I Blame My Dog 100 Percent

Dog sunny Day Afternoon

Dog sunny Day Afternoon (Photo credit: allert)

It’s not my fault that I fell yesterday, really. It’s HER fault. My dog, (mega-puppy) pulled me so hard that she knocked me down on the driveway to greet our neighbors across the street. Granted, I am not strong. I have Fibromyalgia and NO balance so that is my “fault.” She left me lying down on the pavement. Twice. What happened to dogs being loyal? Not this one. I tried to get up and what does she do? She yanks the leash again and down I stay with another set of bruised knees (on top of the last set.)

I didn’t have time to drop the leash, this girl is fast and strong.  Not to mention that she made me drop my Fribble! To those of you who don’t know (and I am a recent convert) a Fribble is a milkshake that Friendly’s makes from soft serve (my friend Mark said it was from ice-milk so I’m not 100 percent sure if either or both are correct.) It’s cold, thick, creamy and utterly ( those of you who really know me, I was tempted to say udderly) delicious. Lexi made me drop my coveted vanilla Fribble all over the driveway and the rest of the day went downhill after that. Thank you Lexi.

So, with bumps and bruises all over, I limped into the house with super-puppy in the hands of our neighbor and my husband helping me up and inside. It’s time for the big guns to be called. I know I have a balance issue and yes, I know I am not strong but this is getting ridiculous. My husband is threatening to call the canine police trainer and have him come out and train Lexi to behave. He was here once before and always said she was a willful pup; I hate to break her spirit but she needs to learn to behave before I break my spine. Before he comes, I am trying to train her myself, with a very short leash and many clicking sounds.

I can always go back and get another Fribble but I can’t afford to be falling anymore. I love my dog, returning her is NOT an option. (You know who you are who suggested this) She is now sleeping on my bed, keeping me company but I do need to train her so she doesn’t pull so much. I have tried every leash in the universe. Lexi, you’re a cute puppy, but I have never met a stronger, more willful puppy anywhere. Even my friends agree that you are incredibly strong for one so young. I’m hoping you will mellow and I know you will be a great dog. You are now seven months and yes, still a puppy. When exactly do you become an adult dog and calm down? For my part, I will try to do some strength building exercise slowly, I promise. We’re in this together.

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The Fibromyalgia Fall And Flicker

NYC - MoMA: Andrew Wyeth's Christina's World

Image by wallyg via Flickrfter

On one of those freezing days we suffered through recently I forced myself to do a couple of errands even though with Fibromyalgia, the 50 mph winds and cold temperatures are not my friends. I was proud after I did my first errand but then I fell on a step, hard. I found myself sprawled and hurt in front of a store.  I landed heavily on my left wrist and right knee. I had to wiggle my body closer so I could tap my nails on their door. A few times. I felt like Christina, in Andrew Wyeth’s  famous painting, Christina’s World. Finally, two women came out looking at me like I was a drug addict, alcoholic, or homeless person that  decided to crash there for a good time. The women opened the door a few inches. I said “I fell, I’m hurt,  I can’t move, can you help me up ?”” I can still see their suspicious faces as if I had hit them up for some heroin.  Finally, a man came running from the back of the store and moved the bitches, I mean women, aside. “What happened,” he cried “are you hurt? Let me help you.”  I was so thankful to hear kind words I could have cried. He came over, pulled me up, then made me come in to the store to sit down and asked if I wanted some cold water. This man became my prince for the day.

Driving home was excruciatingly painful but I had no choice. When I arrived, I sat down on our faded, green living room couch, put my head down and stayed there, not moving.  A few minutes later my husband came in, looked at my face and said “What’s wrong?”  I said ‘I fell’ and then told him the story. My wrist was incredibly painful. Knowing my history with loose bones and plenty of breaks and sprains, my daughter drove me to the doctor’s office. She’s 16 and a half, has her junior license and she sailed through the streets remaining  calm, kind and mature.

An x-ray was taken and I returned to his office for the results. I was thrilled that it was not broken or sprained but also incredulous because of the pain, I couldn’t move my hand.  He asked me for a list of medications that I took and I said Synthroid and Savella. His eyebrows furrowed, his voice became louder and firmer and he asked “what do you take Savella for?”  I answered “Fibromyalgia” and then I saw it. The flicker of suspicion in his eyes and the dismissive nod of his head. I then asked him what I should take for the excruciating pain and he snapped like the arrogant lizard he was and said “Motrin, that’s it.”  He shut my file loudly and ushered me quickly out the door. Fibromyalgia is still, for some people, a mystery and a question mark. I hadn’t seen that flicker of hostility and disbelief in a long time; I will never see it from THIS  ignorant doctor again.