I am an avid dog lover with my heart given to The Black Dog and The Brown Dog. Okay, I shouldn't forget the SO or the Bonuses; the pups are close second behind them. Close enough behind them that on occasion the fam might even feel second rate at times. Which makes me feel badly - for the dogs. What kind of monsters have I created?
These days those two monsters are my constant companions. They watch over me like a hawk and give the SO a hard time if they think he isn't watching closely enough. Which he always is by the way. Lucky me. Watching the dogs I am learning to slow down and pay attention to what is going on around me. I always tend to think that their SoCal life is very different from their days in the mountains of Utah. That they miss the wildlife and the openness - not only of our former home but the open space around that home. The Brown Dog and his weekly climb up our rock retaining wall to run the trails with our neighbor's dog until I could find him and treat bribe him home. The Black Dog touching noses with a young male moose through the screen of our bedroom window one spring. And my storm watching from our living room or deck; snow storms, lightning storms and rainbows.
Our home in SoCal is in a neighborhood that is, diplomatically - very neighborly. Houses are close to one another although angled in a way that creates privacy. Yards are separated by cinderblock walls and strategically placed trees. In Park City the dogs would sometimes get involved in barking conversations that went on between the houses in our neighborhoods. Everyone took their turn, no interruptions and to me - it seemed like a clear passing of information up and down the street. Most of the time this was around moose sightings or certain dogs and their human companions - availing themselves of our yards without picking up. (The dogs not the humans; I hope.) Here in SoCal the dog chitchat seems to be more around announcing it is time for the evening walk and they are on the way (the four Bassett Hounds), the Maltipoo across the street alerting everyone to coyotes in the canyon below and the German Shepherd announcing he has patrolled the streets with his human companion and all is well. The Brown Dog is on alert, either watching through our upstairs bedroom window or the gate by our pool; alternating between greeting people who are part of the regular routine or sounding the alarm on interlopers. And The Black Dog? She is more focused on the weather and making sure all are safe if it is windy or rainy or too hot. Their version of Limbo is like mine, killing the time between gathering information and acting on it.
When you are in my stage of Limbo, you are living with an uninvited guest - Can-sa. In Limbo your mind takes over between doctors appointments and next steps. To keep myself on the positive path I am focusing on seeing things and opening myself up in a way that I never have before. I notice the dogs and their routines. I am, finally, paying attention to the messages my body is sending me and I am developing a new appreciation for the little things the SO does that I may have taken for granted in the past. That is the beauty for me of Limbo. I decided to go with positivity although I certainly have my moments that aren't as positive. Luckily for me I have a very unexpected Can-sa Buddy. Not that my support system isn't doing a great job but sometimes it is easier to talk to someone who has been on, or is on - the same path you are.
My Can-sa Buddy is someone I have had respect for since the day we met. I can't say we've been particularly close but I know when I am around her I really enjoy her company. She was diagnosed with breast Can-sa earlier this year. We spoke about it only a couple of times while she was trying to sort it out; her worries for her family, her job and ability to go through various therapies for a year that weren't initially part of the plan. I had nothing to add to the conversation but support and an ear. Little did I know that one conversation about a week before my own diagnosis prepared me for the events to come.
Now I hate like hell that she has this; but on the other hand - I am so glad to have her to share this experience with. She gets it. And my situation isn't even that bad relatively speaking. We talked the other week and I shared my still unfolding diagnosis with her. One of the challenges I've had is with my body's response to some medications I am on. I've been constantly sick and exhausted which no one foresaw. Lucky me - in the elite tiny group of people who have this reaction. And I am beginning to worry thinking this is supposed to be the easy part. My Can-sa Buddy, aka the CB - understood and was able to talk me through it. (Looking back, I am not sure she knew how stressed I was.) She reminded me to take things a day at a time; to set boundaries and put this first. Reminded me of that one conversation we had which was all about the same issues - for her. She shared her fears with me about her upcoming chemotherapy which was going to start shortly. She also shared her feelings of support and love - from both expected and unexpected places. She reminded me to remain open and calm. We both pull each other up when we need to and allow the comfort of a little breakdown when we need to do that too.
I was at home the other day, working and dealing with some unexpected fallout from a bad food and med mix. I was probably overthinking things. The SO, the family, the dogs and friends, work. It seemed overwhelming. My two canine companions were by my side all day; rotating in and out and resting when I slept. Their presence was very comforting. I kept thanking about my CB too. When we last spoke, only a couple of days ago she was preparing for her first chemo treatment. We laughed about some of the strange things we are experiencing and acknowledged that our paths are different too. After we hung up she sent me a follow up email which I didn't expect at all; it cheered me up. I decided to keep it and remember it as the dogs surround me, the SO does those unexpected things; as the Bonuses, family, friends and Touchstones check in. Now I have the CB to add to this fabulous support system. And I hope I am part of hers too.
"You can do this. It won't be fun. We'll get through it together."
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