Mad-Eye Moody Monday

Now for a teeny bit of whining. My poor dog has a torn muscle in her knee and has to go in for surgery to get it repaired! Poor Kate, I was a total wreck and cried at the vets office when he told me, not cool, not cool at all. So I've been busy spoiling her all weekend to make up for the fact that I'm a terrible pet owner. She's going to be a holy terror by the time she's completely healed.

I'm taking her to my parents country vet for a second opinion (and hopefully a cheaper price on surgery, that makes me a terrible person doesn't it?) this coming weekend. So I'm going to be a nervous wreck until this whole thing is over. I've chewed off all my finger nails, started twisting my hair, and can't sit still, it's mostly stuff that people wouldn't notice right off so I'm getting through most everything without letting on how worried and upset I am.

After all, Katie is just a dog, she's young, strong, and incredibly active so things will be fine she'll heal up just great and things will be better than before. *turns off auto-play on voice recorder*

Knowing logically that things should be fine doesn't make things fine in my head. Surgery is scary, anesthesia is scary, and waiting patiently is fucking hard. I'm good at these kinds of things from the outside, mostly because I completely and totally hide my feelings when I want/need to.

Just give me a half hour to myself to ball my eyes out and you'd never know how upset I am afterward. Only the small things give away what a wreck I am and I don't know of anyone who knows me well enough to recognize them.

Anyway, it seems like I'm making an awfully big deal for a very small, relatively safe procedure. All they're doing is going in and repairing/replacing a muscle in Katie's left knee, easy peasy.

Just something weird about me, I guess. I don't handle the people (or animals) in my life in pain very well, especially when there's absolutely nothing I can to actively help them recover.