Trying to find the publish button.

This will either be my tenth draft post since February, or I will finally finish a babbled pile of thoughts and publish. Or just save and surrender.
Who knows?
I don't.

I keep starting posts about having nothing meaningful to say and inadequate tools to say it, that end up rambing on so long I don't even want to reread them. Hence the drafts and the silence.

So, spring was awesome, full of adventure and travel and fun. Summer was nice too, a warm busy cocoon of family and food fun and travel and hanging out, then poof, now it's fall. It's been mostly good and I've been mostly ok.

Mostly.

I started feeling sick in August. Stomach problems. Thought I had food poisoning or a bad IBS flare-up. I was tired, achy, fevery and convinced I was cancer-riddled until my Dr. tested me for parasites and c-diff. I got the lesser of the evils, Giardiasis, which I could have gotten from anywhere, really, but bad water, dirty produce or animals are the likely sources, or a door handle, a shopping cart, anywhere anyone infected touched. It took three weeks to diagnose, and the treatment is two weeks of some nasty meds that make you throw up if you drink any alcohol, plus they make your mouth taste like dirty metal and kill your appetite. Ick and Yuck.

It's not been fun, especially since I was tipping toward problem drinking this summer and the cold turkey sobriety has been very sobering. Feeling all my feelings is tedious. On the bright side, I was as heavy as I'd been since I was pregnant 20 years ago, so the weight loss is good.

Another bright side is I'm sleeping better for a change, and my hot flashes aren't as awful, maybe no wine is helping there.  A really bright spot is my compulsive hand washing and germ phobia kept me from sharing this infestation with anyone else. I did jokingly offer to infect a few friends and family who struggle with drinking and or weight, an icky in-home rehab program, but no takers.

So while I was being tired and sober and feeling all my feelings and learning how to just be without a wine glass in my hand, my sweet dog started panting a lot, and then limping. I took him to the vet, and they suspected diet, or hip problems or maybe Lyme disease. Blood work turned up heartworms.

We have been to the vet three days in a row for blood draws and xrays. I'm still in shock, and trying to steel myself for the long expensive painful journey to stop his parasite from killing him. He was on preventatives, but apparently there are some resistant strains, especially in the southeast where we camped all spring, or he threw up or didn't chew his meds or this year's mosquito armageddon got him, or who knows what the heck what. Since I bought the heartworm preventative at the vet, the manufacturer will allegedly pay the $500 fee for the arsenic injections that come after 30 days of antibiotics to clear up the comorbid bacterial infections. It's gonna be a long haul and I'll be beside myself until we are out of the woods sometime in 2017. I think I'm cried out for now, and trying to tamp down the worry. I'm striving for acceptance. And grateful things aren't worse. They could always be worse.

And then there is this dumpster fire of an election year. I can blame the meds for the bile taste in my mouth, but we know that's not the only cause. I've become obsessed with political polls and studies of the increasing polarization of our culture and the sociological implications of all this anger and division and mayhem, and the disintegration of journalism, and the paradigm effect of facebook and fox news, the loss of civility and so on. I have a secret pinterest wall where I hide all the data and charts and articles I hoard, and several draft posts looking for sense or solace in the crazy, but no.

Apoplexy seems a reasonable response.

See why I haven't written?

I could have written about all the pretty sunsets I saw this summer, or the amazing lightning storms, or my pretty flowers, or the wonderful farm stands where I found wax beans and corn that I will remember always, or my half-assed garden that gave me just enough zucchini and too many tomatoes, and a kitchen infested with gnats, but also many happy hours processing those tomatoes, and the smug satisfaction of doing something earthy and natural like growing some of my own food, even if it's only too many tomatoes. I even made lasagna, and if you've ever made it, especially starting with a basket of garden tomatoes, you know it is a labor of love. It was really good, as far as I could tell, since I can't taste for shit, but the boys told me it was amazing. I've been cooking a lot, but since nothing tastes good, I'm eating out of habit more than desire. Cooking makes me feel useful, and maybe normal. I can't wait to enjoy actually eating food again. With the occasional glass, not bottle of wine.

Anyhow..  Coulda, shoulda, woulda written something on my poor blog, but somehow, no. Maybe today is the day.

Here's some pictures, from the few on my computer, most my digital life happens on my phone now. I'm not going to even complain about my technology frustrations and fatigue, that was a whole other draft post that bored me. I sure hope I haven't bored you yet.

 This is one of so many lovely sunsets I ran out to snap a picture of before the mosquitoes ate me.

These are my favorite daylilies, Chicago Sunrise, but I think they match the sunset too.

This photo taken before we knew we were infected. 

Our little hike about did us both in, but here we are. 

Ain't he the cutest? 

I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get him healthy again, and me too.

Hugs to you all out there, thanks for all the posts that have entertained and sustained me. I'm being stingy, taking and not giving lately. Apologies. I can only try to do better.

xo

ps I have become obsessed with Tig Notaro. Catch her standup or series One Mississippi or her documentary Tig. Look her up on youtube. She's one of my new favorite people, my relativity touchstone, and my hero. I hope to be half as brave in my life.