wouldn't be able to do this without you. Thank you for being my friend through good and bad.
So she came, and visited, and sympathized over a sick pet of mine.
LTD was set up in a sick tank to the left of my computer monitor so i could keep an eye on him while doing my daily social duties. He had a seizure about 7 days ago and could no longer manage in the big tank without our worrying about his being drowned. So into a smaller tank he went with enough water to cover his shell, but not enough to drown in and he seemed to be doing better, struggling along daily with only his right sided legs truly working and he reminded me that no matter what the struggle, we must still fight to get there- where ever "there" was. I tried not to get my hopes up about the chances of him surviving but they were, as we came further from the day the seizures started, the fact that he ate made me hope. LTD passed on today while I was sleeping that FIBRO sleep of no return ( the almost coma like sleep that happens when we've over done) And I woke up, walked out of the bedroom, the first thing I saw was the dark empty tank. I'm sad, I'm upset, and I'm at a loss. Is that how it's going to be? This struggle of mine? Fight daily, then just don't wake up. I know it's wrong to compare my struggle to a turtle's but there it is. Maybe he was my mascot in the illness wars, and maybe I'm giving him too much credit and heart. He may have "just" been a red eared slider, but he was charming, funny and very interactive. He liked his humans. And we adored him. So I'm grieving, and I don't understand if it's because I lost my shelled friend, or grieving the symbol he became for me.