Friday, March 2, 2012

It's only money.
Yesterday (Thursday) was dentist day at my house (coincidentially, and more humorously, Glennon of the Momastery blog had her kids at the dentist yesterday too).  I scheduled all four of us to come in as successive appointments.  My three-year-old had his teeth looked at for the first time. No cavities. My husband never has cavities. I have decay on two teeth: one will require a crown replacement, the other they can do as a filling, they think. So there's a few thousand dollars to find.
My six-year-old daughter also had two cavities we were watching; those now need filling, another several hundred.  And dental insurance, as those of you with crowns out there know, is a joke when it comes to actually needing real work done outside of your annual check-ups. 

Also on our plate is whether to do eye surgery on the dog.   He's 14 and a half, a mutt of Australian Shepherd and American Cocker Spaniel heritage (we had his DNA done).  He basically looks like a mini-Aussie with a tail.  He has been a great friend to me.  I adopted him from the Ames (IA) animal shelter in 1997 at six months old.  He and his sister had been dumped on the side of a highway in the middle of nowhere.  He doesn't get to demonstrate it much anymore because he's mostly blind and deaf, but he was/is a brilliant dog.  We did obedience and agility training.  He could do all the basics on and off leash, with verbal or hand signals, plus retrieve particular objects, close closet doors, etc.  I used to sneak him into my apartment in my laundry basket.  I could just put him in there, put clothes on top of him, and he would stay under them until I took them off him.  People used to accuse me of keeping him on tranquilizers because he was so laid back at such an early age.  When it was time to play he would play, but when it was time to sack out, he'd lie down and leave you alone.  You could leave food on the coffee table and leave the room and he wouldn't take it... at one point, probably  not now.  Hes' gotten a bit cantankerous.  We often would joke that it was like living with Lassie.  "What?  Timmy fell into the well?"  He was quite spry until a year or two ago when he started to get arthritis and his patellas slipped on his knees so that it's very painful for him to bend them.  Consequently he waddles now.

Anyway, we were advised not to risk putting him under anesthesia to fix his knees, but now he has eye problems.  He has 90% complete cataracts in both eyes, a barely healed, severe ulcer in the cornea of the left eye and a lesser one in the right. This leaves his left eye with a very very weak spot that is susceptible to rupture. We could do nothing, or have a graft replace the bad cornea on one or both eyes or have that done plus cataract removal to one or both eyes, all to the tune of another several thousand dollars. There's also anesthesia to consider again.  I need to call back and have them explain to me why,  at his age, apparently our vet wouldn't risk to fix his knees, but didn't seem at all concerned about it for the eyes (?). There'll likely be pain and eye drops and the "cone of shame" as well, none of which will be understood by my geriatric buddy. On the other hand, he could lose the one eye if it ruptures.  If he were an "old school" (i.e. my Pop-pop's) dog there wouldn't be much question of spending that kind of money on a dog, never mind its age. Also if we had more savings I'd spring for it no questions asked. As it is, we don't, and I'm finding myself quite hesitant. Risk anesthesia and confusing pain and the cone collar (he already falls down a lot) to restore vision in one eye long? A few weeks? A few years? Who knows?  What if he dies on the table? Anyone want to send me $2000 to possibly kill or restore sight but definitely cause a lot of unnecessary pain and confusion to my dear furry friend?

So that's our current family drama.  This is what should have me wringing my hands and getting upset about, not all the nonexistent b.s. going on in my head, right?

On a completely unrelated note, my son and I laid in my bed this morning pretending to swap and eat each other's brains and he said that "Momma, we're zombie friends."  So despite the kid's voracious appetite for screen time, we still have some imagination.  Though it does all seem to be about "pewing" (as in laser blaster) or beating or fencing other "guys."  I don't know where it is coming from.  I know it's not from Dora or Diego, The Cat In The Hat, or Mr. Rogers.... He does like to watch his father play his Star Wars Lego game on the Wii.  Yep.  That's it.  As per our marriage agreement, I blame my husband.  He will accept the blame and tell me I am right, admit that it is his fault, and say he's sorry.  That works well for us in a variety of areas.

Back to the first topic, I have agreed to illustrate the forthcoming children's book of my sister's brother-in-law.  I used to do a good bit of art when I was in high school and did some illustration in/after grad school.  I'm super excited about that project as it is much closer to actually becoming real than my book idea, so we'll see.  Maybe I'll become a world-famous children's book illustrator and my dog can get bionic knees and cyborg eyes.  That'd be cool.

1 comment:

  1. Indy is 15 and a half years old. Not 14 and a half. That's like 105 in dog years!