Ah, the Fragmentary Nature of Thought

A couple of days ago, a groomer emasculated my dog. Poor Pounce didn't ask for it. Neither did my Mom when she took him. Wait! Maybe she did ask him... Then maybe she lied to me afterward and said she didn't. Hah I doubt it! This is the second time he has had a hair cut and the second time he has come out of it looking like a female dog. He has short, fuzzy hair on this body, but long, fluffy hair on his head and ears. He looks like a moldy, caramel coloured marshmallow.

This time my mom took him to the vet for a cut, probably because it was less expensive. Do groomers in general like to do this to little dogs? Or do groomers tend to just find this look attractive? Poor Pounce apparently cried when he had it done. Everyone at the vet office is sadistic! First they remove some of his man parts. Now this! Maybe I should get certified to be a vet and animal groomer, so that I will be able to take care of Pouncey myself!

Unfortunately, Pounce will likely be dead by the time I get my licenses. Darn! I guess I'll have to trust the vets... So this is what it's like to be a paranoid parent... Well, more like a selfish parent. He's asleep now, but I really want to wake him up to play and cuddle. Restrain yourself, Ashley. RESTRAIN!

Ah, why did I even think about Pounce dying. Seriously, even though that probably won't happen for years, it still hurts me to imagine it. I'm sure all you animal lovers can relate. I got sad whenever one of my hamsters or gerbils died. Animals very quickly become part of the family. It feels like we've always had Pounce. For years I wanted a dog and now I have one!

My parents took the dog to my Grandparents' house a couple of hours away. They stayed over night. I didn't go because I wasn't -- and still am not -- feeling well. Leg fatigue and pain. Anyway, I was happy to have the house to myself. I watched home movies, listened to music, chatted online. Once a year when I look after the Great Danes for a week, I'm the only human there, but they Danes my protectors. They're like people.

But I missed Pounce! And my Mom and Dad! This was the first time I've ever had a home to myself overnight. Yes, I'm 24 and this is the first time. I've never been terribly independent. I hadn't taken the public transit system alone until I was 18 and off to university every day.

I don't think I'd ever seen one of my specialists alone until last year. My mom always wanted to be there -- I think sometimes she still does. She has told me that I tend to downplay my symptoms to the doctor and sometimes I forget what the doctor has said to me, so I can't relay it to her. I think she likes to be there to make sure the doctor knows what my symptoms are and that they make me suffer. I just know my doctors have seen much worse than me. I don't feel that I'm worth much of their time. I don't want to appear dramatic.What if the doctor thinks I'm a hypochondriac? A ridiculous notion, probably, based on my medical history, diagnoses and the fact that no doctor has treated me like that before. My symptoms are as real to them as they are to me. It just feels surreal, telling doctors everything. Wondering what they can do for me. Wondering when they think I'll start feeling better.

I also tend not to explain my symptoms in detail to my friends, in person or on the phone. I get nervous when they ask. I don't really know why. I can't figure that out. I can write about it easily, but in person I don't like to talk about what I've written in this blog or in essays I wrote in university about health. I want people to know when I'm having a hard time and why, but I often don't want to talk about it -- in detail, anyway.

Perhaps, it's because I feel vulnerable about my issues. I don't want anyone to think I'm less capable of doing things, or that I'm delicate. I have always disliked being treated that way. I also dislike the reaction -- even the sympathy -- when people talk to me about it. I mean, I'm glad they feel for me, but I don't know how to handle sympathy or admiration for how I've handled it. What do I say or do?

Sometimes I feel I need Mom at the doctor because I tend to have trouble articulating everything and understanding and remembering what the doctors say. It's part of my Auditory Processing Disorder, which is caused by my neurological condition. It felt so strange to see my neurosurgeon without my mom last month. I'm hoping she'll be okay with me going to see my cardiologist alone this week. I get nervous before seeing the doctor and I find her presence is a major factor in that. I don't like the questions she asks about what I should be doing or what I should look out for. I don't like her being close when I'm examined or when I'm answering the doctor's questions or describing my symptoms.

Wow. Tangent! Anyway, it felt so odd to go to bed alone last night, to be in a quiet, dark house alone. I liked it, but it felt kind of lonely. Do I really want to live my life as a spinster? During my taste of independence last night, I missed my parents and Pounce. Then today when they came home, I went to the usual routine of staying in separate rooms from them mostly, because I wanted the privacy. I was just happy to know they were home, to hear Dad's television playing downstairs, to hear Mom talking to the dog.

It isn't just the comfort of security that I like; I find that I simply enjoy physically being with people. I'm the same with friends! I often don't say very much. I just like to listen to them talk and laugh or sit in silence. I think this comfort when being quiet is a testament to my true friendships and love for my family. I don't mind that I'm often not very chatty. I don't need to talk to feel comfortable or to enjoy myself.

Hosting social engagements does make me uncomfortable because I'm self conscious of my social skills. Also, it's hard to make sure I'm spending enough time with everyone. So many people I like and love! Even inviting people on Facebook was hard for me because I wondered if half the people I invited, mainly friends or acquaintances from university and college I want to get know better, would even want to come! I still wonder who will come. And what if I'm not feeling well during the party? It seems likely given that I've had more downs than upsin the past month. Also, the activity from a party won't help. I'm even less chatty when I don't feel well and I'll probably look sad and tired.

I promise I intended this to be a silly post. It's strange that our emotions can change so quickly. It's best to acknowledge such change, if you ask me.